Hortator – Moon & Star of Westeros - Chapter 11 : Oath's Undelivered
A day and a half later on the road to Harrenhal.
The Nerevarine had been silent the whole return trip, brooding as he now rode upon a horse, so eagerly donated by Robb Stark. His helmet clunked at his side as he let his hair stand high in the Riverland wind, occasionally running a nervous hand through it as he wondered what was to come. The once proud Jamie Lannister gripped around the chest of the Nerevarine, also as silent as a crypt. They both knew not what would await them when they returned to Tywin Lannister, especially once they see the escort carrying Trout's and Wolves high into the sky. A treasonous sight, it was. The Nerevarine was flanked by five Northmen riders on his left, and five Rivermen riders upon his right. Unable to convince them to leave him be the Nerevarine had given up on attempting to dismiss them.
Every turn, every creek, the Rivermen perfectly led them to what would be Harrenhal. What amazed the Nerevarine was the size, he was so far away yet he could see the tallest towers of the ruins still jutting out into the land. Like a tombstone for house Hoare. If the castle was this impressive in its ruined state, he couldn't imagine what it would look like intact, perhaps it would match or even surpass the glory of Vivec City, but that was a strong perhaps.
This leg of the journey had proven to be much faster. Who would have known a ride to Harrenhal would go so much faster with proper guidance, a horse and nothing in your way. The Nerevarine wanted to laugh at the thought, but his face remained cold. No laughter came. No joy. Only a cool puddle of emotions pooled deep within the man. He assumes he would either be welcomed as a hero, or as a traitor. Knowing Tywin, it would very likely be the latter, and he'd have to kill the man the second he returned his son and heir to him.
As the Nerevarine rode closer to Harrenhal it was the familiar sight of Lannister lions in the wind approaching to meet the challenge of the trout and wolf. He judged twenty of them, with a lead rider with no helmet. Though they approached with an aggressive intent the Nerevarine didn't bother to slow or speed the horse, only continuing down this path like it was set in stone. The Lannister riders broke away from their charge once it became obvious the lead rider was the Nerevarine, with Jamie Lannister hanging behind him. Now the Lannister riders were in the fore and the rear of the formation. Creating the strange sight of lions, trout, and wolves in the air. So many animals, had the Nerevarine not known better he would have thought he had ridden straight into the menagerie of some Altmer lord.
The escort brought him into Harrenhal itself, quite literally. The structure was so large the Lannister camp was placed within the former interior of the structure. An entire forest had sprung up within what was once the keep itself. Now seeing it so close it made the mind boggle. This had to have been one of the largest structures the Nerevarine had ever seen, possibly beating the massive underground structures of the Dwemer. The stone itself appeared to have been melted long ago and had resolidified after some time. Like a volcano had gushed lava upon the castle itself. Hoare's tomb was sure to stand for generations to come.
Once they reached their destination both Jamie and the Nerevarine dismounted as the Northmen and Riverman escort turned to leave. Not a soul dared to make a move upon them, all of them indirectly fearing what the Nerevarine would do to them should they act. Every Lannister bannerman had heard bits and pieces. The rumors that came from the ravens were dreadful to them, the Nerevarine had supposedly thrown his crown into the war, he had the intention of conquering all of Westeros. If the rumors were true, he planned to move beyond Westeros, and march upon the Stepstones and Essos itself. The moon was to rise above everywhere. Another Aegon come to carve his name into the face of Planetos itself. This is of course assuming the rumors were true.
The doors were opened for Jamie and the Nerevarine. Door after door. Each one is a barrier between them and Tywin. Door after door. Each one opening slower and slower. Finally, they arrived at the last door, the old symbol of house Hoare carved into the burnt oak. Still jutting out in defiance after all these centuries. The doors parted with a loud bang as it took six men to pull them open, within the hall was a man. Standing before a burning hearth, a letter in hand. The light of the hearth was so bright it seemed to give nothing but his outline, but both knew it had to be Tywin. There was something to the shadow, its position, the held itself. It was painfully dignified, it had to be Tywin.
"I see Aegon the Conqueror has returned. Have you read the letters?" Tywin asked from across the room as he began to walk over to the Nerevarine and Jamie. The metallic clacking of his boots slammed against the ground with each step, echoing through the empty hall like a drum as the Lord Lion approached the two, but before he arrived, he began to read the letter.
"Let it be known, throughout the Seven Kingdoms and the Riverlands, that the Riverlands and the North have sworn fealty to Hortator Nerevar and have anointed him King of Westeros. House Baratheon, House Lannister, House Tyrell, House Martell, House Arryn and House Greyjoy should know to kneel before their Liege Lord, by right of conquest. Kneel before King Nerevar or face the sword." By the time Tywin finished he was standing before the two of them.
"Mm.. A certain skill in that. The king's house first, followed by House Lannister. This letter wasn't even written with the other Great House's of Westeros in mind. Only house Lannister. I'll admit. I didn't give Robb Stark much thought for politics, but it was a clever play." Tywin now before the Nerevarine seemed to have a cool expression.
He wasn't angry at the Nerevarine, but what he was angry at what he represented. "Do you see the issue here, Lord Nerevar?" Asked Tywin.
"My accomplishments are now my own, and not yours." The Nerevarine not bothering to play this game answered the rhetorical.
"Mm. Not to worry, I have a solution. And I see you've brought my son. Ja-.." Tywin cut himself off as he noticed it. The lack of a hand. A lion missing its paw might as well be a house cat. Tywin reached down and carefully lifted the clothed stump, he gazed upon it as Jamie stared away in shame.
"What. Happened?" Tywin asked as his voice became cold as ice.
"It was.. removed in the escape from Riverrun." The Nerevarine responded. Careful not to say it was technically his actions that led to the injury.
"Can you replace the lost limb?" Tywin asked, the same question Jamie bombarded the Nerevarine with for a week, it frustrated the Dunmer to hear it again.
"As I told your son. It's exceedingly difficult to replace a limb with magic alone, even from where I am from. Healing is one thing. Conjuring a new limb from nothing is another. More specifically, anyone who can do such a thing can typically only do it for themselves. Perhaps I can.. create a prosthetic, a decent one. One that is functional, in some ways it would be better than the original, but I'm only so skilled. I'm sorry Tywin, but your son's hand is gone." Replied the Nerevarine.
This isn't what Tywin wanted to hear. This isn't what Tywin wanted. He wanted his heir to return, without permanent harm, ready to return to his position as heir for House Lannister.
"It's. Lord Tywin." Snapped the Lion Lord as he let go of Jamie's hand. He took a step back. He then gestured to his son. "Maesters. Now."
"Yes father." Jamie said, the trip itself had beaten every last bit of resistance out of him as he went looking for his father's Maesters in this forsaken castle.
This left the Nerevarine and Tywin alone in the massive hall of Hoare. The Nerevarine briefly considered pulling his blade from its sheath to strike down Tywin, but so far nothing showed a particular note of aggression. Finally, it was Tywin that broke the silence.
"Did you crown yourself king?" Asked the Lord Lion.
"No. Robb did." Retorted the Nerevarine.
"The Stark boy made that decision? To announce your claim to Westeros?" Tywin doubted what the Nerevarine said. What he had previously said was clearly just a show for Jamie. Now it was time for the Nerevarine to make the push as he placed his right hand down upon a great table of Hoare. Now putting his weight against the table, the Nerevarine began to frown.
"I was too busy trying to save your son from his own arrogance, Tywin." The Nerevarine said coolly.
"To which you failed." Curtly responded Tywin as he cocked his head.
"You told me to get your boy." The Nerevarine took a few steps closer to Tywin. Now within striking range the icy voice of the Nerevarine continued. "I, alone. Went to Riverrun, alone. And saved your son's life, alone. You wanted your boy back, and here he is. I fulfilled your request; I honored my agreement. You're just lucky the Northmen didn't kill him."
Tywin only responded with a grunt before he walked down the length of the hall and stood before the only burning hearth. Now before the fire the Lion Lord turned once again. The dancing flames behind him seemed to match the fury within him.
"You brought the North and the Riverlands to heel, but the damage has already been done. I've received twenty-seven letters from other lords, all of them worried about a foreign warlord in Westeros, and I've been told by my ravenkeeper a new message arrives every half hour. This is a situation that must be rectified immediately." Tywin's voice seemed to echo through the hall. Then with an especially cool voice Tywin added. "You will go to King's Landing and swear fealty to Joffrey Baratheon. After this, you will join the Kingsguard. You will leave immediately to do this. There will be no argument about this."
Ah, Joffrey Baratheon. A petulant child, from what he's heard from the Stark's and Tully's bannermen. Born of incest. Tywin was demanding the Nerevarine, a man with thousands of accomplishments, go to the capital of Westeros and kneel before this. To add insult to injury, Tywin was demanded the Nerevarine to join the Kingsguard. He wasn't certain what this was, but it sounded like the Nerevarine would become a bodyguard for Joffrey. For the briefest moment the Nerevarine considered burning Tywin alive for this. After everything he had done for him, now he demands he lower himself to someone so low.
"And if I refuse?" Queried the Nerevarine. This question seemed to echo throughout the castle, as if the ruined keep itself was curious to hear what could become of a defining historical event within its hall once again.
Tywin, in response to this stepped away from the hearth and sat down at his chair, it's loud wooden scratch thundered through Harrenhal like a lightning bolt. "Go." Tywin said, voice full of a cold sort of fury.
The Nerevarine turned on his heel, making sure to tip over a chair on the way out. Resulting in a resounding slam that echoed through the halls of Harrenhal, which seemed to almost laugh with its echoes. Now walking out the Nerevarine nearly ran over a smaller girl, sending them falling to the ground. He looked down to see this human child, nearly panicked as they picked themselves off the ground. The Nerevarine kept staring into the eyes of this terrified girl, he could just feel his anger building up within him as he slowly knelt down onto one knee, leaving his head at the level of the child.
"I'll tell you this. Since you're a child, no one will believe you." The Nerevarine said before continuing. "Tywin Lannister is the man who bites the hand that feeds him, and the best part is, he thinks you're biting his hand. He's a wise man, but his successes blind him. One day he will bite a hand that won't be satisfied with taking a nibble in return, no, one day this hand will bite his whole Oblivion damned face right off." The child seemed to become terrified as the Dunmer seemed to gaze right into their soul.
Arya Stark had finally regained her composure. She opened her mouth to speak, but the Nerevarine was already rising back up to his feet. He towered over her as he shook his head in frustration, the sight of it silenced her as she could only stare at him. The frustrations of this war, this realm, it was starting to get to the Nerevarine.
"I won the man's war for him. House Stark and House Tully surrendered to me. I watched Robb Stark, the King in the North as they called him, drop down onto one knee and surrender." The Nerevarine said. Hearing the name of her brother made her eyes light up like sparkles in the night. She had heard so little, only bits and pieces. To get confirmation her brother was alive filled her soul with comfort, it even brought a smile to her face, a smile the Nerevarine noticed. "Mm. I see that smile, must be a Northman girl."
Arya finally spoke for the first time. "Ser! I am just.. yes, I am a Northman." This confession in some ways scared her, she had done everything to hide her identity, yet here she is giving it to the first man who openly would complain about Tywin Lannister.
"What's your name?" Asked the Nerevarine.
"My name is..Arya." Replied Arya Stark, she had already said too much, so she might as well go the full length.
"Arya. A fine Northman name. Well Arya, I recommend you go north. Away from that bitter lion. Stay away far from him, girl. He will be the death of you. Be it by his hand, or the hand of someone coming to kill him." The Nerevarine didn't give her a chance to respond as he left her, unaware that actually was Robb Stark's sister. Leaving Arya to herself to wonder who that was, only for her to quickly get back to work to keep her disguise going.
Three weeks into the journey to King's Landing.
The Nerevarine had purposely dragged his feet on the journey. He wanted to fulfill Tywin's request as slowly as he possibly could. From what he could tell from the people who traveled the road the Lannister army is still practically stuck in Harrenhal as the North and Riverlands technically had not resubmitted to Joffrey Baratheon's rule, leaving a situation that could only be described as an unofficial war. Officially, Robb Stark has publicly stated more than once there is peace in the Riverlands, unofficially, the peasants and riders speak of the continuation of raids against Lannister forces. This has left the war in northern Westeros in a state of limbo. Tywin can't press his advantage, neither can he lose. It was as if Robb Stark was attempting to keep him trapped in a protracted conflict forever if need be.
The Nerevarine soon learned one could only go so slow as he had started to see King's Landing only yesterday in the distance. Now with it so close the Nerevarine decided to pick up the pace, figuring he might as well get this over with. King's Landing as a city was tremendous. He could only assume it was probably the largest city on Westeros. The Red Keep seemed to just rise high into the sky, a manifestation of old Targaryen rule. The Nerevarine encouraged his horse to ride faster as he started to trot down the road that went right into the city.
It seemed many of the people were going about their daily business, but there was a distinctly large number of Lannister troops positioned around the city. It seems it was the lions who control this city, not the stags. No one stopped him on his ride to the red keep, possibly out of fear of stopping on a perceived knight, but once he arrived at the inner wall, he was stopped by a guard who opened a piece of paper. The Nerevarine could see an illustration of his face on it, and the man gave the signal to open the gates to let the Nerevarine into the grounds of the Red Keep. Once inside the grounds the Nerevarine dismounted from the horse and began to march up the many steps of the castle to get what needed to be done over with.
The Throne Room of the Red Keep - 299 AC
The Nerevarine was let into the castle itself, quickly making is way to the throne room. Which had a large crowd of various courtly sycophants watching Joffrey make some kind of meaningless decision. The Nerevarine could only watch as some sort of wealthy man was awaiting some sort of decision, who stared at the man like a torturer gaze upon his work. It was only then that Joffrey with a dismissive wave declared. "I see, yes. Ser Payne? Do you think your king has failed to keep the ports open?"
Ilyn Payne, the executioner. He had quite the reputation for lopping off more heads than most men could count, important ones too, such as Eddard Stark's. The very heavily armored man shook his head. He was unable to speak after the mad king had removed his tongue so long ago, so shaking his head was the best he could do to answer his king.
The wealthy man was started to sputter from his mouth as he attempted to formulate something that would get him out of this situation, but it didn't come as Joffrey with but the snap of his fingers had two goldcloaks grab the man by his shoulders. Joffrey, not even bothering to stand up from his throne declared. "Well, why don't we show him the port is in fact open! Drown him in it."
"No! Please! Your grace! I didn't mean to say that!" The man's pleas were for not as the Nerevarine watched as he was dragged out of the room kicking and screaming. The sight of which left nothing but a nasty taste in the mouth of him. This little tyrant was the person he was about to kneel to? The Nerevarine, without having said anything, had already reached the end of which he was willing to tolerate. He couldn't care less for the social norms as he began to push the people in line out of the way. Everyone in the throne room watched as what they perceived to be a strangely armored knight literally pushing people out of the way, like a ship parting the ocean. The Kingsguard all reached for their blades, yet none pulled them. It wasn't a threat against their king yet, but this could rapidly become so.
Finally, one dared to not budge. It was some sort of man, probably another sycophant of Joffrey if the Nerevarine had to make an assumption. "How dare you, ser! You think you're more important than the rest of us? I'm of House Fossoway, and I've waited months for this meeting with his grace!" Demanded to finely dressed man, some sort of large red apple stuck out on the cloth of his gambeson. The Nerevarine suddenly reached out and gripped the man by the apple on his cloth.
"You listen to me and listen to me very carefully. If you don't get out of my way, I am going to crush your head like a rotten pumpkin. There will be nothing that will remain of you. The only way they'll be able to identify you is with that stupid little apple you have on your chest. So, why don't you just.. shut up. Take a step back, before you end up getting yourself killed." The Nerevarine at his wits end aggressively declared to the Fossoway.
The irony was the Nerevarine wasn't only referencing himself when he mentioned the man could get killed. He truly meant the little tyrant on that metal chair could have him executed like it was nothing. To say the Fossoway was startled would be an understatement, shaking like the tree his apple had fallen from, he took a few steps back to let the Nerevarine continue his advance towards the throne.
The multiple sounds of metal scraping echoed through the room as all of the members of the Kingsguard had pulled their weapons from their sheathes. Just as the Nerevarine assumed this would be the moment he would turn history it was a rapid pitter patter of short strides that echoed behind him.
"Lord Nerevar! Excellent to see you!" It was the little man himself, Tyrion Lannister. Now everyone had their eyes on the little lion as he came over and gave a single pat onto the right leg of the Nerevarine.
"Dear nephew. This is Lord Nerevar, he served your grandfather in the war against the North and the Riverlands." Stated the Tyrion, but it seemed to do little to ease Joffrey who now gazed upon the Nerevarine with an ugly expression.
"Served my grandfather?" Asked Joffrey, his voice filled with nothing but contempt and sarcasm. "Is that what you call taking two of my kingdoms from me? He's nothing more than a dirty, little, thief." The Nerevarine could feel himself bristle at this; in response he took off his helmet. Allowing his hair to shoot out from under. To Tyrion it reminded him of the threatening displays he had seen from animals, making themselves appear larger than they traditionally were.
"Look at him. Disgusting red eyes. Black skin! He seems more monster than man! Hard to imagine grandfather using such a beast." Joffrey with derision declared to the Nerevarine, who seemed to be idly drumming his fingers against his person. Joffrey was far from done, a person in such power as he is becomes complacent with their position, believing themselves invincible as he stood from the throne. "I know what we should do with beasts such as him. We should put him in chains, have him on display for all to see." Laugher echoed through the Red Keep as Joffrey's sycophants laughed at the Nerevarine, who was starting to consider beating Joffrey to death in full view of everyone.
"Nephew.." Tyrion seemed to hesitate for a moment before regaining his composure. "Lord Nerevar is here to swear fealty to you, and in turn bring these two kingdoms back under your rule once again. And.. as your Hand, I'd remind you it is unwise to insult the allies of your grandfather. Men such as him are winning your wars for you."
"If this is what rules Westeros then I see why Robb Stark proclaimed me his king. It's like choosing between wine and a pitcher full of piss." Declared the Nerevarine. A dramatic gasp shot throughout the entire room. Joffrey seemed visibility accosted as he took in the insult. A nasty expression grew across his features, but the Nerevarine didn't give him time to speak as he continued. "For the better part of maybe two months, I've been fighting in the name of your grandfather, Tywin Lannister. Who, in turn, is fighting in your name. And so.. here I come, willingly, to hand over everything, and the first thing you do is insult me. Deride me."
The more experienced members of the Kingsguard started to reposition themselves in the room. It was then the Nerevarine noticed Jamie emerging from behind the throne, it seems he had beaten him to King's Landing after all the time the Nerevarine had taken on the trip. The Kingsgaurd's bad run in with Barristan Selmy a month ago had already reminded them of what happens when you anger skilled swordsmen. The Nerevarine ripped Keening from its sheath, but instead of charging forth he held it up to show it to Joffrey.
"Hundreds I'd say. Hundreds of people I killed for your father. See this blade? Do you even know how many times I've had to clean it? Of course, you wouldn't, you don't clean your own blades. I would be surprised if a nasty little..bastard..such as yourself wipes his own ass." Joffrey wildly gestured towards the Kingsguard.
"Nerevar! Let's not let this-" Jamie couldn't finish as his bastard son began.
"Kill him! Kill him now!" Screeched Joffrey. Tyrion's eyes widened as he looked right up the Nerevarine, his eyes practically begging the man as to why he would escalate the situation like this. Before any of the Kingsguard could make their move the Nerevarine returned a warm smile to Tyrion.
"What can I say Tyrion? I just couldn't do it. Tell your father I tried." Replied the Nerevarine as Ser Mandon Moore was the first to make the first move. He charged forth, sword in hand. He brought it down towards the Nerevarine who responded by pulling forth Keening from its sheath to block the blow. The steel of Ser Moore slid down the magical stone of Keening, only stopping once it was hung on the guard of the shorter blade. The Nerevarine responded by slamming his fist right into the helmet of Ser Moore, who had lowered it in time for the helmet to take most of the blow. Not to let this remain a 1 on 1 fight, Ser Boros Blount and Ser Meryn Trant joined in while the others remained to protect their king. This forced the Nerevarine to break from the guard and was now walking backwards, with three of the Kingsguard on him.
"You want to die?!" Yelled the Nerevarine, as he lunged forwards towards Ser Blount, only to find nothing but the blade of Ser Trant who had intercepted it to protect his peer. It was then the Nerevarine pulled Keening back as hard as he could, slashing across in the air in a wide arc, cutting Ser Moore on the cheek and nose on its return. Ser Moore was bleeding, but he responded with his own slash towards the Nerevarine. As the Nerevarine intercepted the blade, he could feel the blade of Trant attempt to stab through his armpit, but the glass armor held. Then he felt it, Blount had used the gap now in the Nerevarine's armor to deliver a slash into the flesh of the Dunmer.
Crimson red began to leak from the shoulder area of the Nerevarine as he responded with his own slash onto Ser Trant's neck. All the Nerevarine found was the shoulder guard of Trant, but the impact was so great it had clearly broken Trant's shoulder with a wet resounding crack that echoed throughout the Red Keep. Trant was stumbling back in pain, but the Nerevarine couldn't press the advantage as both Blount and Moore attacked at once. The Dunmer jumped back from their simultaneous attacks, responding with his own jab which met its target in the form of the exposed right cheek of Ser Blount. Piercing all the way through it and removing part of his gum, a molar included.
"You know... Tywin sent me to join you!" The Nerevarine briefly chuckled to himself as he took his slow steps backwards. "I thought we were supposed to be friends! You're making this awkward, boys." Trant now had rejoined the fight just as soon as Ser Blount had spat a bloody tooth out onto the ground. Trant slung the blade across in a wide arc as Blount struck for the arm of the Nerevarine again, while Moore made a move for the hip of the Nerevarine. He managed to dodge Trant and Moore, but the blade of Blount found a gap of its own on the hip armor of the Nerevarine. Cutting him and judging by the amount of blood the Nerevarine assumed it was a decent strike.
The Nerevarine's response to being cut again was as swift as it was brutal. He reached out and physically gripped the blade of Ser Moore. With it now firmly in his left hand he pressed the blade of Keening as hard as he could against the neck guard of Moore, forcing the blade through and slitting the artery of Moore. Instantly an ocean of blood covered the Nerevarine, Moore, and the stone floor. Moore fell down to the ground with a loud bang, all but dying in the blink of an eye. Trant and Blount looked at each other, there was clearly some sort of unspoken communication as Trant suddenly rushed forwards.
Trant swung his blade towards the Nerevarine, but he also didn't stop his own charge. This resulted in the large body of Trant colliding against the body of the Nerevarine. The Nerevarine stumbled, but then suddenly slipped on the large pool of blood freshly squeezed from the torn artery of Moore. Now on the ground he began to scramble backwards as both Trant and Blount began to stab at him. Just as Blount was about to deliver a stab towards the Nerevarine's chest he slung Keening up to deflect the blow. With his other hand the Nerevarine shot a great bolt of lightning out of his hand and into the sword of Trant, which acted like a lightning rod.
Trant was quite literally blasted away from the electrical force. The sound and display of which shocked and terrified everyone in the room, more so than the ongoing fight. Blount, knowing Moore was dead, and not knowing if Trant was dead, took on a more defensive stance as the Nerevarine pulled himself up from the ground. Blount was now the one taking steps back as the Nerevarine began to follow him back towards the throne.
"I'm going to kill you." The bleeding Nerevarine said to Blount, as if it was just a common fact, but it seemed Joffrey was tired of letting this fight go on, especially when it seemed his Kingsguard was losing. The Nerevarine watched as 40 or so Goldcloaks surround him, pikes aimed at basically everywhere on his body. Some of which were quite literally shaking at the display of magic, but their sheer numbers seemed to ease them. The Nerevarine could see Jamie Lannister was forcing Joffrey from his throne and was evacuating him from the throne room. It was then the Nerevarine saw Bronn quite literally picking up Tyrion Lannister by his shoulders to run him away from what he assumed was going to be a losing fight.
The Nerevarine knew he needed a way out of this. So, with but a glance and a little focus he made his distraction. It was Ser Mandon Moore.
It was a surreal sight to some, or absolutely terrifying to others. Ser Mandon Moore, who had just exsanguinated himself on the floor, was slowly pulling himself back up. It was absolutely impossible. Every last drop of blood had to have been out of the man. Jamie Lannister who stood across the room could only stare in shock at what was assuredly a fatal wound was being disproved as Moore continued to rise. Though on his feet he seemed to stand in a strange position. His head was limp, and the sword in his hand was partially against the ground by its tip.
"RRRAAAAAUUUGH!" Ser Moore let out a primal screech as he began to wildly swing his blade everywhere. The remaining witnesses for the day's court began to flee in panic, creating a stampede of people as they attempted to get out of the throne room of the Red Keep. Screams could be heard by all as Ser Moore descended upon the Goldcloaks like a demon from the Seven-Hells, instantly breaking the formation and giving the Nerevarine the chance to get out of the Red Keep. As the Nerevarine made his move he could see the only person left who stood a chance against the resurrected Moore was Blount who seemed to be trying to kill Moore but was failing to stop him.
The Nerevarine joined the stampede of people as they fled out of the gate of the Red Keep. He couldn't see the undead he had just created but judging by the sounds of metal on meat in the distance he could only assume Ser Moore was making short work of the terrified Goldcloaks. The Nerevarine eventually broke from the fleeing people by descending the inner wall into King's Landing itself. He sprinted through the streets of the city, passing various crowds, unknown to what had just happened in the Red Keep. The Nerevarine kept running until he found an open cellar that he climbed into.
Now inside of the cellar he stopped to catch his breath. He had run right into some sort of shopkeeper who was about to yell at him before he tossed five gold dragons for a bottle of wine and his silence. With a bottle in hand the Nerevarine began to wonder how he was going to leave this city with an entire army that's going to be looking for him. He let out a frustrated growl as he slammed his fist against the wooden wall of the cellar, but it slowly transitioned into a smirk.
Even if it was the hard road, he had to admit, he loved seeing the look on that little bastard's face.
