Dark Dreams and Memories
Seventh Day of the Second Month 294 AC
"Why a bit of everything," you answer with a quick smile. "Tales and books and talismans and tools, wards and even..." you break from the breathless recitation as though uncomfortable. "Er that... is glamors if the dead would be minded to pass for the living in places where folk might lash out without thinking or asking first. Not everyone can be a merchant venturer."
If you are being honest, and Varys at least will make sure you will be at least in the silence of your own mind, this is a rather entertaining part to play. There is something about being a magic trader in strange and far off places, living off your wits and words, that appeals to you the way some lords love hunting, gardening, or the forging of steel.
Thankfully, your little performance has the benefit of convincing or at last entertaining the greater dead before you. He turns, followed a moment later by his guards, and motions you to follow into the complex proper.
***
Tall Pines is the sort of place nightmares are made of. Not the worst ones that leave one waking in a cold sweat, heart hammering against one's ribs, but rather the confused sort of nightmares one might have after one too many stressful days, or poorly fermented beer that went down hard.
The Great House itself was clearly in ruins before the Rising of Sarnor with little more than the foundations and a few pieces of wall peeking out of the tall grasses, since rebuilt by the tireless but inexpert work of skeletal hands from vague memories. It leaves Tyene glancing up more than once, looking concerned that it might all tumble down on your head. The furnishings are a mix of similarly hammered together work, and a few pieces that look to have been looted from elsewhere judging from the splintering and dark stains.
Upon these seats lie people just as strange, playing the part of provincial nobility with eerie deftness, from ladies worried about the fashions of the capital even as they are draped in rotting funerary bandages and grave shrouds, to young men proclaiming their martial valor wearing helms with dents and holes where the arrow of some now long dead Dothraki slipped in as they fought in a last defense, perhaps of this very place.
It takes you a while to even realize how much your hosts are present in the moment how much they understand of their circumstances. The answer you eventually decipher is 'quite present', but they simply do not wish to dwell upon it, a taboo that hangs over the entire gathering, thick as the scent of fading incense and old blood.
"I'm glad the children are sleeping," a young lady says to Teana, somehow forming the words in spite of the absence of a jaw. A moment later you realizes she means in their graves as the family patriarch gives her a brief glare for mentioning that which should be kept silent.
Most of them seem quite taken with the notion of an empire that has abolished slavery, though in a distant sort of way, as most Braavosi would take news of the Jade Sea.
After everyone has drunk some wine you produce from your cloak, for whatever taste they get out of it before it spills onto the ground or lies rotting in their stomachs for those fortunate enough to retain most of their flesh, you turn the conversation to your reason for being here. From what the folk of Tall Pines say, Kasath has been taken over by 'the Mob', as they refer to the many-souled abomination Eskil had described. Beneath the distain, thin as fine rice paper, there is yawning fear that none of them wish to show. Fear of being devoured, perhaps of being lost in the chorus of screening voices.
Probing around the edges of the matter over the evening's conversation, you discover that everyone here trained to fight has sworn some manner of binding oath to 'Kasath the Eternal' as the city and perhaps also its master are named. Worse still for the greater dead, they do not actually command their 'peasants' nor indeed do the bones of the workers even originate from here. All are under the command of the colossus and merely 'lent out' to help rebuild the manner and sow the lands, fruitless as the latter task might be.
What do you do next?
[] Hint that one of your companions has some skill at curse-breaking, see if anyone is interested
[] Send Vee and Dany out to look at the lesser dead under the pretense of needing to look after the horses you left some distance away
[] Try to take the lord aside to explain that you have closer ties with the Dragon king than you previously said
[] Write in
OOC: I have to say it's really fun to explore different shades of undead and what might have created them. Not yet edited.