A Weave Twice Spun
Thirteenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
It is a little past midnight when you and your three companions reach King's Landing, following the guidance of a spell-marked stone. You find your mother, sister, Maelor, and Aradia in a most uncommon locale and company just as unexpected. It is not that you never could have imagined looking to a whorehouse for information. Given the rumors about the Usurper's habits you suspect the courtesans of the capital must be quite well acquainted with royalty. No, what is uncommon is to find is them planning their next move in the madame's boudoir, the woman obviously well aware of what they are if not specifically who, with warding to match.
Chataya is a tall woman of Summer Isles' descent whose age you would not care to guess save that it is more than five-and-twenty and less than forty. Her eyes are the color of sandalwood and hair dark as ebony. The scent of spices and perfumes clings to her silken dress, though you would guess more from spending time in a chamber where such things hang heavily upon the air, the better to part amorous young noblemen from their coin. A riot of gold and green feathers about her shoulders completes an image that is rather more sophisticated than seductive, which you imagine is the point. One would not wish the customers to set their eyes on her over her 'girls'.
She rises gracefully to her feet the moment you appear and curtsies precisely as deeply as much as etiquette demands of a woman of low rank in the presence of a king. Perhaps she has had practice at it. Hearing the lilt of the Isles in her voice and recalling your mother's account of the manners of those realms you press your open palms together against your chest before bowing as is custom there.
The woman's eyes light up with pleased recognition: "The second time someone reminded me of home." Almost wistfully she adds, "Maybe it's the gods' way of calling me back. I would not normally presume to be worth a summons, but the world is much changed from what it was a handful of years ago."
Second time... You look to your mother and find her looking upon the scene with none of the awkwardness or hesitation you had expected to see there.
Guessing your unspoken question, she speaks up: "Chataya has been very useful in our investigations, not only into what is now talking place in the Red Keep, but some things from years past."
You frown at the words. Whatever secrets the madame had shared with her seem to have left her troubled though still well disposed towards the messenger. Surely nothing to do with your father's affairs, he had hardly bothered to hide those from her or anyone else at court.
Dany clears her throat, the sound managing to be businesslike in spite of the fact that she is currently sitting on a tall spindly table, legs dangling over the edge. "King's Landing is so tangled with plots I would not even call them webs. More a tangled mare's nest of treachery with just enough magic to make everyone involved sleep with one eye open."
"Great," Vee rolls her eyes. "You pick apart what needs picking and then I'll help with burning the rest."
"But fire is so much more interesting when it is controlled..." Nuri offers, lazily leaning against a wall.
As you soon learn you will need every sort of fire under the sun to deal with the cesspit that King's Landing has become in this two hundred and ninety third year since its founding. The Lannisters are obviously the most powerful faction on the streets, from having great sway over many gold cloaks to being in possession of the only mage's institution left standing in the city after 'the gods smote the Alchemist's Guild'. Still, from what Maelor in particular has been able to discover among the thugs and gang-lords of Flea Bottom, they have almost no influence and little respect among the seedier parts of the city.
The poor of King's Landing remember the sack perfectly well and many still bear its scars, and they remember too that the gates were opened in peace. No matter how many times the Golden Shields are praised for their defense of the realm, the memory of red cloaks in the night does not fade.
"We've found no evidence of active Deep One agents, thank all the gods, though there are some rumors about how they attempted to infiltrate the Faith," Dany continues. "Nothing solid yet on that, there has not been time to follow the leads, but there was definitely a thaw between the Most Devout and the Lannisters around the same time these tales mention."
"And Varys?" you ask.
Your familiar lifts her head and asks in jest: "What, do you have need of me to kill the fool who is usurping my name already?"
"Trying to track down his 'little birds' was like chasing ghosts," Aradia replies. "We tried ambushing them near the tunnel entrance into the Red Keep, but none used it the nights we set the ravens looking."
"And finding tongueless urchins ain't exactly easy round Flea Bottom," Maelor adds. "Worse shi... er, mess than the place I grew up in. At least the bloody ruins were made of stone that would keep the rain and wind out if you were careful."
"So we looked for magic, then infernal influence, until we found a thread to pull," your mother continues, sparing only a sigh at Maelor's less than perfect efforts to avoid invective. "The problem is that we have no other names beyond the messenger imp. Varys' agents don't seem to know anything about each other, though there are hints that is for a deeper reason than just him being a mistrusting snake who surrounds himself with his own kind." For a moment you see cold rage imprinted on her features.
Varys, along with the Grand Maester, had been the one who counseled your father to open the gates of the city leading to the sack. Had he already been plotting treason then? You shake off the thought in favor of a more current question: "What hints?"
Chataya interjects boldly: "There was a man who passed by here three months ago, a Pentoshi by the tongue he spoke though he tried to pretend he was Volantene. He was most interested in my girls, but only on particular days... after the king had given them a tumble. The gold cloaks and a Lannister wizard came looking for him eventually. I later learned they did not find him for he was guarded even against sorcery that might see him from afar."
"So you think the man was from the Cheesemonger?" you muse. "An agent of the Golden Company?"
"And that the Spider is at the center of two webs," Dany nods. "It would be such a
shame if someone tore them both down from under him..."
What do you do next?
[] Ask more questions
-[] Write in
[] Try to summon the messenger imp whose name you have for interrogation
[] Write in
OOC: For anyone wondering why the brothel is such an important hotspot for intrigue, it's because of Robert and other high ranking noblemen visiting. Chataya's girls hear a lot more than most and she knows how to leverage it. The move towards Viserys is in effect her trying to cash in her chips and go home in triumph.
