Of Spirits and Flame
Twenty-Sixth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
Finding Ser Erren Florent is no hard task. Dany had the forethought to set an Inquisition agent on his trail when he left the jousting field, for his own safety. The knight had meandered to some of the less well-off parts of the city near the west gate where he had found himself a tavern that catered to day laborers and apprentices more than willing to trade silver for enough cheap wine to cast him into a stupor. At any other time you might have felt disdain at seeming him sprawled over a table, one hand still vaguely outstretched towards the pitcher, but if ever there was a time to drink oneself into oblivion it was after hearing such news as the Florent knight had gotten.
You enter the tavern in disguise and slip the innkeeper a few copper groats for the use of a more private chamber before leveraging the half-conscious Ser Erren inside with Ser Richard's help. After taking a few basic precautions against being overheard, you clear the knight's head.
"Your Grace, I apologize for..." he stutters, rising to his feet.
"Peace, Ser. We all deal with grief differently," you reassure him. "If you still feel the need for it once our conversation is done, then I will open my own stocks freely, whether your preferences run to Dornish Red, Arbor Gold, or drinks farther afield you will find them all ready for the pouring."
The Florent knight nods, grateful for the understanding before moving on to the business at hand. He is not particularly surprised at the news of fey treachery compared to the depths of his own kin's betrayal of blood and oaths, and he greets the news that the Tyrells are deep in bed with the Court of Stars with a sour grunt, confirmation he had been expecting no doubt.
When you bring up the matter of loans and finances his eyes bulge slightly at the magnitude of the Tyrell debt. It is hardly a secret to anyone in the Reach that the Florents resent Tyrell lordship, claiming truer descent from the Gardeners of old, so to have Highgarden owe them more than half-a-million dragons must seem madness. That it was devil's work and not folly you keep from him, for you still hope to come to an agreement with Highgarden rather than casting them down.
"I can't make a pledge for debts or offer fealty in aught but my own name, not like this," Ser Erren shakes his head. "My uncle Colin is in command of Brightwater as castellan, but he's the youngest brother. The new lord aught to be my uncle Axell, and he's been at Dragonstone for three years now keeping Prince... er, I mean Lord Stannis' keep in order, though it looked like the bloody Lannisters were going to boot him out for a while..."
"What do you think Ser Axell will make of all of this?" you ask, not precisely looking forward to treading on Stannis' toes for the purpose of turning his gooduncle to treason.
"Well, he's not one of those who falls on their knees and start praying or calling to the Seven every time they see a woods witch make fire, so he's not likely to have much trouble with you being a sorcerer. He always did have a soft spot for my sister Selyse from what my father used to tell me, probably why he went off to Dragonstone to begin with."
"Would he take at your word for what happened at Brightwater?" you ask as gently as you can. You could doubtlessly make him see by taking him there and showing him the aftermath, diabolists may be better at hiding what they are than most other kind of cultists beholden to dark powers, but Alester Florent's sanctum provided plenty of proof of horrific dealings.
"I've got a letter from uncle Colin right here..." he extracts a somewhat creased letter from his pocket, the seal still intact. You refrain from mentioning how easy a seal and letter would be to forge and instead agreeing to meet with Ser Axell at once, both to give him news of his elevation and secure House Florent's allegiance.
***
So it is that the night wind bears you off again, this time back to Dragonstone with dire news, again to speak of devilry, though not before assuring yourself with careful divinations that Ser Axell had nothing to do with the devils who had ensnared Joran. It would be bitterest irony to dispose one devil-bound lord only to set another in his place. Thankfully you do not have to give poor Ser Erren yet more black news as he takes advantage of your earlier offer. His eldest surviving uncle is innocent of consorting with Hell.
Early evening finds Ser Axell working at his ledgers by candle light, the grey goose feather quill having obviously seen hard use in its time. You wonder if he will be pleased on hearing that soon he will be managing his own accounts, given the manner he had come to acquire them. As he turns to face your unexpected presence, you are happy to see a ward against most sorts of possession and compulsion hanging from his neck, though you are surprised to see the talisman worked into the flame of R'hllor. There is a rather long way from 'is not uncomfortable with mages' to converting to the worship of the Red God.
Still, it does not cause you any trouble in reaching him. If anything he seems to take your appearance and your news about as well as could be expected, calling for the Red God's mercy on his eldest brother and nephew for their sins, accepting you as his lord almost instantly. You have the rather uncomfortable feeling that Ser Axell is among those R'hllorites who imagine you with a flaming sword in hand.
"Bah, gaudy nonsense," Dark Sister whispers in your thoughts catching the image.
Nor is Ser Axell any more reticent to sign over the Tyrell debt as soon as he has properly come into his inheritance, though the way he speaks of them and their fey allies rings some rather uncomfortable bells to your ear. 'Purging the unclean' is a perfectly acceptable way to deal with Mammon's influence, but you would rather not have him try to burn down any forests of his own initiative.
Fortunately, speaking before the gathering priests in Volantis, not to mention Melisandre, had gone a long way to honing your arguments in such matters, and you manage to soften Ser Axell's newborn zeal to the point where he will not be causing any more trouble than he will fix, in the process discovering that it had been his niece who converted him. How Stannis is dealing with that you cannot even guess, nor do you wish to linger to discover. The man is prickly enough at the best of times.
"It was Shireen that started it, you know," Ser Axell adds almost in passing. "She's been having dreams about dragons and fire. Selyse asked a red priest about it, then he showed her the path."
Dreams... perhaps you aught to step in if not now then soon, or better yet have Dany do it.
What do you do next?
[] Speak to Lady Uraka and the Court of the Orphne
-[] Write in (optional)
[] Play and proposal
-[] Write in (optional)
[] Write in
OOC: I figured you guys would like to nail the Florents in quickly so I rolled through meeting Ser Axell quickly, especially with the background rolls for Dragonstone making him so favorably disposed. You are kind of running out of evening, though. If you want the proposal today you will have to postpone the Braavosi discussion for tomorrow.