Foreword: As usual, please don't take this story that seriously. I'm just faffing about.
Chapter 3: Speeding ticket? Nay officer, I demand a trial by combat.
I always considered myself a lawful man. In my past life, the few run-ins I had with law enforcement was getting pulled over twice for expired tags. Twice you might ask?
The first was bad luck, I was driving my mom's car.
Actually thinking about it, the second was even worse luck. I was literally going to the DMV that very day to get it renewed when I got pulled over.
One thing those experiences taught me was that I never dealt well with law enforcement.
I was a good boy you know? Never got in trouble so when the possibility of trouble finding me? It always made me nervous.
This was ten times worse.
Staring at the swords currently unsheathed and wielded against me, I realized that part of me never changed.
It took me a few moments to really register my situation.
Harry Hardyng was dead?
What the fuck? He wasn't supposed to be dead. He was a named book character…
Wait, this was Westeros and Georgie doesn't give a fuck. Wasn't the current fan theories that Harry would die soon anyway?
Fuck.
Why didn't I check his Health?
Oh I know, I was too busy being pleased as fuck by my victory.
My gaze swept over the forces arrayed against me of which there were a dozen. I had noticed something slightly off as I entered the town to do some shopping but they were smart enough to let me be trapped inside the town before moving to arrest me.
I could fight my way out. Wouldn't really be a fight, but more of a brawl with me relying on my superhumanity to escape but where would that put me?
I would be a fugitive and an outlaw on the run. This wasn't some minor lord I accidentally killed, this was Harry Hardyng, the current presumptive heir to the Vale of Arryn. No doubt I would be hunted and while I could easily keep ahead of my enemies, the consequences of my actions could very well fall upon my family.
Sure, there was a chance they would be left alone but it was just that, a chance. It was also a chance I wasn't willing to take. My family and I were of the commons and we had no protection against lords. Other lords might care if we were a lordly house but they wouldn't give a rat's ass about some smallfolk.
No.
Brawn was not the way here which left only brains. Good thing I had some brainy traits. No matter how this went, I could hopefully wiggle out of it. No need to burn bridges by escaping.
"Very well." I put my arms into the air. "I surrender."
They didn't put me in the medieval equivalent of handcuffs or anything but they did take my weapons which consisted of a bow and arrow, a dagger, and my half-broken tourney sword. I didn't have another weapon so I kept it for now and it felt like a social faux pas to only take part of a ransom and keep what you wanted so I had planned to get another one custom forged later.
They escorted me through the town and as we got closer to the lord's castle, I also noticed that the people around us were starting to stare, some even pointing blatantly at me. It seemed like word had gotten out and people loved gossip.
I originally assumed I would be taken directly to Lord Uthor but was quickly disabused of the notion as we started heading deeper into the castle. It didn't take a genius to realize I was instead headed for the dungeons.
Well, that wasn't ideal at all.
God, I hope I wasn't headed for the torturer's rack or something like that. I really did not like pain and I actually wasn't sure what my durability was. I had the abilities of hundreds of men but I didn't know if that meant I was immune to cutting blows, or just resistant. I never had need to really test my durability. If my skin was suddenly three hundred times stronger, would that even do that much? Skin was pretty flimsy ain't it?
As we got deeper, the natural light quickly vanished and was soon replaced with ominously flickering torches in sconces scattering their baleful orange light all over the place.
I would admit, I was spooked a little bit.
Look, I didn't have the brave trait even in my past life okay. I didn't play scary games or watch scary movies. When friends wanted to go to haunted theme attractions, I laughed and told them to have fun but fuck off.
Well, this wasn't an attraction now, it was about to be my new reality.
Eventually, we stopped in front of a cell. Honestly, it was more like a dug-out cave but with iron bars and a door in front of it. The room inside was not especially large but at least I could fully stand and even had room to pace. The only thing inside was a foul-smelling waste bucket in a corner and rushes covering the floor that had long disintegrated.
Home sweet home.
"In you go murderer." One of the guards rudely pushed me inside. I think he actually did it with the butt of his spear but most impacts felt the same to me.
"How long will I be here?" It was a vain hope but any information would be nice at this point.
"As long as Lord Uthor wants." He slammed the cell door shut before walking away.
Well, this was definitely not ideal.
I was used to a certain level of filth and grime after living in this world for so long but looking at the floor…
It was kinda gross so I chose to stand until I couldn't. Which was a long time actually with my stats and all that.
I needed a plan of some sort.
First. Let's check if Harry is actually dead and that this isn't some kinda sketch play by Lord Uthor to withhold my prize winnings or something.
Opening my Find menu, I found him.
Yup.
He was dead alright.
Died of a head injury sustained in the tourney of Stoutstone in 299 AC.
Whelp.
Sorry bud.
Fuck.
I was so fucking stupid. It was called murder-stroke for a reason and my Prowess clearly made it as effective as anything else I could do.
Wait, what happens to the Vale now?
Pulling up the succession to the Lord Paramountcy of the Vale, I saw Robert Arryn first.
That was expected.
What wasn't expected was the heir presumptive though…
I clicked his profile and saw his portrait. A tall man with a rather fierce expression that was made fiercer due to the lack of an eye, only twisted burnt flesh around where it once was.
Timett "One-Eye", son of Timett.
Who the fu–
Wait.
There was one crackpot theory about one of Tyrion's mountain clansmen being the heir to the Vale wasn't there? How his mother was an Arryn who was snatched by the mountain clans.
Was this actually a game world and I'm just here being meme'd on?
No, whatever, it doesn't matter so I dropped it. It was a pointless thought anyway as no one knows and Timett was currently off in the Crownlands right now with Tyrion. Looking past him, there was a bunch of Arryns from the various cadet branches scattered about the Vale.
So, Harry's actually dead since I accidentally killed him in combat. Yet this was a tourney where it was rare, but participants did die. Houses generally don't even go after other houses in most cases since it was an acceptable risk to all participants. At most, they might demand some compensation if insult was given.
Was it because I was of the common class? Some kind of power dynamic thing to let the commons know it isn't acceptable to kill a highborn no matter the circumstance?
Thinking about it further, why was Lord Uthor of Stoutstone even involving himself in this? Was he just doing his duty of holding me until the aggrieved parties could arrive?
My Intrigue started running. There was something more here, whether it was minor or major, and it was prickling my senses.
I saw his traits. Lord Uthor was a craven. Could he be scared that this might blow back towards him?
What did I know about Lord Uthor? I pulled him up from the Find menu. It took me a few minutes of digging but I realized that Uthor's position was not hereditary. He was merely assigned to the lordship of Stoutstone like a steward.
Think.
What was the point of this tourney then? A tourney is basically a waste of money, a contest to show how much money and power a lord has and how they could afford to piss it away.
Was he throwing this tourney to try and impress his superiors with how good a job he was doing since he could clearly afford a tourney and that perhaps he should be made hereditary lord of Stoutstone?
Yet something didn't add up. His stewardship was a dismal five and looking at his tax income, he wasn't even positive gold flow so he clearly wasn't administering his lands well.
Where was the money for this tourney coming from then? My prize winnings were thirty gold dragons and the winner of the joust was another sixty. Not to mention the costs of hosting all participants as the food and wine quickly added up. Lord Uthor clearly could not afford this but the money had to have come from somewhere else.
There was definitely some skullduggery afoot here but I lacked information.
Damn, I felt like Tattletale. I could make impossible leaps of logic, but I still needed a starting point. I couldn't pull information from a vacuum.
Well. Maybe.
add_intrigue 25
If a lord needed money, he only had a few options. A bank, most likely the Iron Bank of Braavos, the merchants, and the final option – other lords.
That compelled me to check on Lord Uthors neighbors. Zooming out slightly on my mental map, I looked at his closest neighbors.
Most of the neighboring regions were relatively poor as well but that made sense. We were not deep in the valley generally referred to as the Vale of Arryn, full of fertile fields, clear wide rivers, and a sea of growing produce. We were closer to the mountains where the terrain was hillier and less bountiful so we tended to be poorer here.
It wasn't until I was examining Star Spine, ruled by Lord Beomar of House Starspine that my mind made a quite frankly impossible leap of logic.
Beomar was wealthy. High stewardship combined with high Intrigue along with a positive gold flow so he was definitely doing alright.
If Uthor needed gold then this was his dude and my attributes were telling me that this was exactly what was happening.
Now what though? It isn't a crime to lend another lord money. Most just weren't really willing to borrow because it showed weakness, only doing so in the most dire straits so nothing about it was inherently incriminating.
What does Lord Beomar get out of this though? Judging by his character sheet, he was a scheming type so what was his angle?
It only took me a second to guess, land of course. Here, the land was everything. More people meant more farms could be farmed, more resources, more taxes, and even larger armies. Power here was derived from the land.
It was rare, but land could be sold and bought between lords.
My mind put the pieces together.
Lord Beomar was making a play for Lord Uthor's lands. He knew the steward of Stoutstone was not doing his job very well and clearly must have been in debt or near ruin so he stepped in. If Uthor's liege-lord realized Stoutstone was being mismanaged, he would promptly be stripped of his position so desperation must have made him take a deal from the devil that was Beomar. Or was it the Stranger here?
Since Stoutstone and its land weren't hereditarily granted to Uthor yet, this little tourney must have been from Lord Beomar, an attempt to convince their liege-lord that it was clearly prospering under the rule of Uthor so he should be assigned its holding and attendant lands for him and his future children. From there, Beomar could exercise a lot more overt control of it, potentially breaking off pieces of it to reclaim his debt and investment from Uthor.
Beomar also had a daughter that was of age but as of yet unwed who was probably meant for Uthor if his gambit was successful.
Yet, where does that leave me?
None of this was really overtly illegal. Additionally, I didn't have any proof except my word which was wind against the supposed word and honor of a highborn.
Hmm.
What's going through Uthor's head right now?
His tourney had gone wrong and the current presumptive heir to the Vale died technically under his watch. The event could bring undue attention to his area. Perhaps he was scared this entire event might cause some kind of investigation into his running of the tourney or holding in general. Idly, I checked his stress.
Oh yeah.
He was definitely scared this might somehow blowback against him and probably wants to get this over with quickly, swept under the rug proverbially.
Which means me.
I am the dirt that needs to be swept under the rug.
What are his options?
Execution was one perhaps. A possibility, but something about it twigged that it was a bit too… Tyrannical? Overreaching perhaps?
Being forced to take the black was another. I didn't care for the plot all that much right now, but to be thrust directly into the plot at the wall wasn't enticing. I had little desire to freeze my balls off at the ass end of nowhere, as cool as the Wall might have looked.
Actually, under what charges was he holding me? The guard specifically called me a murderer. Not a killer but a murderer, which implies I had motive to kill Harry. That I purposefully chose to kill him rather than the accident that it was.
The barest seed of an idea grew in my mind. It was a technicality, but was it one I could abuse? This wasn't a trial of law and justice like in my old world, where slightly different wordings could make or break a case.
Could I argue down the charge and get the "murder" tossed out so to speak? Maybe involuntary manslaughter instead of first-degree murder or something like that. That may eliminate some of the more serious punishments I might have received.
Fuck, this was a flimsy as fuck defense. I was literally basing it on the fact the guard called me a murderer.
But it was the best I had as information was sorely lacking. I would have to adjust my plans on the fly depending on whatever the circumstances were. If Uthor was the one directly accusing me, it might be troublesome as he just wants me out of the way and as a smallfolk, my options were relatively limited. He was the Lord and I a mere commoner – his word was akin to law.
I had a feeling that this accusation of murder was from him alone, trying to deal with me right quick yet Harry's death doesn't only affect him. He was likely hoping that by the time news reached others, he could simply say I had already been dealt with and the event was over.
I pulled up Harry's profile again to check his relationships. He was a ward of House Waynwood so they would need to have a say in this. Harry himself was of House Hardyng so them too.
His knight master was… Yohn "Bronze" Royce.
Okay. Great. Fantastic. Love to see it.
So with Harry's death, I may have inadvertently obtained the hostility of two of the Vale's strongest houses, both direct bannermen of House Arryn.
God damn it Harry, why couldn't you have a harder head?
Wait. This might be a better option than two bad ones.
Would defending myself against these two be more viable than Lord Uthor? The Lord of Stoutstone wants this swept under the rug so he probably wants me out of here as fast as possible. A sham trial or he might not even give me a trial at all and just banish me to the wall.
I pulled up and examined their traits.
Yohn Royce was a tourney knight and looking at his memories log, stats, and skills, he was a damn successful one. He'd been kicking ass since before I was even born. Would he perhaps be a bit more understanding of the situation? Yohn Royce did have the Just trait which might work in my favor though House Waynwood was more a wildcard. House Hardyng was a tiny house so they would most likely allow House Waynwood to take charge of the situation.
There were potentially three factions at work here, united or not, I did not know yet – Uthor, Waynwood, and Royce.
Uthor wants me gone as soon as possible and this swept under the rug.
Waynwood and Royce? How are they likely to react to this?
Waynwood was technically the guardian of Harry but since he was now of age, he was free to come and go. They had technically satisfied their duties of keeping the boy safe and educated until he came of age and even though he died, it shouldn't affect House Waynwood's honor and reputation.
Yohn's situation was a bit more complicated. Harry was still his squire and a squire reflects his master. A squire winning prestige reflects well on their knight master but this was the opposite. This kind of humiliating defeat and death only reflected disgrace onto Yohn Royce. No matter how good I was, the story wouldn't really remember that.
The storytellers and bards would tell the story about Harry Hardyng, the heir presumptive of the Vale and squire to the renowned Yohn Royce being felled by a commoner with a half-broken sword in a tourney in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, a most disappointing and rather ignoble ending to a man who was believed destined for more. They wouldn't remember my skill at arms or the difficulties of the fights we both underwent, only the magnitude of his failure.
The one thing people love more than a hero was to see one fall. Green Goblin wasn't wrong about that.
In the end, it all came down to a lack of information.
Gods, was getting out of this viable or was I just taking deep huffs of that copium?
There was always the final option which I wasn't even sure was an option open to me at all.
I frequently complained about medieval times but this time it might end up working for me.
A trial by combat.
It came down to technicalities. A trial by combat was for when the truth could not be determined so it was left to the gods to declare right and wrong. If they were intent on pushing for a murder charge, I might be able to declare for one. After all, there was zero proof I intentionally did it.
I think even a modern-day judge and jury might have struggled to prove such a thing, but the justice system was a lot laxer here, basically boiling down to whatever the lord says is the truth. If I was highborn, I could appeal to a higher lord to arbitrate but I wasn't so it was a moot point.
In this case, I might be forced to push for a trial by combat. I wasn't sure if it would drop the matter entirely though since a man was still clearly dead. Would it be waved away since his death was clearly accidental in a tourney setting or would something still need to be done to make an example of me?
No. If it wasn't murder, then it must be accidental and accidental deaths were an accepted risk of any tourney. Houses don't declare blood feuds against another house if one of their own was accidentally struck down during tourney combat. They could ask for the ransom to be waived or even demand a bit of compensation in return but you didn't hear about large conflicts being caused by tourneys.
I just hope I could weather whatever relatively "minor" punishment I would receive, if any.
If it came down to it, my best bet was to try and force a trial by combat.
Might makes right is a stupid concept but this time, I might be able to turn this medieval fuckery to my advantage instead.
If that somehow didn't work, there were still the truly nuclear options in my mind. The options I had never really tested because I had no idea how it would affect people.
What would happen if I used the yesmen command? Would their mind twist to justify accepting whatever my proposal was or would they be aware that their thoughts were not their own but could do nothing but struggle against it? If the latter was the case, would they immediately regain control if I disabled the command? This wasn't a game and these people were not ones and zeroes.
Or the add_relation friend command. How would that work?
If the situation really turned against me, I could always resort to the kill command. Maybe yell out something suitably dramatic like "Let the gods strike down those who speak falsely!" or something to give it the whole divine intervention meaning.
I would need to wait and see what moves were going to be made but the nagging feeling that I was missing something stupidly obvious kept bothering me.
It's been three days since I've been tossed into a medieval dungeon.
It was a boring as fuck three days where I spent a great deal of it just browsing my console commands but there was a lot in there and I was no programmer. I think a lot of these commands were used to deal with graphical stuff but I wasn't sure how it affected the real world.
If I turned off the textures for some object, would reality shift to match it?
When I wasn't mucking around the menus, I just spent time listening to the game soundtrack.
It was also a hungry couple of days as the guards didn't bother feeding me at all.
Do you have any idea what starvation does to a person?
The beginning hunger pangs as the human body begins to deplete its energy reserves. The feeling of emptiness in your stomach starts slow but soon becomes all-encompassing. Your thoughts turn to nothing but food. Then the lethargy starts. Common easy tasks become herculean efforts as your body becomes too weak to even keep itself moving, let alone live. Eventually, dizziness and lightheadedness set in and everything starts to become hazy as your body starts to cannibalize itself in a desperate effort to keep itself alive. Eventually, one by one, your organs start to shut down as your body exhausts all possible means of keeping itself alive.
At least I think that's what happens to a person. I ain't no doctor and I sure as shit wasn't starving.
I'll admit, I wasn't sure if my body actually needed food or not. I assumed I did since I did get hungry but would my superhumanity work against me here?
Did Captain America need more calories to survive?
Either way, when I realized what game Lord Uthor was playing, I started digging into my console. I'll admit, I should have done it earlier but a lot of these modifier ID tags weren't exactly descriptive.
Like what the hell does phantom_island_critique_fp1_modifier or draugr_healthy_hiking_fp1_modifier mean?
I was always wary of applying them to myself. What if I gave myself super cancer or something? Who knew what consequences some modifiers could have?
Thankfully the ones I was looking for were all under the feast tag. I remembered during the feast a few nights ago, I gained a temporary modifier from it and wondered what would happen if I just applied the tag to myself with the console command. I had to find what the id for it was but thankfully there wasn't exactly a whole bunch of modifiers under the feast section.
Ate Exquisite Food or feast_good_food_modifier did work apparently. Normally the modifier expired within hours but I just set the duration to seven days.
Since I wasn't getting any kind of starvation penalties for my Health or anything, I could assume it was working. I didn't seem to get hungry and that satisfying feeling of eating a good meal with a full belly persisted. Thankfully, it didn't make me feel bloated or anything. That was my physical aspect taken care of but the mental one proved a bit more challenging.
In my past life, I was more than content to stay indoors all day under the AC while sitting in front of my computer but even then, I enjoyed going out for an hour's walk daily to soak in the sunlight and feel the fresh air on my face. The activity also partly served to make me feel slightly less guilty for being a sloth for the rest of the day.
In Westeros though, there wasn't really an indoor life for us smallfolk unless it was winter. Your life revolved around the outdoors and that was one of those things I had grown to love as a former major city suburbia boy. Vast forests of lush greenery were always weird to me who once lived in Phoenix, Arizona. I remembered once visiting rural Wisconsin and driving down their highways to see forests lining the highway and just marveling about how different the sight was from the urban city sprawl I was used to seeing.
It was one of those things I had come to love, to be under the sky day in and day out with the sun upon my face and wind my skin. To take a jaunt through the forest to one of the little streams which I liked to bathe in or to simply laze under the shade of a tree and lose myself in thought or sleep. I had some real Shikamaru energy at times.
It was only after hundreds of console commands that I finally chanced upon the one command which saved my sanity.
Fresh Air and Exercise or known to the console as hunt_fresh_air_and_exercise_modifier managed to keep me balanced, like I had just taken a walk through the woods while enjoying every moment of it.
Even in my past life, I always believed that solitary confinement was excessive, fit only for the worst of offenders. Now that I had been subjected to it only solidified my thoughts on the matter. At least those prisoners were fed and were let out for an hour outside, I wasn't even granted those basic human rights.
Fucking Westeros. War crimes ain't a thing here, it's just called being Tywin Lannister and waging a more brutal war.
The only thing that kept me from kicking down the bars of my prison and slaughtering everyone in my way for a chance to step outside was the consequences that might fall upon my family. I could see why people could go mad in solitary.
Still, the feeling was slightly jarring. I knew perfectly well I hadn't taken a single step outside these cells, yet the pleasant feeling of a productive walk persisted. The slight flush after a bit of exercise, the clearer head and thoughts, and the energy humming through you after being slightly active filled me. I could even still smell the forest all pine, sap, and brush.
Was this healthy?
Honestly, I wasn't sure but it damn well wasn't changing as long as my current circumstances held true since these two modifiers were the only thing keeping me healthy and sane. Whatever prison warden, if any, here had let the torches by my cell gutter out, leaving me in complete darkness for the last day. Honestly, since the guard escorts three days past, I've not seen another soul.
I would have taken a cellmate at this point.
Hey, whatcha in for?
Oh me? Just killing the heir presumptive of the Vale. You?
Fucking hell, this was like the Black Cells of King's Landing. Wasn't Ned in one of them for weeks or something? I was days in and already nearly gone mad. No wait, Ned at least had the excuse of being delirious from his wounds so time went fucky-wucky for him. I didn't get that excuse.
Where the fuck was Lord Uthor and what was he up to? As the days passed, my original ideas for his plans became shakier by the day. If he wanted me out of here, why was I still locked up? Wouldn't it have made more sense for him to move as fast as possible?
Did I pull a Tattletale and lead myself to the wrong conclusion? Garbage in so garbage out and all that. Was he playing some longer game? Trying to really scare me or something? Perhaps he was just going to literally leave me here to rot. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. I thought he might have delayed his plans to finish the tourney before dealing with me but it should have ended days ago.
If he wanted me gone, nothing was really stopping Lord Uthor from commanding me to be execu–
I froze.
Wait a fucking minute.
I'd been calling him Lord Uthor all this time but that isn't the case at all, wasn't it?
In this sense, the lord part was more for courtesy rather than any real reference to any title. After all, he was merely a steward right now, no true lord.
And only lords had the right of pit and gallows.
But that law wasn't absolute in any sense. To execute me might be counted as treason against the Iron Throne, but the chances of this event ever reaching anywhere near that high were close to zero. The only chance this could possibly escalate was if I was someone of import which wasn't the case at all. I was a commoner so it was doubtful they would care if I was executed so Uthor had no reason to play straight with me. Nobody would accuse him of treason for the execution of a single smallfolk.
Unless someone was making him.
Alren.
There was no one else who could. It was doubtful father had heard of what happened and there was little he could do besides petition the lord of Kipress to intervene which wouldn't have amounted to anything. Lords generally don't muck around in another lord's affairs unless they want something from them like Lord Beomar.
I didn't know another person in this entire town.
Alren was a knight, a hedge knight sure, but Uthor's position wasn't that high either, merely a steward.
Was Alren going to bat for me which is forcing Uthor to play it straight?
The idea was certainly plausible. So what happened?
Uthor wanted to get rid of me quickly. Perhaps execution or banishment so he moved to arrest me under the charge of murder which was technically not his right. He might have thought it wouldn't have mattered after all since I was a smallfolk and some of the other knights might have even been glad for it since I was the uppity peasant who went and won a tourney.
Yet, Uthor hadn't accounted for Alren to stand for me. Hell, if he was, I sure as heck didn't expect it. I pulled up Alren's character sheet to take a better look at it. He was a pretty virtuous man all in all. The only "sin" he had was Lustful which probably explained the existence of Byron. I didn't know the full story so I shouldn't have judged. Maybe it was some kind of forbidden love thing with the knight and his lady.
Still, Alren looked to be a real bro if my suspicions held true. I would also need to find a way to thank him for this.
So now what? It meant that Alren was forcing this to a trial as much as Uthor misliked that which meant I was stuck in here until the affected parties arrived…
Which might take a while. Fuck.
I pulled up the character sheets of Anya Waynwood and Yohn Royce to see where they were at.
Ironoaks and Runestone were quite some distance away so I expected at least another few weeks to over a month's worth of travel but it was a surprise to see them not that far and together at that.
Wait, what?
Oh. The both of them were actually in the Eyrie at the time, not their ancestral seats so they were relatively closer to Stoutstone. How convenient.
Still, it meant I would be stuck here for at least another week.
It also didn't change the fact that Uthor was clearly trying to starve me to death or something.
Oh whoopsie, my bad. He died in the dungeons, an honest mistake. Looks like the matter is settled and everyone can just go home now.
Annoyingly, this wasn't even something I could use against him. Hard to accuse someone of not feeding you for two weeks when you're looking perfectly healthy. Still, it might be funny when they haul me into the trial room perfectly hearty and hale all the while he expects to see me half-dead and emaciated.
As funny as that was, the situation was still shit.
Fucking Westeros.
As the days passed, I grew surer and surer that I would at least get a trial. According to their character sheets, Yohn Royce and Anya Waynwood had arrived in Stoutstone sometime yesterday so today might be the day I get my trial. Or perhaps tomorrow if they needed a day to rest and gather their findings. Or more like whatever findings Uthor was willing to let them find.
Either way, this would all be ending soon. I would know soon whether I would be cutting my way out of here or walking out a free man. I could admit I was nervous. The only time I had ever been in a courtroom was for jury duty and I remember being bored to near sleep for most of the week it took.
I doubted I would be as bored when I was the one on the proverbial stand. I had no lawyer either so it would be up to me to defend myself. I was never one for thinking fast so I would definitely be relying on my abilities to make up for it.
It would be today. I had no idea where that confidence came from but I knew it would be today and it would be soon.
As if summoned by my thoughts, I heard the first echoes of footfalls. It was a quiet thing but after the silence of the last two weeks, my hearing was extremely sensitive to anything out of the ordinary.
I stood and patted myself down to get rid of the dry rushes which clung to me. One has to look presentable when entering a courtroom, well as presentable as one can be in a basic tunic and trousers. That and not showering for nearly two weeks.
First thing I would do after the trial was to jump into a fucking river.
The barest of light was starting to be seen, casting flickering shadows across the wall. My eyes had long adjusted to the darkness and I suspect my abilities allowed me better night vision than humanly possible. Idly I wondered if it was a Prowess thing or Intrigue that allowed it. Or perhaps both?
"–ead already no doubt."
"Aye. Poor sod, pissing off the lord."
Oh, think I'm dead, do you?
Should I do a jumpscare or something? Maybe lay on the ground and pretend I was a corpse and see what they would do. Nah, they might panic and stab me or something. A joke wasn't worth earning the ire of the guards.
Actually, could this be an alternative escape? If I'm dead, maybe they'll just report I died. They wouldn't call a maester to examine me or anything and once they leave, could I make a getaway and escape into the town? Then again, I do look a bit too healthy for someone who supposedly died of starvation. I looked too good for a recent death and I didn't look bad enough for an extended corpse.
Hm.
Best not then, as funny as it could be.
I stood and crossed my arms while watching my cavern slowly light up as the torch got closer and closer to my cell before eventually turning the corner.
"Boo," Okay, I couldn't help myself.
"What the," the guard cut himself off as he flinched at my word.
I saw him look over me, noticing how I looked perfectly fine and his eyebrows rose. He looked to his partner who was doing the same.
"Is it finally time for my trial?" I drawled out.
The two guards were still sharing a look before one of them replied. "Aye, it's time. All the lords have assembled."
They probably thought a mistake had been made somewhere, that I was being fed even though I wasn't supposed to be. If they weren't going to bring it up, I sure as hell wasn't.
They approached and unlocked the cell before ushering me out. As I finally stepped out into the glorious light of the sun, I honestly thought I would have a bigger reaction but my Fresh Air and Exercise modifier was still going strong.
This time though, they were leading me into the keep proper. A small thing but it was a keep none-the-less. I noticed a lot more people loitering around it and definitely more banners strewn into the air. The broken wheel on green of the Waynwoods and the black studded and rune-bordered bronze of the Royces chief among them. Actually, the nine stars of House Templeton were here as well.
What was their stake in all this? No wait, they probably had none. They were one the highest house Stoutstone owed their fealty to that wasn't House Arryn itself so they must have come to be the arbiters of this trial.
I entered the hall to see only people of import. The gawkers and courtiers were not anyone I could recognize but if I had to take a guess, they were part of the entourage that made their way down the Eyrie.
Lady Anya Waynwood of Ironoak.
Lord Yohn Royce of Runestone.
Lord Uthor of Stoutstone.
Ser Symond Templeton of Ninestars.
Oddly enough, I didn't see any representative from House Hardyng sitting among the high seats looking down. My guess that they would let Lady Waynwood take control of the situation proved correct it seemed.
The expression on Uthor's face was hilarious though. I could see the sheer surprise in his eyes and face that couldn't be suppressed.
Yup, he was clearly expecting me dead or near dead. Thinking about it, it likely was additional insurance against me calling for a trial by combat. I had already proven my martial might so he might have been worried I could escape that way.
Which meant the option was on the table. It also meant that this was a case for murder. Good. Uthor accused me of murder thinking he could quickly use that accusation to deal with me but it backfired against him. Now he was pigeonholed into that accusation. I wonder how he was going to convince the crowd what I did ranked murder.
They even had a little dais for me to stand on like Tyrion did and the guards led me onto it all while under the gaze of the high table. Uthor looked surprised, Waynwood too actually but that might have been because she was expecting someone a bit bigger who supposedly murdered his ward. Yohn Royce gave no outward sign of his feelings but my Diplomacy skill let me understand people better and it told me he was affronted.
Bitch, I should be the one affronted. You're not the one being thrown into a needless trial.
A serious-looking man who I identified as Symond Templeton began to speak after I had been led to my dais. "The accused has been brought in so let us start. Septon Waymar?" He gestured to a septon dressed in brown robes who stepped forward to give a speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen, faithful followers of the Seven, and esteemed members of this honorable gathering, it is on this day we initiate the commencement of a trial.
In this realm of mortality, we often find ourselves embroiled in the intricate webs of intrigue and deceit. The world is plagued by darkness and the sins of mankind. Yet, through the grace of the gods, we are blessed with the power to discern truth from falsehood, to unravel the threads of deception that threaten to ensnare our spirits. This trial, my friends, is not merely an exercise in judgment but a testament to the supremacy of the divine virtues that guide our lives.
Let it be known that we gather here today, not as judge, jury, or executioner, but as humble vessels of the divine will. We shall be bound by our sacred duty to uphold the laws of the realm and the holy teachings bestowed upon us by the Faith. It is a solemn responsibility, for the outcome of this trial may shape the destiny of individuals, families, and even the realm itself.
As we proceed, let us also remember the mercy of the Mother, the embodiment of compassion and forgiveness. She teaches us the value of empathy, reminding us that those accused are not mere pawns in a game of power but individuals who may have erred, driven by circumstances we may not fully comprehend. Let us seek justice, not vengeance, and remember that a fair trial grants even the accused an opportunity for redemption.
Therefore, I implore all those involved, be they witnesses, accusers, or defendants, to embrace the virtues of the Seven—justice, faith, humility, diligence, patience, kindness, and temperance. Let these virtues guide your actions and words, for they shall serve as the foundation upon which this trial rests.
In this sacred chamber, we lay bare the grievances, the accusations, and the doubts. We shall weigh each piece of evidence with the utmost care, guided by the scales of justice held by the Father, the arbiter of righteousness. Through his guidance, we shall seek the truth that lies concealed beneath the tumultuous waves of human affairs.
May the Seven witness our proceedings, and may their divine wisdom guide us in the search for truth. As we embark upon this trial, let us do so with unwavering faith, unyielding determination, and the unwavering belief that through our efforts, justice shall be realized.
In the name of the Seven Who Are One, let this trial begin!"
The Septon returned to his place at the sides after finishing his speech.
Symond took the opportunity to speak as soon as the Septon finished his speech. "As the good septon says, let us begin. I am the Ser Symond of House Templeton and I will be arbitrating this trial. My peers beside me are Lady Anya of House Waynwood who represents House Hardyng and Lord Yohn of House Royce, the deceased's knight master."
My guessing was correct so far it seemed.
The man turned to look me straight in my eyes and spoke. "Petyr of Kipress. You have been accused of deed most serious, that of the murder of Harry of the House Hardyng. How do you plead?"
"In sight of gods and men, I declare myself innocent of these accusations."
"As all men have the right to but truth will out in the end." He nodded at my response before continuing. "Bring in the witnesses."
What?
Witnesses? What does that mean? Hundreds of people saw me fight Harry Hardyng.
Fucking Dorrin walked in, the squire that tried to gang up on me with Hugh but lost all the same. He gave me a smirk as we made eye contact.
"And who are you?" Symond asked him.
"I am Dorrin, son of Lord Leobar of House Blackshield and squire to Ser Donnal."
"Speak truly on your honor and of the gods, Squire Dorrin of House Blackshield."
Clearly, Dorrin did not believe in the gods because the sheer amount of lies he spewed was utterly audacious. Even I was appalled at what he said with a straight face.
How I ambushed the good squire while he was in a valiant duel with another.
How he feared for his life.
How he and his squire brother was forced to take me on together in a desperate bid for survival.
How even now, his squire brother lay injured from a head wound taken that day.
Hugh was literally at the feast that same night in front of everyone there. I guess this was why Uthor didn't allow anyone else into the trial room. It was a farce of a trial, a mummery he had organized.
Did Uthor put him up to this or did Dorrin volunteer for it?
Eventually, even Dorrin ran out of lies to spew.
"Your statement has been heard and recognized. Is there anything else you wish to say?"
"Only this criminal is punished as far as the laws the realm allow." With that, Dorrin turned and left but not before giving me a self-satisfied smirk which rankled me. I was going to beat the shit out of him when I got the opportunity. Even if I had to flee this so-called justice, I would make sure he gets his comeuppance.
"Petyr of Kipress. What have you to say in defense?" A voice suddenly pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Call anyone else. The melee was observed by hundreds of spectators and asking any single one of them would prove the word of Squire Dorrin false."
"And what honor do you have to be able to challenge the word of a noble?" Lord Uthor cut in. "The melee had nearly three hundred participants. The smallfolk cannot tell one knight from another. No, their words and honor cannot be relied upon." So my word as well was what he was saying.
"There were several men there who witnesses the fights, dressed in cloths of yellow. One of them saw the truth of the matter." I tried again.
"The term is marshal, and yes, there was. He is our next witness after all."
The next witness was named Lucas, the one who had watched the surrender of Dorrin and Hugh, well most Dorrin since Hugh was unconscious at the time. He corroborated Dorrin's little story but my skills told me he was conflicted by his decision. I wondered if he was doing this by command or bribes. Maybe even both. Lucas wouldn't meet my eyes even once.
They didn't even bother to let me offer my own defense.
The next witness was another one of my foes who I defeated who only testified to my ferocity.
Thanks? I guess I was so fierce in the heat of battle that my foes feared for their lives.
It was the flimsiest and stupidest testimony I had heard.
The next witness was the exact same as the previous witness. Another one of my foes who I defeated who also told the same story.
How on earth were they actually believing this?
I ignored the blubbering lies the latest supposed witness was saying and looked closely at the judges.
Anya Waynwood was nodding her head along seriously but I could just tell she was just playing around. Her mind was already made up and it was against me. Was it the false evidence that did so or did she come into this with judgement already decided? No, it had to be the latter. She clearly wasn't stupid nor did she have any traits like Dull.
Symond Templeton was taking his role as arbitrator seriously but he was the same. In his mind, my guilt was already determined and this trial was a formality.
Uthor was pleased that his plan was working but still eager to get this event over with.
Yohn Royce was interesting. He was clearly unhappy with this sham of a trial but was going along with it anyway. Was it angering him because of his Just trait?
I let them go on, declining any opportunity to defend myself knowing it would be pointless. It didn't take much longer but eventually, we ran out of witnesses.
"Lord Uthor, you mentioned a final piece of evidence?" Symond pressed on.
"I did my lord," he gestured to a servant who brought in a pouch.
Wait, that was my money pouch which was seized after I was tossed into the dungeons. I also knew exactly where he was going to go with this.
"Many witnesses saw this wretch take ransom of arms from true knights. We spoke to them all and realized there was an additional twenty dragons unaccounted for."
Whoops. I padded out my little money pouch with a gold 20 command thinking it wouldn't matter much.
"And what do you have to say in defense, cutthroat?" Symond growled at me. This final piece of evidence damned me in his eyes. Well, damned further perhaps.
Well, there was only a single way this could go.
"I've never seen those coins before. They must have been planted in my pouch," I couldn't exactly say I magicked them into existence could I? Deny deny deny. "If I had an additional twenty golden dragons, I would definitely have remembered seeing them."
Those drugs aren't mine officer. My girlfriend's brother's cousin was using the car before me, it must have been him.
"Twenty gold dragons. Is that the worth of life to assassins like you?" Lady Waynwood interjected.
One thing that really pissed me off was someone accusing me of something I didn't do so I replied a bit more heatedly than I meant to. "I am no assassin Lady Waynwood. I did not scurry in the shadows to plunge a poisoned dagger into the back of Harry Hardyng unaware. All who saw me on that day could attest to my skill in battle. None could deny I fought Harry Hardyng in honorable single combat and emerged victorious. I would not have you accuse me of being something I am not."
"The boldness to claim innocence when a man is dead at your feet," she retorted. I could tell her mind was long decided.
"I do not deny I may have struck the blow which ended his life, but it was not with murderous intent. This was a melee, my lady. All who choose to participate in tourneys understand the Seven watches, yet it is not just the Warrior who observes but the Stranger." This was a pointless argument. I would never be able to argue my way out of this. They came into this set against me.
"Enough, must we listen to this lowlife brigand any longer Ser Symond? Let us be done with this shall we?"
"Aye. The gods granted you the gift of arms but it seems you chose to misuse it for murder as evidence shows. The crime of murder is most fell indeed, especially for the case of a highborn. Yet, we are all godly men and must remember the Mother's mercy." The man actually sounded regretful but I knew it was false. "With this in mind, Petyr of Kipress. In the name of King Joffrey of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I hereby sentence you to service at the Wall. You shall be held un–"
"No." I said plainly. Fuck them.
"What?" Symond seemed surprised at my sudden interruption.
"You reject our mercy boy?" Yohn Royce finally said his first words during this entire mockery of a trial.
"Fuck your mercy. I demand a trial by combat."
"You dare insu–?" Symond was getting angry. The knight had no right to anger unlike I.
"I dare. You stand there accusing me of a crime most foul, yet the only evidence brought forth is the testimony of men who bear clear grudges. Men who I have clearly bested in combat, men of low honor and lower character. You would condemn an innocent for crimes by word of these godless men? Nay. it is clear that the justice of man has failed on this hallowed day so I say let the gods right the wrongs committed against both them and I. I demand a trial by combat."
"Trial by combat is not reserved for the likes of you commoner." Symond nearly roared at me.
"And why is that? Does the Seven like you more because you have a house name? Septon Waymar, is it not said that the Seven watches over all, high or low born?" I turned to look straight into Yohn Royce's eyes. The others could block my trial by combat but he was the key, the weak point in which I would thrust my dagger in. "Or is it you doubt the truth of my words?"
"You believe I intentionally sought to bring low the late lord of Hardyng yet that is false. Like I said before, this was a tourney and the Stranger haunts the steps of all those who walk the path of a warrior. If a man should be sent to the wall for besting a man in melee, why does Lord Royce still stand before me? Should you not be at the wall with your own son after the deaths of Ser Grenn, Ser Darrik, or Ser Culler? Yet you stand here accusing me of crimes you yourself are guilty of." Probably a low blow bringing up his dead son, the idea only coming to me because the Septon had the same name as his now wighted son.
All character pages had a kill list and I had ended up digging through Yohn's for a lack of anything better to do. I originally thought he may have been a bit more sympathetic to me for his own accidental kills during tourneys and I suspect a part of him still was. I wasn't sure how the others convinced him to go along with this joke of a trial but I could tell he was none too pleased with it. Perhaps because the death of Harry was partly his fault and the others pressured him into this to make amends?
He was definitely getting angry though it was hard to tell at what. Perhaps at this uppity peasant mouthing off at him and calling him a hypocrite? Or maybe the fact he was forced to participate in this mummer's farce of a trial. Either way, it all worked to my advantage.
"Those were honorable duels." The lack of any real defense only proved my point. Deaths were just part of tourney life and yet here they were, trying to send me to the Wall for it.
"Aye, just as mine was. I dueled Harry and he was found lessor, his training lacking compared to mine." I plunged the dagger in. "The boy should have spent more time in the yard than chasing skirts. Perhaps he would have actually been ready for this tourney." I twisted it.
I was all but attacking Yohn now, insinuating he failed his squire and casting shame and disgrace onto him. The skirt-chasing comment was in reference to Harry's bastard daughter. It was not unexpected for a lord to have bastards but I brought it up anyway because some might view them with shame. Yohn's twitch indicated I had struck true and he was not pleased his squire had sired a bastard.
What I had said was mostly indirect but it was time. My Diplomacy told me he was ready to erupt and I just needed to give him the final push. "Perhaps if the late squire's knight master had dealt with him with a firmer hand, the boy would not have disgraced himself so." My eyes were locked onto Yohns. This was no subtle bandying of words, I was now insulting him to his face.
He took the bait hook, line, and sinker. Yohn Royce erupted, his face bulging with fury as he slammed his meaty fists onto the table and rose abruptly.
"Enough," he roared at me. "This fool child believes himself a godly and just man so let the gods decide. Make your peace as three days hence, I will be your foe and no surrender shall be accepted."
I matched his gaze with one of my own, one of deadly seriousness. "Are you sure that is wise my lord of Royce? A duel to the death cuts both ways."
He gave a deep laugh. "Have you suddenly lost faith in the truth of your words? A trial by battle has been called for and shall be given. I have no fear of a whelpling like you. If I fall, then it is by the will of the gods."
Whelp, here I go killing again then.
"My lords, allow me the honor of cutting down this fool." A voice suddenly interrupted from the sidelines. Most of the audience were people who came down the Waynwood and Royce entourage.
Who the fuck is Lyn Corbray? Well whoever he was, he had a decent enough Prowess.
Oho, what's this? He has a Valyrian steel sword called Lady Forlorn. If I cut him down in the trial by combat, would I be able to lay claim to the sword?
"Sit boy. I am not so old that I need you to fight my battles for me." Yohn rebuffed him harshly.
Shame but thinking about it, I don't think I would have been able to keep the sword anyway. It was one thing to kill a man in battle and claim his stuff, but it was another when he was representing the gods in a trial by combat. If he died, the sword would likely be sent back to his family.
Yohn turned his gaze back to me. "Will you stand for yourself?"
"Aye. As Ser Symond said at the start, the truth will out. I have no need for a champion for the Seven are on my side." Who needed the Seven when you can cheat reality itself. I was still showing righteous anger on the outside but I was utterly gleeful inside that my goading had worked as intended.
Thanks, George for this stupid custom.
"Please men of the Seven, can there be no other recourse other than bloodshed?" Septon Waymar pleaded with us.
"No." Yohn said.
"Nay. It was said by you who said that we gathered here today to be vessels of the divine, but it had been made clear to me that the judgment of man is flawed. Only the gods can correct this injustice now directly." The Septon only shook his head at Symond.
"The accused has called for a trial by combat which has been accepted. Three days hence, on the Mother's holy day, the Seven Who Are One shall decide your fate. I now call this trial halted until such." The watchers were whispering now, probably eager to see some blood. The last bit of such action they witnessed was probably Tyrion's trial.
"Utter foolishness," I heard Anya Waynwood mutter.
The guards came forward to escort me back to my dungeon cell.
Great, back into the hole I go. As I was led outside I caught sight of Alren and called out.
"Alren," the guards were nice enough to let me have this moment.
"Petyr, you are looking better than I thought you would," he said.
I shrugged. There wasn't a good answer to give here. "Thanks for ensuring I got a proper trial."
He looked surprised at that. Probably didn't think I would have figured it out. "It was nothing. All men deserve a trial at the very least. What Lord Uthor tried to do was unlawful." There was a story there but I wasn't going to dig.
"Well, thanks anyway."
"No need lad. I heard you challenged Bronze Yohn to a duel instead of accepting the Wall?"
"A trial by combat actually."
I suspected he wanted to give a sigh but Alren was probably too disciplined. "You should have accepted the Wall where you might have lived years more. The Bronze Yohn is a renowned tourney fighter whose been thrashing men a quarter his age for years now. The Wall is an honorable enough calling."
"Come now Alren, you and I both know I didn't murder Harry Hardyng." I lightly chided the man. "The justice of man has failed so I will call upon the gods for succor"
He only shook his head. "Foolhardy boy."
The guards were starting to get antsy. "Hey Alren, you still got that gold dragon I gave you?"
"Aye. Want it back?" He asked surprised at the seemingly random question.
"Nah. Bet it on me. You'll get some damn good odds I tell you. It'll be my way to thank you for your help."
He only gave me a look to which I replied with a smile. "I'll win Alren. As surely as the sky is blue and the sun rises in the east. The Seven walks with me."
"Aye. I'll do so." He said with pity in his gaze. Alren was acceding to the demand of a child he thought was walking towards his death but thought it would make me feel better.
Good man. Hope he enjoys the dragons he'll take in when I win.
Three days later found me on the same field where the melee took place. I wondered if it was just the most convenient or if it was some kind of poetry where I would be judged by the gods where I committed my supposed crime. Perhaps both. Or maybe they just wanted another spectacle because viewing platforms and areas were packed full.
In fact, they looked even more full than they did for the melee.
Don't y'all have day jobs or something? I would have thought the people might have assumed this was a done deal and wouldn't bother attending.
Ah wait, they probably just want to see blood.
Bread and circuses.
As I was led in through the crowd, I noticed that Yohn Royce had already arrived and was fully decked out, not in stee though but the ancestral Bronze plate of the Royces.
It also functioned as an Artifact but it only gave Prestige rather than any buff to Prowess. Well, actually it gave a bit but less than what a full plate of steel would offer.
It was kinda cool looking to be honest, all in shiny brown. As I got closer, I noticed it wasn't patterns etched onto the armor, but ancient first-men runes.
Definitely neat. Weren't the armors supposed to protect the users from harm and all that if I remembered correctly?
Shame I was going to prove it wrong today. The only magic in play on this day was mine.
I was led to a weapon rack which looked like one of everything was pulled from the armory and laid out before me.
There was even a man catcher there.
… Should I?
No. I shouldn't.
But it might have been funny, just trying to imagine what my Prowess could do with such a thing.
I picked it up to get a feel for it. Huh. Fundaments were all staves but a lot of it just came down to abusing my superhumanity and throwing my opponent around with it.
I put it back and exchanged it for a basic longsword. Looking over to Yohn showed him without a shield so I forwent mine as well. Giving the sword a couple of test swings showed it was solidly made. Now this was good castle-forged steel, unlike my blunted sword which broke.
Moving to the next section where the armor was located to see if I could find anything that fit me properly as all this stuff was built for fully grown men, not for the fourteen-year-old kids who I was.
Should I bother? I vaguely remembered something in the books when Sandor dueled Beric Dondarrion but didn't allow the Hound to wear armor, justifying that innocence would be his armor.
In the end, I donned some boiled leather armor which just barely fit me. I wasn't really planning to get hit but if he did slip by, it might be difficult to explain away how my flesh wasn't marred. I didn't bother looking at the helmets.
I walked towards where Yohn was standing alongside Septon Waymar. The battleground was definitely much smaller now that I had taken a proper look. The dais where the important people were sitting was also pushed forward.
They got that front-row seat.
Better watch out.
Y'all in the splash zone.
"Lord Royce," I addressed the man who would be doing his damndest to murder me today.
"Petyr," he returned. "It is not too late to choose the Wall. Mine own blood is a ranger of the Night's Watch."
What he wasn't saying was that his son was missing. What he doesn't know is his son serves not the realm, but the Others now.
"The Watch is for criminals and I am not such. The light of the Seven will shine the truth of the matter soon enough.
"I am not fool enough to not realize you goaded me into this boy," Yohn confessed, "I can admit my anger got the better of me. You have skill but you will not get the better of me on this day. Cease this foolishness and take the Watch where one may serve the realm."
I shook my head. "Enough talking my lord of Royce. I am eager to return home to my family." I did not see them in the crowd but word of my circumstances must have reached them at this point. Or maybe not, Kipress was a bit out of the way.
His expression hardened at my words. "Very well." He slid his helmet over his head.
"Oh faithful men of the Seven, is there truly no way to solve this without need of bloodshed or violence?"
"No."
"Nope."
"Very well then. As we stand here today, let us remember the virtues bestowed upon us by the Seven. May the strength of the Father grant us fairness and impartiality. May the Mother's compassion temper our actions, respecting the lives at stake. May the wisdom of the Crone guide our judgment, unveiling truth amidst deceit. May the Smith bless our arms and armor, ensuring their steadfastness. May the Maiden inspire purity of heart and purpose. And may the Stranger remind us of the transient nature of life, urging us to confront the unknown. To the fighters, you carry the weight of responsibility. Defend truth and vanquish falsehood with honor. May your weapons strike with precision and purpose, reflecting the purity of your intentions. Let this trial by combat commence!"
Yohn as expected immediately went onto the offense, intending on finishing me as quickly as possible. Everyone could tell the man had little to fear from little ol' me.
Yohn was good, I would give him that. Likely one of the strongest fighters in the Vale but if I had to hazard a guess, the Corbray dude might have been better than him due to youth and his Valyrian steel sword. Yohn was getting on in his years but he was one of those that never let age catch him by, always staying fit and active and taking the youth and vigor of a younger man with him as the years followed him. I hope I would look as good as him when I was at his age.
Moot point actually since I would never reach that age.
Dude was also pretty intimidating at somewhere over six and a half feet tall, he towered over my five feet eight. That and to mention he was in full bronze plate and wielding a greatsword which further allowed him to abuse his reach and height.
Man, I really gotta stop fighting taller people.
Oh wait, I'm still growing so everyone is taller. Herculean trait, are you even trying mate?
It very much reminded me of my fight with Harry. Bigger dudes taking full advantage of longer reach to attempt to batter me into submission. Or in this case, get a single good slice which would probably cut through my boiled leathers relatively simply.
A stray thought entered my thoughts. What if I aged myself up? How much would it affect my height though? Height was a combination of genetics and diet if I remembered correctly but would aging myself up only account for the genetics portion of it or cou–
Yohn managed to pierce my defense and cut into my leather armor, though thankfully it didn't bite though. Damn, he was definitely good. I was absolutely no slouch but if I was just the slightest slower, he would have dealt me a possible wound. It wasn't even a feigned one like before, he was still actually holding back and surprised me with that latest thrust.
Even though Yohn Royce declared he would take no surrender, I don't think it was fully legally binding. As tempted as I was to kill him, I really didn't want to. Partly was ethical as Harry was a mistake but these circumstances were not the same. Since this was a trial by combat, I could legally end his life yet that would likely only invite more issues. Hell, my lord might turn out my entire family from Kipress in fear of reprisals from House Royce. He was a minor-est of lordlings compared to a house only a step below those of the great houses.
They were willing to sentence me to the Wall on such flimsy evidence which I was pretty sure they didn't believe just because I was a smallfolk so there was no way they wouldn't seek retribution in some way for the death of Yohn Royce even if it happened during a sanctioned trial by combat.
That means I had to give him an out. Something that would humiliate him utterly. If I just beat Yohn Royce down, there was still a chance he wouldn't surrender out of pride. The man did boast he had no fear of a whelpling like me in front of his peers so he might rather accept death than surrender which meant I had to go further.
I had to give him an out no one could truly blame him for taking. It had to be made clear something beyond the norm was going on, specifically the Seven was truly on my side
During this entire time, I played it up. I pretended I was only barely fending off my foe's immense strikes. All my hits were restrained so they only bounced or slid off his armor. My blocks were getting slower and rougher, and my stance deteriorating. It had to look like I was clearly on the defensive and soon to lose this fight.
My Prowess and Intrigue synergized together to let me achieve my goal which was nice.
I finally judged that it was time and let loose a couple of seemingly desperate attacks which forced Yohn back.
It was time for some godly intervention.
"Father Above, let your justice be shown! Warrior, lend me your strength!" I yelled in a desperate tone of voice.
I went on the offense. I started slow at first but each swing grew in intensity. My defense slowly tightened up and my stance returned to me which slowly forced Yohn on the defense since I was the one battering him down now.
Yohn swung down at me and I could tell he was definitely getting winded. The downward cut was more raw strength and less proper technique. He knew he only needed one good connecting hit to debilitate, if not kill me but his best opportunity for that was before I let loose.
My sword rose from where it was pointed low and with the back of the blade, I deflected his downward thrust to the right of my body. The boar's tooth deflection was easily my favorite because the same movement that deflects my opponent puts the blade in a perfect position to throw a cut.
Which I did.
At his head.
I held back my strength of course, didn't need a repeat of the last time I smacked someone in the head with my sword.
Normally, this move was risky because it could be feinted leaving your sword badly out of position if you fell for it but Yohn was getting desperate and my superior reaction time meant he wouldn't get the better of me if I was actually paying attention to it.
I didn't push the advantage, wanting to let him and the audience soak it all in. Yohn's parries were dodged by hair lengths by impossible speeds and perception before being ruthlessly punished.
Eventually, I took to one-handing my longsword as a show of strength and dominance. My left hand felt a bit lonely since I didn't have a shield and I felt a bit silly but it was necessary.
Everyone witnessed the strength of my one-handed blows which sent Yohn's knees to buckling and arms shaking with each attack. It was quickly made aptly clear to all spectators something supernatural was occurring on this day. Yohn was a man known for his embodiment of the martial values of the ancient Andals but here he was dismantled by a boy a quarter of his age, a boy who hadn't reached manhood.
They would believe it was due to the Seven which was perfectly convenient to me. This way I could demonstrate my enhanced abilities without being burned at the stake for witchcraft or something.
Hopefully. It was a gamble.
His fancy first-men rune markings had been badly deformed under the strength of my blows. I was just being spiteful at this point honestly. I think if I swung hard enough, I could have been able to cut through his bronze armor but I didn't want to risk breaking my sword.
It probably didn't help that it was bronze in the first place which meant it was weaker than a good steel set. He was padded inside but I had no doubt he would be a mess of bruises tomorrow and the steady hits were definitely wearing him down. Yohn was strong but he was also an old man. A younger man might have been able to weather the assault I was launching for a bit longer but not Yohn.
I decided that it was enough. I took my sword and thrust it into the dirt beside me and rushed Yohn. He cut which I dodged before punching him in the chest.
Yohn flew for several feet hitting the ground and rolling, my fist still indented onto his armor. Have fun buffing that out.
Yohn groaned and struggled to get back up, only managing to pull himself to his knees.
"Septon Waymar," I called out from where he was observing with wide eyes. A quick glance at the audience told me they were all shocked at the outcome. "I believe the Seven have spoken for my innocence." I said it quietly but I had no doubt many heard due to the silence of the crowd.
Turning back to my foe on the ground, "Do you deny this Lord Royce?" The man unsteadily climbed to his feet but kept his sword pointed low before speaking, "No."
"Will you yield Lord Royce? I have no wish to kill an honorable man who was merely led astray." God, I really didn't want to have to kill him so I hoped he would accept.
He had pulled his gauntlet off and was inspecting the dent my fist left in his armor. Slowly and with a pained grunt, he managed to tear off his helmet before he spoke.
"I yield. The Seven declared my cause false." He conceded.
"Very well. Beloved brethren, we stand witness to the outcome of this trial by combat, a confrontation that weighed the scales of the Father's justice.
Through the strength of his arm and the conviction in his heart, the accused stood against the accusations hurled upon him, proving his innocence with valor and resolve unwavering. The accuser, in recognition of the truth that has been unveiled, has yielded and acknowledged the justice that prevails.
The accused, through his unwavering strength and virtuous conduct, has emerged unscathed, vindicated in the eyes of the Seven. Let this be a reminder to us all that the gods reward those who walk the path of righteousness, who hold fast to their convictions, and who face adversity with courage and dignity. I declare this trial by combat ended."
The crowd exploded into cheers but I didn't have the same emotions as the last time this crowd cheered me on.
I was just happy this ordeal was over.
Thanks Georgie, you've created a shithole of a world but I'll give thanks for this loophole.
I approached the stand where the Very Important People were sitting.
The Septon had declared the trial by combat ended and declared me innocent but I was pretty sure I still had to talk to these guys.
Uthor looked unwell but managed to hide it well. Fucker. I knew his secret but proving it was another thing. Lady Waynwood and Ser Symond were looking at me with something in their eyes.
"Petyr of Kipress. It seems the gods have made their will known." Symond began.
"So it had my lord. I knew the truth of the matter and that the gods would not have let this injustice pass."
"The gods have passed sentence. The accusation of murder has proved false." I didn't like his tone of voice. "Yet that does not change the fact that a man is dead by your hands. That fact is undeniable, accidental it may be. House Hardyng still requires compensation in the way of wergeld."
Motherfucker. I mean he had a point, my whole goal was to toss out the murder charge.
What would this count as? Involuntary manslaughter? Accidental killing?
I was too hopeful that a trial by combat would solve all of my problems.
"Very well. I do not deny this."
Question was how much do they want me to pay?
"From Petyr of Kipress, for the accidental felling of Harry of House Hardyng, five hundred golden dragons must be paid to House Hardyng."
That was… A lot? Reasonable? Under?
My Stewardship told me it was above what was expected. House Hardyng wasn't exactly an especially powerful house and neither was Harry their heir. He was not a knight either so he was not deserving of a knight's ransom. Was his value being inflated due to him being the heir presumptive of the Vale?
All I knew was I sure as shit didn't have the coin right now. How would that work in this case? They couldn't garnish my wages and my tournament winnings weren't enough to cover it.
"How long do I have?"
"A year's time." They were definitely still trying some game here but I really didn't care for it. They would get their money easily enough. This wasn't a modern world where they would check receipts and tax documents so I could just spawn it in.
I was so done.
"Enough, the boy will walk free." A voice angrily declared from my side. Yohn had joined me before the dais when I wasn't paying attention and he must have realized they were up to shenanigans again and he refused to stand for it this time. "Young Harry's death is partly my fault so I shall pay the wergeld. Perhaps if I had been harder on the lad, he would have triumphed in his duel."
Now I felt bad. Our duel had clearly taken a toll on him. His bronze armor was battered fiercely with an indentation of my fist squarely in the upper center chest. I could also hear his breathing was labored and he was favoring his left side even as he stood.
Just in case, I checked his Health which thankfully showed there wasn't anything life-threatening. I was tempted to heal him, at least partly, for a second but maybe that would have gone too far.
Othor went from pleased to annoyed again.
"Let it be done then. Lord Yohn of House Royce has offered to pay the wergeld. Obligations to all parties have been satisfied. Petyr of Kipress, you are free to go." Symond spoke in a disgruntled tone.
"My thanks, my lords and ladies. I would like to be on my way back home soon but I would like to ask for the return of my belongings."
"As it should be. Lord Uthor, arrange for it." Symond replied.
Before Uthor could comply, I spoke to him. "Lord Uthor, by strength of arms and courage, I emerged victorious during your melee so I humbly request my prize winnings as well." People bled and died for it, not me of course, but I still wanted my money especially now that Yohn Royce offered to cover my wergeld obligations so I was a rich man. "You can withhold the twenty gold dragons you found. I spoke true when I said I said I knew not from whence those came."
I was partly surprised they hadn't pushed me on that earlier. Perhaps they were going to do so after the sentencing. Surely they would have been interested if someone had hired me to assassinate a highborn but perhaps my trial by combat forstalled that temporarily.
"Perhaps an investigation should be conducted about those." I doubted anything would come of this comment since this wasn't America where a meticulous paper trail existed as evidence transferred hands. That and because I knew Uthor didn't do anything in this case.
"Of course," Symond replied. Or maybe not? I could see Uthor starting to sweat a bit.
Soon enough, a servant returned with my stuff which consisted of only a few items like my bow, knife, broken tourney sword, but most importantly, my money. It was definitely heavier and the second it was in my hands again, the Gold counter in my mental interface jumped up from zero.
It was finally over.
I opened my player character sheet to finally see the little 3d model of me finally no longer behind bars, indicating I was officially free.
… So why the fuck was Alys' portrait now the one behind bars?
Author's Notes:
100 Stat Man coming out to play next chapter. I mean, how can you not write a ck3 story without one at some point?
I hope you guys found this okay at least? The decision to kill Harry was really last second, as in I was writing the feast part of the last chapter and was wondering how Harry would react in such a scenario. Would he get all pissy or what? Maybe he would send a servant to do it in his stead. Then I got to thinking about what if he was preparing for the next day and decided to retire early to what if he retired to heal his wounds. Then wounds became what if he fucking died in his sleep lmao
Then I went with it because I thought it was funny and posted the chapter.
Then I sat down to write the next chapter and realized I had to write myself out of this hole and things became much less funnier.
I'll admit, most of this was done quite a while ago but something just felt off about it but I just couldn't put my finger on what that was so I held off on posting it. It wasn't until I posted an update to my other story which was also 12k words that it finally clicked. I did so much more with 12k words on my other story than I did with this. In the end, I decided to just post this and focus on the future. Wrote all these words, might as well use them after all. Sorry for all the word vomit.
I thought about doing some subversion-type things like lords being reasonable people but I mean, how can you not have a trial by combat? I also like to think they'll be perfectly reasonable to their peers but I'm a mere peasant and all so a message has to be sent.
My thinking is that everyone can request a trial by combat. Peasants just normally don't because who would fight on their account? Their lords are usually the ones judging them and they're the ones with the trained fighting men. According to the wiki, it's just that knights cannot be denied one. I had some thoughts about maybe making Alren knight him as a loophole but knighthood isn't something given lightly and Alren wouldn't dishonor himself to do that.
Alren is an interesting guy. He was originally going to be a one-and-done thing, literally only to exist as a forest encounter to give information to the MC before disappearing from the story entirely.
I'll also be introducing console commands that don't exist for CK3 currently but actually did exist in CK2.
For example, add_modifier does not currently exist in CK3 but does in CK2.
Another one I'll be adding is add_artifact. Dragon eggs are artifacts, right?
Hopefully, the next chapter should be out sooner because I recently had to take two weeks off work and move back home temporarily so I have found myself with a lot more free time.
Or more than likely I'll spend it playing all the games in my backlog. Tears of a Kingdom reviewed pretty well didn't it?
Hope you guys enjoyed and any feedback would be appreciated.
