When a storm hits, do not go out in it. It's simple logic. A storm is death, and going out into one unprepared is akin to fighting a god. You'd have to be desperate or a moron to be willing to go out into it.
Eddard was desperate.
So the day after summoning Hugo, we headed out, despite all the bad parts of that idea. We did have some advantages.
Bracks and his guys were old school sailors. While the keelboat was exactly going to ignore the weather, it was easier than being in a storm in the open ocean. We hugged the shoreline of the Bite, going carefully but at a good pace. And outside, Hugo, covered in the biggest wool dress Poison had, which we cut to create a makeshift coat, worked the manual part of keeping a ship alive in a storm.
Poor guy. He didn't seem to mind, even though the wool dress we'd hastily turned into a coat didn't entirely cover him. Still, I popped out regularly to give him a potato pizza from the pizza box.
The biggest advantage Bracks and his guys had, however, is that they had my knowledge. I'd known there would be a storm, and when I told them the same, they didn't seem to question it. Maybe they put it down to nobles being weird or my excuse about 'reading the winds' worked.
Either way, they prepped and worked on the Pink Rose before the journey, double and triple-checking until she was ready for anything short of an actual Kraken chasing us down.
Beyond that, I had their word that we should be good. Three trained sailors who seemed confident but not arrogant, men who knew their craft, told me that this would work. I had to hope it would.
So while the storm raged, they worked quickly and efficiently, fed a steady diet of food and water, resting periodically, and replaced anything that might tear or break from our large amount of prepped supplies.
Which left the rest of us without much to do.
Eddard, sitting in the cabin with Poison and I, seemed stir-crazy. Eddard and I had taken off our armor, laying them in a pile at the back, leaving us in simple cloth.
"Are you sure we cannot help?" Eddard asked, looking at the door with a heavy frown.
"The boat is too small, none of us is an experienced sailor, and Hugo is all the muscle we could provide and then some." I answered logically, flipping through a book on Essos legends and myths. "I would love to help as well. But if we want to get there, this is how we do it."
In truth, I was feeling on edge. Being in a ship on a storm did notfeel good. It was unnerving, boring, it shook up my stomach, and overall I hated the experience.
Eddard scowled, crossing his arms. "It's taking too long."
"We're making excellent time considering we're sailing on rough waters," I pointed out. "Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast, Lord Stark. We will reach your home faster than anyone would ever expect."
"...And what will you do then?" Eddard asked.
I glanced up at him. Poison was laying on some quilts, ignoring us while she hummed to herself. She had a small hand-carved flute in her hands, softly playing it. I hadn't known she had one. The small musical sounds made for an interesting sound combined with the rain and thunder outside.
"Well, that will be up to you." I said truthfully. I reached out to my Black Knight's sword, lifting it and holding it out for him. "I want to fight in the war. For reasons both selfish and moral."
"You admit to being selfish?" Eddard asked.
"As much as any man. But I am selfish in the same way you are."
He narrowed his eyes. "I am not-... you dare-"
"Oh? You don't wish to bring Aerys to justice then? You aren't going to war that could kill thousands who had nothing to do with this to save your life and the lives of those you care about, instead of giving up in hopes it will end the conflict before it starts?"
He stared at me, agape. I smiled sadly. "You want your family safe, your loved ones avenged, your people fed and happy, so on, and so on. Noble things. Inherently, they are selfish, but not the way people usually mean that."
"It is not selfish," Eddard snapped. "I did not ask for any of this. My family didn't ask for this."
"I know they didn't. And I said it before. I agree with what you're doing." I grimaced. "Sorry. I'm just saying. I'm only selfish the way any lord is."
There was an awkward moment. Poison coughed. I held my sword handle out further until he reached out and took it, looking over the blade. Hopefully he got that I was trying for a 'my sword is yours' thing. Mostly I felt awkward. I tried speaking more.
"My Keep is small, my lands as well. I have one little village and some servants. But they matter to me. I'm working to keep them safe, full, and happy. To do that, I need to join the war, work personally to end it quickly. Maybe make friends who will be willing to help me make my lands more prosperous after the war as well."
He looked over my sword, not speaking yet. Poison played a couple of notes, a small tune that sounded similar to 'Through the Fire and Flames'.
"I am selfish, being willing to go to war in hopes it will help me and my people. But I think that's okay. I have moral reasons."
Beneath us, the ship rocked, swinging us about. The door opened. Bracks rushed into the cabin, grabbed some tool I didn't recognize from the nearest shelf, gave us a quick nod, then rushed back out without speaking.
"I believe you mentioned your moral reasons already." Eddard said.
I nodded. "Yes. Aerys is an idiot, a vile and horrible king. I would have hoped, one day, that his son would replace him. Everyone said Rhaeger was a good and honorable man. And then-"
"Lyanna," Eddard said, his eyes sad.
"Lyanna." I confirmed. "So the Targaryen's, at least the only ones we have as options, have proven they cannot rule. This rebellion is the right thing to do."
"And you do not believe in following the king no matter what he does?" Eddard's words sounded sad, tired. Like he was just saying the words.
"I believe that kings are men." I said firmly. "And the gods make them men for a reason. They aren't given divine right to rule with impunity. They have a role to play. They must lead, protect, and guide their people. In return, we give them power, we give them boons, we give them respect."
I pressed a fist into the wall next to me. "If they abuse that power, then they shouldn't have it. That is the contract between ruler and ruled, Lord Stark. I believe in that."
Eddard's eyes were cast in shadow. For a moment, just a moment, with my sword held point down between his hands, I flashed back… no. I flashed forward. To a future Lord Stark as he would be. And then further, to a Snow.
I'd only seen art and the tv show versions of Eddard Stark and Jon Snow, but damn. No wonder they said they looked alike. The young man before me, heavy with grief, giving me a look like he was weighing my very soul against his own, had a presence to him.
But he was also a man going through hell and still standing straight under all of that.
"Lord Baelish," Eddard's voice was firm. "When we reach my home, I will share guests' rights. Then we will speak of the war."
"You want me to prove that I can actually fight worth a damn first?" I teased.
Eddard smiled, though it was very quick and small. "Perhaps. Though Hugo alone is worth attempting to hire. I've only met two men close to as big, and only one willing to fight."
Oh, right. The Mountain and Hodor… would he still be Hodor? Didn't he change because of time travel?
"At the least, you provided a means of travel when I needed it most, and House Stark repays its debts. If all you wish is to help me during this… war." He swallowed, apparently still not used to thinking of what we were up against as 'war'. "If that is what you wish, I will accept your help. Do not make me regret it."
"Thank you," I said honestly. He still seemed suspicious of me, but what was he going to do, kill me on a boat full of my friends? And I really hoped I was winning him over.
I then laid back and opened up my book again, before rolling my eyes and tossing it aside. "Now. I'm going to tell you a story."
"A… story?" Eddard asked, bemused.
"I am bored, we have hours to go, and reading in a storm was not the brilliant idea I thought it was," I admitted freely. Reading while the words were bouncing around was annoying. "I am going to tell you the story of… King Bruce Wayne and his mighty knights of the Bat Table."
"Pfft!" Poison spat out, giggling. Ignoring her, I began the story.
"It all began one night, when a young Prince Bruce and his parents left a play called 'The Mask of Zorro'. Unbeknownst to them, an assassin…"
Turns out, it's real easy to twist superhero stories into medieval ones.
With time, patience, and a lot of pizza, we reached White Harbor. Pulling into their port, we were approached by one of the harbor guys about payment.
Eddard Stark stepped out to meet them.
Shortly after, we were hustled into New Castle, Eddard getting treated with all the respect due the scion of a Great House. A whole bunch of guards took up positions alongside him, a horse was brought for him to ride, and he was rushed through town with all due respect.
Poison, Hugo, and I, on the other hand, kinda got pulled along. We still got a lot of attention. Hugo was a giant of a man, Poison was beautiful, and I was wearing cool plate armor. But Eddard Stark, new Lord Stark, got more attention.
That was fine by me. I got two tickets out of the journey.
Click!
[Accolade for your house: White Harbor, Stark Harbor"]
Two Bronze steps of Blessed self appears before you. The step is yours to take.
Two low-levels for getting Stark to safety without any trouble. Which, considering I got Hugo and Poison off of low level tickets, meant nothing.
Holding off on rolling the tickets I got, we instead kept walking, with eyes following us as we followed Eddard through the streets. On banners, I could see the white merman on green that was the House Manderly symbol.
Reaching the actual castle, we were brought into his main hall, where the man himself was waiting.
"Ned, my boy!" Wyman Manderly walked his way over to us. While he hadn't gained the amount of weight he'd be famous for later in life, he was still very big. Pudgy, but in the way that a boxer gone to seed or gladiator might have been, with a big layer of muscle under the fat.
He took hold of Eddard's arms, looking the younger man sadly in the eyes. "My boy. I am so sorry. Your father, your brother. Good men, very good men."
"They were, Lord Manderly," Eddard, thankfully, was a very stoic man. He seemed focused, above all. "And I mean to bring the king to justice for he's done. Are you-"
Wyman barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Of course, lad. House Manderly stands with House Stark. We will raise our banners. And I will send you with a company to your home."
He glanced behind him at Hugo, who made for an interesting sight. He wore pink jeans and a pink tanktop, with a big steel chain around his waist, and a cloak made from a wool dress across his shoulders, his hair still wet from ocean spray.
"Although it seems you came with a company of your own. If it wasn't for his garb, I would assume you brought Walder with you!" Wyman teased, walking over and looking us over. When he saw Poison, he bowed just a bit. "Young lady, you surely are a sight to behold."
Poison grinned. "Well look at you, all gentlemanly. Peter, why aren't you so knightly?"
"I'm not good at it," I admitted, smiling just a bit.
"Lord Manderly," Eddard said, walking over. "These are Lord Baelish and his people. He used his vessel to bring me here."
"Lord Baelish?" Manderly eyed me up and down. I wondered what he saw. Whatever it was, it wasn't enough to dismiss me. "I haven't heard of you."
"I'm not much worth hearing about," I said with a grin. "Just a lord of a tiny keep on the Fingers, and someone who decided to step up for my lord and his allies."
Wyman seemed to accept that after a glance at Eddard. "Very well. Any friend of the Starks is welcome here."
"Might we have someone make some clothing for Hugo?" Eddard asked, gesturing to the big guy. "He was soaked working to keep our ship afloat in the storm."
Wyman looked him over. "Sure. Let me see if I can get a few hundred of my men to give up their clothes to sew him a set."
Hugo grinned proudly, unbothered, in his lane, moisturized and thriving.
Morgan returned to me while Hugo and Poison went to get him some clothes. I stuck by Eddard as his bodyguard of sorts, and when Morgan arrived, it was with a letter for Lord Stark.
"Jon Arryn is besieging Gulltown with Robert," Eddard told us. Wyman and his sons, Wylis and Wendel, stood at a table with me, with Eddard at the center of us and a map open on the table. "He says Gulltown refuses to give up, so they will have to take the town."
"That's a shame," I mumbled. "Gulltown is a good place. Nice folk live there."
"They turned on their lord," Wyman said sadly. "The small folk will pay the price. Nothing we can do from here."
I hoped the guys I'd done business with, Gregor, the shopkeep lady we bought dresses from, all those folks, were okay.
Speaking of which, I needed to speak with the guys in White Harbor I'd set up trade agreements with.
"Jon and Robert will win Gulltown," Eddard said firmly. He noted something at the bottom of the letter and smirked, putting the letter away. "For now, I will head North. Have you gathered a force to come with me?"
"A small one. Speed will have to do in the place of strength," Wyman said. "My son Wylis will join you as well. And a wagon for the big man will be set up." Wyman smirked. "My boys and I are big, but at least we can still ride a horse."
"That might not last. Maybe you should eat less, ser?" I said with a grin. "Then again, pie is delicious."
Wyman pointed at me in acknowledgement, grinning back. "You. I like you."
"How soon can we leave?" Eddard asked, cutting off our banter.
"Tonight," Wyman lowered his arm and pointed at the map instead of at me. "You'll take the road along the White Knife until you reach the Kingsroad."
"Wish we could move faster," I mumbled. "Right now, we're borrowing time we might not have."
"Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," Eddard said, surprising me. He nodded, a hand on his sword. "Come. Let's get ready to move."
While Eddard and Wyman got their guys together, Hugo, Poison, and I got to meet in private in a room we were given to rest in, where I could roll my tickets.
Sadly, the new summons weren't as big as Hugo, but not many things are. Speaking of which, they had managed to cover him in cloth, enough to act as a simple shirt and pants, while his usual gear was being cleaned and dried off.
The first summon, a huge and unwieldy looking weapon, dropped down in front of me on the first roll. It was a familiar, ugly looking weapon, a blade wrapped in bandages, with vicious looking saw teeth on the curved end, and a cleaner slicing blade on the inside curve. The handle was long and wooden, covered in the same bandages. A vicious looking thing, meant to rip and tear.
[Saw Cleaver]
[Uncommon Item]
Bloodborne - Iconic weapons of the hunters. This saw can transform into a long cleaver or a serrated saw depending on your needs. In addition, this weapon is stronger the more beastlike your opponent is.
"That's pretty freaking metal looking," Poison said, watching as I lifted the big saw cleaver, seeing it click open into its longer range form. "I think I saw that on an album cover once! What was that thing meant to fight?"
"Beasts," I answered. Then I clicked the Saw Cleaver closed with a sound like a redwood tree snapping. And then I held it out to Hugo. "Here."
"For me?" Hugo asked, sounding surprised.
"Well, Poison and I aren't really the type to swing something this huge around," I said with a smile. "Besides, you need a weapon. A lot of guys around here will try to fight you with halberds and spears. Having something with some range that can cut through them will help. Besides, the saw cleaver is fucking cool."
Hugo took the big weapon in hand a bit awkwardly. Still, he seemed to like it.
I did my next roll while Hugo played with his new weapon, wincing just a bit as he tested the edge of one of the saw's teeth on his fingertip. The roll finished. And I felt like air deflated from my lungs.
"Awww, man."
[Blood Pack]
[Common Trait]
Your body holds inordinate amounts of blood, approximately 5 times the average person, this does not affect your body in any noticeable way... somehow.
When I explained what I'd gotten, Poison blinked. Then she laughed. "Don't you already have garlic blood? So that means-"
"I now have a small swimming pool of garlic flavored blood in my veins." I said, groaning. "Man. Why couldn't I have summoned another cool person? Like Cody!"
"Cody could finish this war in a day," Poison said, biting her lip just a bit at the thought of her old crush.
"I do not want to see him again," Hugo grumbled, flipping the saw cleaver open and closed like it was a toy and not a sophisticated weapon of death. The world's deadliest fidget spinner. "He's mean and he hits too hard."
"Well, not all the summons can be as cool as you guys," I decided. "For now, there is something else."
I sat down on a dinky wooden chair in front of them. "I know I asked Poison this already, but I wanted to approach this again. We're heading into a war. A real war."
Hugo and Poison shared a look.
"People are going to die. And they're going to try to kill you. If you do join me for this, we'll see horrific things. The soldiers in this war don't fight pretty, and a lot of them don't treat prisoners or civilians with any sort of respect. I refuse to fight like that. While we're fighting alongside Stark, he'll do the same. But we might end up having to take on real monsters."
Poison smirked. "Honey, we know. We aren't new to this stuff."
Hugo nodded, smiling. "Yes! Unless monsters like Blanka," he sounded haunted for a second. "Lightning no good."
"Point is, suga, we have seen a lot of strange, awful things, and fought some weirder folks. This ain't nothin new to us," Poison leaned forward and patted me on the head. "Don't worry, Peter Pan. We'll all get through this, together."
I felt a bit better, with that reminder. "Thanks. Honestly. And like I promised, you guys will be paid as well as I can afford, okay? Now," I turned and opened up the pizza box. "Who wants… more potato pizza?"
"Me!" Hugo snapped to his feet and rushed over, grabbing the whole pizza for himself. Behind him, Poison and I leaned in towards each other.
"Has that thing been able to do anything other than potato pizzas since Hugo showed up?" Poison whispered.
"Not when he is within about 3 meters. I think either his mere presence is fucking with it, or his obsession broke it, because I can't seem to summon anything else right now. Well. I can but it will always have potatoes on it too."
Poison sighed, pressing a hand to her head. "Well. At least he's useful in a fight."
Before we left, Eddard asked me for one thing.
A sparring match.
"So I was right," I said as we entered the training area of New Castle. While Wyman was having our travel plans set up, there were still a few folks around watching us as we approached the center of the dirt field. We had put on some simple pads instead of our armor, leaving us looking more like the other teenage guys around us. "You did want to duel."
"Only to stretch," Eddard said. Despite how serious he looked, he had a bit of a smile to his eyes. I was beginning to see, after the last few days, that his reputation for being humorless wasn't true. He just wasn't the type to 'guffaw' at everything he found funny. "We spent a lot of time on the boat."
"Hell yeah we did." I glanced towards a nearby rooftop. Poison was on top of it, doing backflips, frontflips, and twirls, releasing kicks as she danced up there. No one seemed to notice, because people don't look up too often. I walked over to where the training swords were held, before I noticed a simple wooden stick and picked that up instead. "I could use a good spar, get the blood flowing."
The huge amount of blood I apparently had. Garlic blood. Damn you gacha.
Eddard noted my choice of weapon, and took a wooden sword. He took a position across from me and looked around before seeing a man, presumably the master-at-arms.
"If you would?" Eddard asked politely.
"My pleasure, Ser," the master-at-arms moved forward, looking between us. "Ready, milords?"
"Born ready." I teased.
"Aye," Eddard got into a stance, raising his sword so it was at his waist in one hand, pointed at the ground just a bit, but ready to rise up. I took a stance from a combination of the Kung Fu styles I had, simply holding the stick up in front of me, my body turned to the side and my stance low.
"Begin!" The master-at-arms shouted.
I didn't hold back, blazing forward with all my speed. Eddard's eyes widened, but he got his sword up in time to block my downward chop. And he was sent back a few steps, stumbling before he stopped himself.
His sword and my stick both had dents in it. Strong. He wasn't superhuman like Poison, but he was strong.
I rushed in again, thrusting this time at his chest. He parried it aside, barely, then came at me, swinging his sword. In a series of quick slashes and thrusts, he forced me back. I parried his attacks, feeling a bit excited.
He was good! He didn't seem to be struggling with my caveman strength after my first attack, clearly used to fighting stronger men, and he was skilled enough that I had to work to parry and block him as we went. He was strong in his own right. Of course he was, he'd been training all his life with fellow knights compared to my few months.
However, I had been trained by Poison, and I wasn't going to let her down if I could help it.
I did a feint for his leg, then twirled my stick around to instead attack his chest. When he blocked that, I pushed in, moving closer then bashing my shoulder into him. He took the blow and simply stepped back, then swung at my head, which I ducked before thrusting up at his belly.
Eddard sidestepped that, then stumbled to avoid the side kick I unleashed at his shin, our weapons clattering together.
It was interesting how different we were, but still similar. In terms of stances, especially. Any experienced fighter could tell that Eddard used a more traditional style from the North combined with Vale, while my Kung Fu and Poison's training came through.
Despite that, I felt good about my showing. The Petyr of months ago would have been destroyed. I was giving him a better duel than I could have hoped for.
We rushed across the training field, weapons parrying, thrusting, slicing, trading defense and offense, me throwing in some kicks and punches when I could. At one point, I used my mastery of Lingshu Chin Na to hit a point in his leg that numbed it for just a sec, but Eddard compensated with a frown since I didn't hit that point full force.
It slowed him down. I could feel the moment coming. I just needed my chance. Sweat dripped down my lip as I smiled viciously. We met in one more clash, both our weapons smashing into each other with our full streng-
"Crackoom!"
The weapons shattered apart, sending splinters shooting about. I stared at Eddard, who blinked down at his no bladeless wooden hilt.
"Ah… that'll be the end of it, then," the master-at-arms said, sounding a bit stunned. Then he sniffed the air. "Anyone smell that?"
Garlic?
I glanced at my hands, only to scowl. A small cut had been sliced into my left hand through my glove, just above my knuckles. My blood was pouring a lot more heavily than I felt was required, and smelled very strongly of garlic. "That's me," I sighed, removing my glove and displaying the blood on my hand.
"Are you okay?" Eddard asked, looking genuinely worried.
Click!
[Accolade for your house: Duel of Fates]
A Silver step of Skilled hands appears before you. The step is yours to take.
Yooo, awesome.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said with a small grin. "I have a lot more blood than most."
"And it smells like… garlic?" The master-at-arms asked, looking befuddled.
"I like garlic." I said, shrugging. I ripped a piece of cloth from my shirt and wrapped it up quickly. It would soak through soon, but it should heal up after some green herbs from my stash. "But I'm fine. You though. You fight well!"
Eddard nodded stoically, but I got a sense he was smiling internally. He also seemed interested when I wasn't breathing as hard as he was. "You as well, Baelish."
"Are you going to keep calling me that instead of Peter?" I teased. "I think a guy who injures me in a fight gets to call me what he wants."
Eddard winced. I realized then what he was thinking. "Hey. Your brother fought with honor. And so did you. We should make this a regular thing. I could learn a lot from you."
He nodded. "Yes. You fight in an unusual manner, Lord Baelish."
Ah, he wasn't comfortable with it just yet. A Vale knight at his core. Still, I was okay with that.
Before we left, I rolled my new ticket.
[Adept Cooking]
|Rarity: Rare Skill|
You are great at cooking, at the level of a veteran chef, you can cook most meals with great flavour, there aren't many who would be disappointed with your cooking. You could easily get a job as a private chef.
Instantly, the possibilities for cooking filled my mind. I had a whole host of ideas. Not all of them possible, but I now knew how to make bread, ketchup, all sorts of foods from the modern world, easily! Except, you know, not all the ingredients existed. Still, useful!
And I now knew how to make some foods meant specifically for travel during war.
With that skill in my new repertoire, I gathered together with the others for the journey ahead. Poison was sat next to Hugo in a wagon set up for him. The wagon had two huge draft horses ready to pull it, and I was still a bit nervous. Still, it was better than nothing.
Along with the two Street Fighters, the wagon also held some supplies. Our weapons, herbs, the pizza box, a couple of crates, and some small amount of gold.
"Comfy, Hugo?"
"Yes," he said simply. He gave me a smile, then blinked. "Ah. I sleep now. Good bye."
"Wha-"
He laid back in the furs that had been set up in the cart and instantlypassed out. And his snoring echoed through the air.
"The bloody hell is that!?" One of the men said.
"A snoring big baby," Poison said fondly, patting Hugo's head, the sound of a bear fucking a chainsaw filling the air.
"Ah," Eddard said, sounding bemused. "I suppose we won't have to worry about being attacked on the way by animals. Come!"
We started riding, the snoring of a giant following our group of men. Onward to Winterfell and the next stage of the war. Gathering Stark's banners.