Uncommon Craftsmen
Twenty-Eighth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
Ferno the Fat has been responsible for many of the finest confections in Sorcerer's Deep, his work admired by some lords, princes, sorcerers, and even deathless spirits, yet the man looks so uneasy in being brought into the keep that your mother gives up the notion of interviewing him here altogether. Instead she travels to his bakery and questions him in the comfort of his own kitchen while the baker himself keeps himself busy with his craft, claiming it helps calms his nerves at 'being made a mummer before so many'.
By the time the first batch of pies have been slid into the oven, however, your mother had managed to get him to forget about the mirror, the people beyond it, and speak instead of only the tale of his life. As an 'Old Deepsman' Ferno had been far less prosperous in the old days, but even brigands and pirates needed bread so he had mostly been let be by the larger gangs, barring the protection money that was an inescapable part of life in Sorcerer's Deep in those days. The worst Ferno had ever had to ward off had been ambitious thugs hungry for silver or rowdy youths looking to make a name for themselves, and a good hard look at the baker is enough to see that there is plenty of muscle beneath the fat still and he proudly shows off his cudgel next to the hearth, though quickly adding that he had not had to use it once since 'the Dragon fed the Squid to the tree'.
Odd as it is to hear of your deeds as though recounting some particularly bloody child's fable, you cannot deny a warm surge of pride at all you have built here, a realm where honest folk can rest easy and be about their business, and even when tragedy should strike they might have a chance to ward it off. The master baker recounts how his youngest child, Silvie, had been stricken with a fever and would have died if it had not been for your friends' magic. In those days there had not even been 'the Houses of Healing' with a sign outside the door, just an old abandoned warehouse Dany had commandeered so that sick people would not have to trudge all the way up to the keep.
Before your mother can ask the next question another baker makes his appearance, one of the Essarians, though dressed very differently than most of his kin. Most make do with straps and pouches to carry things, not needing anything more than their fur for warmth in the balmy climate of Sorcerer's Deep, but Tufted Tail is wearing pants and a shirt with polished bone buttons, even a felt cap buttoned under his chin. He explains that while the clothes are not particularly comfortable they are necessary while working to keep fur out of the merchandise. Even with all the precautions Ferno had lost business for a few weeks after he had taken on such a 'strange' apprentice.
The master baker chuckles at the thought that an Essarian could be strange. "Now those folk coming out of the Terminus,
they are the strange ones..."
At least for a few more months, you think, amused at the rate Sorcerer's Deep is changing. You expect to see Azer smiths and Oread masons be just as ordinary in a year or two.
"So what do you plan to do from here on out?" your mother prompts with a smile to keep the naturally gregarious baker from rambling on his vague ideas of what might lie beyond the Terminus.
"Well, as to that I'm planning to buy more shops. I have more than one son you see, and it would do my heart good to know them all masters of their own craft beholden to none but themselves. I took a loan from the Iron Bank to grow the business." He chuckles. "Hard work may be the flour from which such deeds is done, but silver is the yeast and the Braavosi are not so stingy with it as is said..." He stops to take the pies out of the oven then explains, "Silver I mean, not actual yeast, I've never had to borrow that. I grow my own, you see."
Far from the shyness of the interview's beginning, Ferno proceeds to advertise his business to all the thousands upon thousands watching.
Perhaps you should allow others to do so, but in a more structured way.
***
The pies are as delicious as they looked, and as is often the case they are delivered alongside an Inquisition report by an ever-thoughtful Hestior. What is less common, however, is Garin's writing upon that report. Usually routine reports are far below his notice and Roger 'Reyne', the man in question, had seemed the very definition of routine, a hedge knight taking on the banner of a House counted foes of the Lannisters for the sake of currying favor with you.
"What is it?" your mother asks with a sigh. She has long since given up trying to argue against working during desert and tea, though sometimes you suspect that without her you would only eat at feast-times or else whatever cake or confection Dany sends through your study door after having enjoyed it herself.
You read the report once, then
again, not shocked but startled. Ser Roger had not come alone, he was accompanied by one who had visited Sorcerer's Deep before, though not under the most happy of circumstances. Jeyne Weaver, once one of Tywin Lannister's Golden Shields whom you had captured in Lys as she was about to justifiably stab Aurane Waters, had found her way back to the Deep.
Had she recovered her memories? you wonder. The moss is strong, but as Joran had proven there are magics to restore stolen memories. More importantly, however, you wonder if she is friend or foe and what her presence at the hedge knight's side means.
What do you do?
[] Go to speak to Jeyne and Roger yourself
-[] Write in
[] Send an inquisitor
-[] Write in who and any suggestions
[] Write in
OOC: Just to spare you guys hunting though the thread, this is the update where you leave Jeyne in the Stormlands without her memories of the day before. She is introduced 5-6 updates before.