The Faithful Power Grab.
The exterior of the Sept of Baelor, was empty if one could call only a few hundred people in a very important ceremony empty. It was quiet enough, and safe enough, that you felt the need to bring only Ser Arys and Ser Barristian. You needed to set a good example of chivalry and good morals. As well as you could. The Records of Arys Oakheart was something that was very… encouraging even when he was appointed by Robert.
And Barrisitan needed no introduction for his… reputation was so immaculate in terms of honor and loyalty, that even the Faith would have a hard time justifying doing anything to him.
Now you on the other hand… were not going to leave anything to chance. You dressed rather well considering the circumstances, also in a humble manner that would not only avoid attention, but as well as make you look less like the King, and more like a Merchant. Visible, yet invisible, and well enough to look plain and humble. Gareth the Bard taught you how to blend in, and while your religious education was… well poor, you were still raised in the Faith for your entire life and knew the Seven-Pointed Star to memory.
Well as well as you could, given your other obligations. While being raised in the birthplace of your religion should have given more appreciation for the finer points of theology, fearing for your life took priority.
"Ser Arys, does this outfit make me look fat?" You asked as you looked back to the Knight, who was wearing more traditional armor of his house than the King's guard. A necessary part of the disguise. "Because it makes me feel fat."
"It does not make you fat, it is ill-fitted, why did you not get it tailored?" He said.
Ser Barristian was still in full Kingsguard armor, but that was because trying to make him look like a beggar or another knight was impossible. His face was far too well known in the city, and making him try not to wear his armor was a sacrament to kicking him away from his post.
And he would never willingly do that. "His Grace wishes to be incognito. Something that is impossible due to my presence." He replied before he looked at you. "Must you make a fool of yourself with this Theatrics? Why must you hide among the Smallfolk as you fear for your life?"
You were going to refute him, but the number of times that King has nearly died in this city was far too much to your liking. Even though that was over a hundred years ago since the last time that occurred. You were not playing around with your life. "I consider this an extra suit of armor to protect myself, Lord Commander. Anonymity is its own armor."
"So is a breastplate." Ser Arys quipped.
That made the Lord Commander roll his eyes. "Ser Arys." He chastised.
Oh, Barry, please do not be the killjoy of the court, that was Lord Eddard's and Stannis' job. You did not need a third that would stop the wit from flowing. "Ser's should we kill the high Septon, or consider negotiations?"
"In broad daylight? With hundreds of people possibly listening, during a feast to the Saints?" Ser Barristian looked appalled at the mere suggestion of killing the head of the Faith.
Arys however was far more considerate. "Last resort probably, but Ebrion might destroy half the city in our attempts to escape."
You nodded. The dragon fire was never your first option in any problem when things went wrong. The Second or Third Option, most certainly, but never the first. "So assassination is out of the question unless we are in danger. Well-spoken Ser Arys."
That made Barristian facepalm. "Your Grace, would you please think more… rationally?" It was like he saw your father for a moment before he remembered just how much you liked to joke.
"I am Ser Barristian. If we can avoid tens of thousands of deaths to serve our political purposes then I am all for it. I didn't survive this long leaving things to chance." You said.
"Then at least consider their demands or our options before considering the unsavory choice." Barristan replied.
The presession was coming closer and you could see in the distance through the Shatterpoint that there were hundreds of people gathered a round a single palenque, with a man quietly but enthusiastically waving to the people of the city. The man's face and was shrouded in cloth, and even as the robes attempted to hide it, the High Septon was a fat man. A morbidly fat man that reminded you of the great owners of pillow houses of Lys. The girth of the man was draped in simple robes that hid, as you saw clanking, jewels, rings, and other ladend artifacts on his person.
The man, known as the emissary of the Seven, the most devout, and the Leader of the Conclave of Septons… was the most disgusting and repugnant man you had ever seen in your life. And that was including the Cheesemonger of Pentos and the Monster Euron Greyjoy.
And he hid it well by hiding behind the cloth and being carried around like he was the King of Westeros.
"He is almost here." Barristian stated with a small huff as he stepped forward to cover your face with his armor.
"He's gotten fatter," Arys stated as he folded his arms. "How in the Seven Hells did he get fatter?"
"Well, I can think of a few reasons?" You replied. "Poor diet, excessive eating, whoring, disease, or maybe he just is a fat bastard in the eyes of the Gods and Men and has been cursed to be what he spiritually is."
At that Arys and Barristian looked at you with bewilderment, absolutely at a loss for words at what you said. "What? You like you've never blasphemed the Gods representative on earth… I've killed one?"
"Which God was that?" Arys quipped. "The God of Death?"
"I think it was the Drowned God? Don't know what mad God Euron believed in, but it's a good guess." You replied.
"ALL RISE AND BARE WITNESS TO HIS HOLINESS THE HIGH SEPTON OF THE GREAT SEPT OF BLESSED BAELOR, SPEAKER TO THE GODS! SHEPARD OF THE FAITHFUL AND MASTER OF THE LAND'S BLESSINGS." The Crier said. "MAKE WAY!"
You were pushed towards the side, but still remained standing as the Stampede of people that wished to see the High Septon pushed pulled, and shoved their way towards him.
"To the Sept Gentlemen." You stated, going against the crowd. "Before the crowd tries to kill us."
And the three of you moved to the Sept.
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The Statue of Baelor the Blessed was covered in Bird shit. A common occurrence gave the carrier pigeons, ravens, and other avian creatures that roamed the interior of the Great Sept. And you were certain that it was going to be foreshadowing, considering how bad that everything may befall you.
Or the Faith, considering that Baelor was a damn sight madder than most of the other members of the family.
As you wandered and waited for the High Septon to stop pissing himself and adoring the many Faithful that were quite willing to ask for many things.
"Hello, Baelor…any advice?" You said. It was a fool's errand, but any advice on how to deal with the faith was better than no advice. It was a fool's hope, but you are quite used to that at this point in your life. And while Baelor was a mad man, and in the end, too faithful for his own good…
You did know the faith better than anyone in the Targaryen Family alive. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, you did not know.
"Talking to the Past King for advice?" Arys asked as he leaned against one of the pillars, and ate an apple that he had in his pouch.
You raised an eyebrow. "In the sept?"
"What I'm hungry. And I didn't get a chance to eat before you dragged me out onto this mission." He replied. "And it's not against the law to eat in here."
"But it is against tradition, Ser Arys." The High Septon's voice boomed as the three of you looked towards the entrance.
He walked with several helpers to keep himself straight and tall. But he did move on his own, something that surprised you, considering his size. This must be important enough to him to put in the effort.
If only to keep up appearances it seemed.
"Your Grace…Long has it been since a King has honored us on a feast day, with an even more long appearance. Humbling before the Gods himself, with little color or attachment to your House." He was baiting you. "Your Grace, if there is something you wish to ask, please ask it, and I will do my best to see to it done?"
The Gall on that man almost impressed you.
Almost. Jaime was right, he was a fat fucking fraud, who haggled worse than a Dornish Fishmonger… or Volantine Diplomat.
"I would hope, that you would answer a few questions, Your eminence, with as much truth as we can both give before the Gods." You replied.
There was a tense silence, as you saw armed men come from behind the pillars. Men with carved stars on their foreheads. Poor Fellows.
An organization that was, by legal standards, an illegal organization when it came to bearing arms.
Barristian and Arys both drew swords. Though both men stood at the edge and prepared to battle, you remained calm. This was a mere intimidation tactic to try and… get leverage for negotiations that were soon to occur.
Well you walked right into this one, didn't you?
Fuck, should have brought Mandon. He would have made a good shield and seemed to have the character to die slowly under pressure. Then you could feel safer at night when someone you trusted was at the door.
Alas…this game was beginning, and he thought he had an edge. Mostly in location, confidence, and of course, his bloody certainty in religion that makes the most ardent people seem unnaturally questionable.
"You have done something very brilliantly… frightening to the Stability of Westeros. You have ordered the Faith to no longer pay the taxes that were clearly laid out in the Convention of Blessed Baelor. You have begun to arm the Poor Fellows, in violation of the Convention of Maegor, as laid out in Treaty, by good King Jahaerys. And you are launching an inquisition into my subjects, for fear of magic… that was outlawed with Aegon the Conquerer's conversion to the Faith." You folded your arms. "You can see how this is becoming a Problem for a King who has already inherited a very dangerous situation, where Westeros needs unity. With the Faith of the Seven deciding unilaterally, to act as an independent nation within my own."
The High Septon, very clearly, looked shocked, putting on an act he knew, and you knew was faker than Jaimie Murmuring.
"I seem to recall that the Faith had given your family many privileges in regards to your family's far more outrageous practices… From incest to Magic. They can very easily be taken away." That was a threat. And he knew it. Yet he just threatened you right here and now, in front of the gods, and all these men.
At that, Ser Barristian stepped in front of you, to protect you from the sight of a crossbow that just arrived. "Your Grace, you must understand that the Faith, is quite… adamant and always willing to protect the West from the terrors of the East. From the foreign… the strange. And the Unknown."
The implication was obvious, crude, and ill-fitted as his robe. You were as Westerosi as he was, given the sacrifices you made to get to this point, and he knew it…you've never felt a more hollow lie.
That made you angry. "I stopped a monster from killing my people. While you sat there and did nothing."
"Once again, you misunderstand our actions."
"Men of the Faith being slaughtered for their physical looks? Their ancestry!" Your hands began to shake in anger as you pushed forward past Ser Barristian. This led every single man that was protecting the High Septon to take a step forward, to prepare to stop you. "What is the Verse in Books 13, chapter 12: 'The Lost, the Misguided, and the Exiled, will always have a home as guests, in our humble septs, for they are the faithful, and our protection.'" You quoted the book with rigorous anger. "Yet, you let Robert slaughter the children of Valyria, the faithful Children that they all are, and did nothing!"
"Understand High Septon, and I say this as a man who quite clearly has the patience of the Seven themselves… That what you are doing is not only treasonous… but Heretical in the eyes of the Gods themselves, and if you had any moral compunctions, which I doubt you have, considering your actions as of late, you would prostrate yourself and beg for forgiveness from his victims. Instead of standing here, talking to me about the faith."
The High Septon, despite having the threat of a dragon pointed at him, stood like he had all the cards. "Yet, you come to me, threatening me with two knights of the Seven… and a Dragon that is no doubt ready to fly to your aid. You seem to forget that there is so much more that you do not understand Your Grace. You are on the throne because we allow it."
You gritted your teeth as Lord Stannis did, and you understood why he did it. "And you are still alive because I do not have evidence that you were complicit in these actions. For if you were… I'd have my dragon eat you."
At that, The High Septon actually laughed. Laughed like he had heard a joke from you, and his other men joined him. For but a moment, the High Septon looked like a jolly fat man. "You know, your father had similar ideas. Yet he never ever saw them through."
"What does my father have to do with this?"
"Well you see, back when he returned to King's Landing from Duskendale, and he forced Lord Tywin to resign, he came to my predecessor. He was wild-eyed, feeling… well, you know your father, Madder than even the maddest Targaryen." His words hurt you, but he would not get the pleasure of seeing that on your face. "And he made an offer."
"An empty one." He continued before you could speak. "But one he thought he could use to make his position stronger. You see, he sent the Faith, 1 million Gold Dragons for a promise, a very simple promise I assure you, Your Grace. To never interfere with the Crown while he was alive, to never interfere with his projects, or his governance, or take up arms for him, or against him. Seeing that the Kingslayer stabbed him in the back, our deal was concluded."
You were angered. "Aerys would never make such a deal with the faith."
"Oh but I assure you, that he did." The High Septon smiled. "When he died, Robert allowed us the freedom to continue our work. For the safety and security of Westeros."
You wanted to hurt this man, who was lying right to your face! He was lying because you knew your father, Mad and traumatized as he was… never gave the Faith Gold. He despised it because it was powerful enough to rival him. To threaten him.
To kill him.
But you instead looked through the Shatterpoint. And saw many things. But most certainly, a line. A line that was cracking, ready to break down at a moment's notice. Because of all the man's bluster, and power.
He was afraid of you.
"All I hear High Septon… is a man who does not understand the enemy he is making. And that if you refuse to see me, as I am in treaty and convention… then we might have a problem that cannot be easily resolved."
"Religion is many things Your Grace… patient is one of them." The High Septon stated. He did not back down as you attacked. "Problems can soon become solutions with time."
"We should leave," Arys said, his whisper filling you a sense of reminding, and grounding. He made you lose focus.
"Nothing is to be gained from this." Barristan said calmly.
"It would be wise to listen to the Knights of the Seven." The High Septon said. "They are wiser than you are."
You then bowed your head slightly to the High Septon. "Then I bid you farewell Your Emminence. May the Seven Protect you."
"And may the Seven protect you, Child." He replied with a greeting of his own. "And be careful your Grace. There are others who do not share my… wish for you and the Crown."
And as you walked away, and you were far enough away, Arys Quipped. "Well that went well, we walked out alive and with no bloodshed."
Something told you that this was not going to be the end. This was just the beginning.
Reward: The Faith is beginning to Rearm illegally. And Robert had a hand in it as well. Something that you cannot stop with just simple words.
The High Septon has used his influence to stop the Septs all over Westeros to stop paying their taxes.
The High Septon is trying to undermine your authority by covertly challenging you and trying to get people to do nonviolent rebellion. And you must find a way to undermine him and his own, and remind the people the Faith is meant for them, not the Faith using them.
The Inquisition continues, though now under political scrutiny from the Crown and your lords. They cannot hold trials without the Lord being there as judges.
New Faith Actions Available.
