Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Man, that sounds like an amazing brothel.A Reunion of Sorts
Seventh Day of the Fifth Month 294 AC
What does hot baths, expensive wines, luxurious meals, floating in mid-air, and pillow houses have in common? They're only found on Sorcerer's Deep of course!
Cloud Palace is one of the most prestigious courtesan's place, or whorehouse as a crass Westerosi who can't afford even the door pass call it, in the realm and only serves the most well paying clientele.
Which of course why the old/young group of men choose this place celebrate the good fortune of one of their comrades into a position high in power.
"Cheers to the new Minister of Trade!" Koron tumbles into the air laughing. "Now you can finally pay me that 20 marks I gave you in Qohor four and ten years ago!"
Menel, making a pillow of a buxom Summer Isle woman in the air raised his eyebrow "Which time were we at Qohor was that? The third? Didn't you stole my money pouch at that time to pay off a debtor?"
"Naw, that was in Qarth three years past that." Lothos called out from within a "cloud fortress" in the company of a woman. "And that was me who swiped yo-"
"I knew it!" Menel interrupts. "You costed me 400 marks that year mister!
"Didn't you make profit right after that?" Grazdan noisily chewed while floating upside down. "That was after you and Thin Terion gambled on that pirate's scheme with Pentos."
"Now that's a name I haven't heard for a while." Aubert interjects while drinking from a floating bubble of wine. "Fat Terion on the other hand, can rot in hell!"
Koron grunted, "Bah, they're both dead Flowers, him and that woman both. Speaking of him, wasn't he our last recruit that applied? No one else came to join after, right?"
"I think so." Menel laid down on a bed of clouds after letting his lady of the night off to fetch more wine. "Old Tevos would have known... as would Tor."
The mood darkened a bit, but for Grazdan loudly gulped down a bubble of beer and proclaimed. "Brightsmile! That old bastard really did us good selling his house to our patrons, haven't he?"
At that Menel brightened a bit and threw up a cup of wine he has called to be brought forth. The spilled wine coalesced into a bubble before him. "To Brightsmile and the old place that brought us good fortune and youth!"
He struck the bubble and the magic of the place split the wine into equal bubbles that floated to each of his companions locations, including inside the clouds where Lothos was still... partaking.
"To us, the last of the Windwalkers! Sail Windwards on this age of the Imperium!"
Cheers rang out between the five and more for drinks were drunk, when Koron suddenly spotted an odd patron of this place surrounded by his own buxom women. Something about the odd way the person held his cup and lazed about.
His eyes widened in recognition, got his companions to be silent, and dragged out a protesting Lothos who immediately shut up after a quick explanation.
The five floated over and gathered around the dozing person, the women looking at them in alarm.
The bearded man blinks his drowsiness away as he realizes he's surrounded. "How may I help you... friends?"
"Volantis, nine years back. I found him lounging in the same position and holding the cup the same way." Koron said. "Which I snatched and drank, then I was rolling on the floor later my bowels roiling. And you know what the bastard did?"
The Rakshasta sighed and answered for him. "Kicked you in the stomach till you puked it all out."
Koron snorted. "So you do know that at least. Bastard was at fault, but he did save my life that one time. Hello Tor, we've been looking forward to meeting you as it seems you've been avoiding us."
The shadow man shifts in his position into a formal seating one, but with a posture of one who's used to holding a rotund belly even if his current form doesn't have one.
"I've been commanded to avoid playing cruel games with you lot, and I won't as I don't want to make enemies. Do you object to the name? I could change it if it means peace for all of us."
Grazdan laughs. "Talks with that same condescending tone too... No, the name's fine. We've come here to know what manner of being the Imperator has made out of a fallen friend. We wish to know how much of him is still with you."
At that, the shadow man raised an eyebrow drawing another memory of a man that was gone among those who remember. "A quick answer to that would be half, but that won't be satisfactory.
"I am made to be a guide to the paths your former friend walked among the shadows into places of power. I have all the memories and thoughts related to that, his ways through this form, and nothing else. Of his life before that, only glimpses related to the path he took as he trekked through paths hidden from the light."
There was a mild tense silence after that, which Lothos broke. "Ha! Half of Tor he says, but still speaks with all those cryptic words. Tell it to us like we're five!"
A wry smile broke the person's lips. "Because I know you'll ask as always Lothos, so for you half-wit pirate, just the bits and pieces, and memories and thoughts as he passed through a place where he buried his treasure."
At that, Aubert perked up. "Oh, what kind of treasure?"
The Shadow Guide leaned back relaxing in mid-air. "A god."
Everyone lapsed into silence, until Menel spoke up. "You know, we were just talking about our group having the last applicant a decade ago. Does your bits and peces know about it?"
The being of form and shadow thought for a bit, "Someone named Terion? I think. The memories thought of him as a buffoon and comparing him to the nasty denizens of the shadows."
"And no one else joined or declined the invitation." Menel continued. "The Windward Society, a place of decrepit old men, basking on old glories waiting to die, as one creative rejection said. But we aren't decrepit now, are we?"
"Your point being?" Tor asked.
"My duties will stop me from joining, but I can support you with funding as I had before, except for the times I've been dragged along by you lot. What say you lot look into that treasure in the name of the Windward Society to put our name out again?"
"Won't the Imperator protest? asked Aubert. "Didn't he made you to guide him to this treasure for himself? he turned back to Tor.
"He didn't ask me to keep secret about it." he replied. "When I was made, his majesty is more concerned about my other purpose, which I believe I have performed well enough."
"And that is?" Koron asked.
"Leading him and companions through a fortress of shadows in order to shank a different god."
There was silence again, until the Minister of Trade spoke up. "Why don't we grab this treasure for him then? Wouldn't that make a statement and perhaps get people interested in our group?"
Another raised eyebrow, Tor answered. "Oh? But I a not member of the Windward Society.
Grazdan responded with a laugh. "Once a member, is alway a member, half of Tor. Does your memories tell you that?"
The Shadow Guide laughs back. "Oh it does, and also that you owe 20 marks for that wine press you bought just before old Tor left Braavos."
Bickering, reminiscing, and attempts at debt collection followed the lot through the night.
The next morning, Menel Goldentooth submits a proposal for an expedition to the Shadowlands, by the Windward Society.
Notes: Well, if no one wants to hunt Sseth down, lets get others to do it!
Visit for the exotic prostitues, stay for the contra-gravity seating and floating wine bubbles.
