|
|
Post by Magnate Lucius on Jun 22, 2020 15:58:49 GMT -5
King's Landing was raised to be a city nearly unrivaled within the reigns of three Kings, Aegon the Conqueror and his sons, Aenys I and Maegor the Cruel, a period of nearly fifty years. Since then, there have been some major changes. During the reign of Maegor I, the Aegonfort was torn down and the Red Keep, the royal symbol that dominated the city, was constructed. During the Dance of the Dragons, the Dragonpit, once home to the Sept of Remembrance, was destroyed by an angry mob of peasants and their preacher at the time. During the reign of Baelor I, a beautiful Sept was built to house the High Septon, who once ruled from Oldtown. This glorious Sept was named after the King himself, known as the Great Sept of Baelor. Its harbor isn't as great as others, but still sustains a degree of trade and wealth into the city. The most notorious of places are that of Flea Bottom, a slum where people have ventured into and some never return. The City Watch, known as the Goldcloaks, keep an eye on the city's streets and police everything.
|
|
|
|
Post by Magnate Lucius on Jun 22, 2020 16:13:43 GMT -5
Shortly after Mace's departure...
The attempt didn't go as planned, one bit. While it was easy to lure Humfrey Waters into brothel, but from there, nothing went according to plan. When the wench, who was told to do the deed, moved into position to kill the man, she was bumped by another lusty woman, causing her to move away and be forced to wait. The hours drew on and a second attempt was made, this time drawing him into a private room. Yet, another woman got his attention and this second attempt failed. Finally, when he left, he chanced upon the whore again and was able to be brought in. A mirror, reflecting the knife's blade off a candlelight, alerted Humfrey Waters. Despite being of poor physique, his fist slammed into the whore's face before darting out.
Barely covered, Ser Waters barreled through the entry of the brothel. Why would a woman have a knife?! Seeing her appear behind him at a crossroad, Humfrey yells. "Help! Help!" before darting down another street. He yelled a couple more times, yelling but no one came to his aid. Yet, when he thought he had lost the woman, an unfamiliar object sliced into his neck, ending his run. The Lord Commander, as naked as the day as he was born, fell onto the dirty streets with blood gushing from him. Standing over his lifeless corpse was Ser Osfryd, the mastermind behind the plot.
However, the body was not able to be retrieved. The commotion had caused people to wake up and look out of their windows. There were even people who had witnessed the action, standing in the streets just some ways away! Seeing the corpse of the Lord Commander, a chorus of screams were heard, screaming murder, screaming sin. This forced Ser Osfryd to retreat, without being able to dispose the body. He would have to allow the Goldcloaks to handle this in order to keep his involvement hidden. In due time, the City Watch arrived and things were handled that night.
=================================
However, there was no silence over his death. The next morning, all of King's Landing knew of the murder of the Lord Commander. Spectators, who had witnessed the man's end, said they saw a man with dark hair and uniform, a City Watch uniform! No one said a name for commoners were too stupid to remember people's names. How could any name one person from over four thousand faces of the City Watch's ranks? However, some said that the face looked familiar. The whispers and rumors went about, speaking of what had transpired. There was no hiding what had happened, all knew that the Lord Commander had been murdered in cold blood.
|
|
|
|
Post by oznerol on Jun 22, 2020 18:12:22 GMT -5
"Seven time seven hells!"
Said Osfryd as he leaped from his seat and chased the half-naked man. Never trust whores with the job you gotta do yourself, it was a leason for the morrow. Waters was easy to hunt down, distraught and frightened like a rat, specially for a man like Kettleback. He unsheathed his dagger, soon he got hold of the man and gave him a red smile for the trouble. The blade scratched the bone as it run from ear to ear, Osfryd felt his hands wet and warm from the spilled blood, like a fountain on the pavement. He spits on the dying man as he bleeds like pig.
That's what you get for farting in my office, dim-witted fool.
He would have to get into some trouble explaining what had happened, thanks the Stranger he could lie at face value and without a blink.
|
|
|
|
Post by Magnate Lucius on Jul 23, 2020 19:04:35 GMT -5
Politburo BarryironaquiliferWith orders from the King, the Goldcloaks were deployed into the city and to the various brothels and whorehouses that were once owned by Lord Baelish. A good record of those were at least kept. These havens lightly had hidden treasures and caches left by Littlefinger that were now property of the Crown. On a given day, the City Watch advanced and began their raids. Employees were taken into custody while the whores were told to wait in their rooms. Customers were driven off and these buildings, and some streets, were sealed by royal orders. Ser Lucion visited one of the establishments. The City Watch was already bringing out trinkets and valuables that were placed in chests to be hauled away. Employees, caretakers of these places, were interrogated for what they knew. Books were grabbed and guarded as Lannister began to cob the books of this location. Floors and locked rooms were checked high and low causing some noise. Lucion reviews the pages of the books, finding ledgers for coin that was banked by this place. He went into an office and began flipping through drawers, searching for anything else. Some places might need new deeds written up before they were sold off for profit.
|
|
|
|
Post by Politburo Barry on Jul 23, 2020 22:59:43 GMT -5
"I must admit, Ser Lucion, that I've never been good with sums, as a child and now." The Lord Commander informed the Master of Coin as the Goldcloaks began to pile up the various accounts they'd taken in the raids, while the latter was still rummaging through the office they were standing in. He folded his arms, sparing only a moment to try to understand the numbers he was seeing before immediately deciding against it and turning away. "Perhaps we could divide our responsibilities between us. I could interrogate the men we've detained, try to get whatever secrets they're hiding out past their lips, and leave the numbers to someone who knows what he's doing with them - that's to say, you?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Magnate Lucius on Jul 24, 2020 0:21:13 GMT -5
"I must admit, Ser Lucion, that I've never been good with sums, as a child and now." The Lord Commander informed the Master of Coin as the Goldcloaks began to pile up the various accounts they'd taken in the raids, while the latter was still rummaging through the office they were standing in. He folded his arms, sparing only a moment to try to understand the numbers he was seeing before immediately deciding against it and turning away. "Perhaps we could divide our responsibilities between us. I could interrogate the men we've detained, try to get whatever secrets they're hiding out past their lips, and leave the numbers to someone who knows what he's doing with them - that's to say, you?" Lucion looks up from one of the books at Ser Massey. I believe that's why you're Lord Commander and I am the Master of Coin.The Westermen chuckles before turning another page. Some of the records made sense, but it was clear that there would loops and cycles that moved nonexistent money about. The valuables gained would go for a good profit if sold or melted down for their precious metals. Selling the brothels would turn an additional profit, after lengthy negotiations. Baelish must have stashed gold in these buildings for safekeeping. Banks disguised as brothels. Have your men begun inspecting the rooms below the establishment?Below was where they stashed food and wine. Good wine too! They were talking Arbor Gold, Dornish Red, and such in good quantities. Hmmmm...Lucion turns back to the desk and goes about inspecting the drawers again, being a bit more thorough than before.
|
|
|
|
Post by oznerol on Jul 24, 2020 11:45:45 GMT -5
Heralds spread through the city. Carts filled with grain are placed in few key squares, guarded by goldcloaks and the Baratheon's men-at-arms. Clerks set a tabble next to the carts, parchments and ink at the ready.
"Hear, Hear! People of King's Landing! In the name of Lord Davos Seaworth, Hand of the King, we start a dole of bread among the citizens of this royal city"
The men cried out at the top of their lungs, wearing a livery people could have hardly seen, a field of white onions in black.
"Every head of a household might request an amount of bread! The larger and poorer the family the larger the quantity of wheat he shall be handed! Widows with children are prioritized!"
People started to mass alarmingly, but Davos had sent a sizable amount of men, including a number of knights in plate, who were enough to keep people from descending into a rabid mob.
"Every man and woman found guilty of trying to lie and cheat shall be given twenty lashes and whipped publicly for all to see! People of King's Landing, come to get your bread, gift of the Lord Hand and His Grace, Stannis of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, Lord of the Andal, the Rhoynar and the First Men!"
The banners with the ships and the onions fluttered above the carts, a legion of attendants and clerks distributing the wheat and registering every person who took their bread. Widows were handed a third more than the others and poorer families with low income and many members did get a larger share. The rows of people flowed into the squares where the Onion's men had set shop like veins into a heart. It took the better part of the week, but at the end of it a large amount of bread had been distributed. The cheaters and the greedy were severely punished.
How had Davos afforded this? Easy: all his yearly incomes save a few dragons had been invested in buying a large amount of grain in Gulltown, Rosby and Stokeworth. He had a small keep, now empty, and his expenditures were modest, so he figured out he could do some good for the city where he was born and its smallfolk.
Also, and unknowingly, Davos had carried the first census in many years and the clerks reached a handsome figure of inhabitants for the city: 525,478. Plus a few hundred people that were so rich that could not claim a share of bread. It was solemnly announced at the day of the Gods around the city and from that day it was known as "The Onion Lord's Census of Year 302 After the Conquest". And as such was published. A copy was sent to the Citadel for the maesters to see.
|
|
|
|
Post by Politburo Barry on Jul 24, 2020 23:53:45 GMT -5
"I must admit, Ser Lucion, that I've never been good with sums, as a child and now." The Lord Commander informed the Master of Coin as the Goldcloaks began to pile up the various accounts they'd taken in the raids, while the latter was still rummaging through the office they were standing in. He folded his arms, sparing only a moment to try to understand the numbers he was seeing before immediately deciding against it and turning away. "Perhaps we could divide our responsibilities between us. I could interrogate the men we've detained, try to get whatever secrets they're hiding out past their lips, and leave the numbers to someone who knows what he's doing with them - that's to say, you?" Lucion looks up from one of the books at Ser Massey. I believe that's why you're Lord Commander and I am the Master of Coin.The Westermen chuckles before turning another page. Some of the records made sense, but it was clear that there would loops and cycles that moved nonexistent money about. The valuables gained would go for a good profit if sold or melted down for their precious metals. Selling the brothels would turn an additional profit, after lengthy negotiations. Baelish must have stashed gold in these buildings for safekeeping. Banks disguised as brothels. Have your men begun inspecting the rooms below the establishment?Below was where they stashed food and wine. Good wine too! They were talking Arbor Gold, Dornish Red, and such in good quantities. Hmmmm...Lucion turns back to the desk and goes about inspecting the drawers again, being a bit more thorough than before. Massey replied, grinning at Lucion's earlier retort. "Still, I'll make sure they're at it, on my way to interrogate the prisoners. If you've no further need of me here, I'll leave you to the accounts and be on my way." Not that he had any idea what Lannister might still need him here for, anyway. It was as he'd said - he was the Master of Coin, and Justin the commander of the Gold Cloaks, with completely different skill-sets suited for their respective jobs and not the other's.
|
|
|
|
Post by Magnate Lucius on Jul 25, 2020 0:22:30 GMT -5
"They should have. My orders were to search every one of these whorehouses from top to bottom, after all." Massey replied, grinning at Lucion's earlier retort. "Still, I'll make sure they're at it, on my way to interrogate the prisoners. If you've no further need of me here, I'll leave you to the accounts and be on my way." Not that he had any idea what Lannister might still need him here for, anyway. It was as he'd said - he was the Master of Coin, and Justin the commander of the Gold Cloaks, with completely different skill-sets suited for their respective jobs and not the other's. Lucion says as it sounded like his hand was pulling something from a hidden place. The Lannister snaps the drawer, in half, with his foot and manages to reach in, finding a key hidden in the far back. Well well, what do we have here?He states as he turns the key and examines it. He looks at the Lord Commander. Likely some place hidden. Must be a room somewhere that is not easily noticed.Lucion looks out the office, wondering where it could be.
|
|
|
|
Post by ironaquilifer on Jul 25, 2020 18:56:38 GMT -5
Eldred Hill did not like the cataloguing of Baelish's treasures. Had he the time, had he the men, those jewels and fancy gilded boxes of tin from essos would have bought him friends and information among the guard. It would have been turned into the ale and wine that lifted the lid of secrets. A flash of coins, those could have been the prostitutes which turned adversary into willing advisor. But no, not this time.
Instead he moped, directing the flow of valuables here and there, smiling as a guard slipped a coin here, a fancy watch there. He did so too, already counting the cloaks that could be lined with his friendship.
|
|
|
|
Post by Magnate Lucius on Jul 28, 2020 9:31:10 GMT -5
The key did unlock a door, with a hoard of promissory notes and some cash. No more than 17,000 in total. It was a meager sum. Likely small sums like this that dotted every brothel owned by the late Baelish. The promissory notes were collected by the Goldcloaks and were to be taken to the Red Keep for further inspection. Books were collected and taken there too. Slowly, the City Watch began to report more and more of these being found. Lucion had a lot to report to the King.
|
|
|
|
Post by Politburo Barry on Jul 28, 2020 11:01:20 GMT -5
"Not bad, but not enough either." Massey noted after Lucion unlocked the door. "Wasn't Littlefinger supposed to have squirreled away millions? I sure hope he gathered at least some of it into a few vaults rather than a thousand brothels and inns, less work for us." He cracked his knuckles, grunting slightly. "Once you get to reading those books and accounts, Ser Lucion, do let me know if they lead to any other such stashes. It'd be a lot more efficient for the Goldcloaks to carry out targeted searches than to have to turn over every desk and tear down every wall in every whorehouse this city's got."
|
|
|
|
Post by Magnate Lucius on Jul 28, 2020 11:45:29 GMT -5
"Not bad, but not enough either." Massey noted after Lucion unlocked the door. "Wasn't Littlefinger supposed to have squirreled away millions? I sure hope he gathered at least some of it into a few vaults rather than a thousand brothels and inns, less work for us." He cracked his knuckles, grunting slightly. "Once you get to reading those books and accounts, Ser Lucion, do let me know if they lead to any other such stashes. It'd be a lot more efficient for the Goldcloaks to carry out targeted searches than to have to turn over every desk and tear down every wall in every whorehouse this city's got." Lucion gave a small glance to some of the promissory notes. Promissory notes to all kinds of people. High and low, landed, knightly, and such.Lannister opens another note, looking at it under a light. Quite a few from the Vale though.He remarks, putting the note back among the pile. This will likely take us beyond the capital. I will do some reviews and report to His Grace on the findings. Gonna need some royal permits to expand the investigation likely.
|
|
|
|
Post by pontifex on Aug 3, 2020 14:47:01 GMT -5
Jaime stumbled onto the streets. Dead to the world, that's what Melisandre had said. But hadn't that been true for years? Still, Jaime Lannister would be no more. Had Stannis agreed to this? Surely those who knew him would not be fooled by and disguise he might wear.
He made his way to the docks, wrapped in a cloak, and sought out Davos.
|
|
|
|
Post by oznerol on Aug 3, 2020 16:25:25 GMT -5
There was a lonesome boat, with a man waiting at the rows. He wore a hood and a thick fur-lined cloak. He gestured for Jaime to come aboard.
"Alright, Kingslayer, I'm risking my hide for you. Better make it worth"
Said Davos, rowing towards the obscure shape of a sail ship, a fat-bellied cog waiting in the distance, in the Blackwater.
"You will never say anything of Lady Melisandre's and my own involvement in this, you're honor bound, remember that"
|
|
