####
The Howling Cat,
The Howling Cat was the name of the ship that Brandon Stark was admiral of. He named the ship that because he wanted to name the future carrack the Howling Wolf instead. A big ship for a proud name.
But when Wylis pointed out that folks might associate Cat in the ship's name with Catelyn Stark, the woman that Brandon was supposed to marry, things got awkward. Brandon pondered renaming the ship, but it was considered unlucky.
In the end, Brandon accepted his command. Though he was just the second in command, learning from Wylis. It was even more confusing for Brandon because, as far as he knew, Wylis had never even ridden a ship, let alone steer one. So how did the giant of Winterfell captain it so well?
Nonetheless, that was a thought for later. Right now, Brandon Stark was stuck with fifteen murderers and rapists, babysitting them to ensure they didn't jump off the ship and vanish inside King's Landing.
"Orys! For the last fucking time, if you try to run again, I'll cut your throat and swim in your blood!" Brandon roared at the sailor. "Listen, if you bolt now, you'll be hunted, not free. Lord Wylis will hunt you down himself. Do the job, earn real coin, and you'll walk away a free man. That's the deal."
It was frustrating. Being stuck amongst that many wretches meant always keeping an eye on your own back because gods know who may strike first. Their eyes were full of treachery, always seeking a chance to escape or worse.
They had barely reached King's Landing alive in twenty days. Halfway, they had to quell an uprising as the fuckers divided themselves into two camps and waged battle. Wylis and he had to knock each one of them down to bring them to their senses.
"Eh, just once, M'lord. Haven't had a cunt in years. So many pretty lasses around here."
"..."
"Hear! Hear!"
The other sailors shouted.
"You've got coin for a whore?" Brandon asked.
There was complete silence.
Brandon sneered at their faces and spat off the ship, only for his spit to land on some poor manual laborer who cursed back. But Brandon ignored that and only looked at the wretches. "Ha! I know you bastards well enough. You wouldn't need a coin, not you lot, you'd just drag the first one you fancied off the street."
The men looked away, as if embarrassed.
Thankfully, right then, he saw Wylis boarding the ship, loosely holding a large sack on his back with Gods know what. "Finally! Free me from this madness. I'm done, I'll be back before sunset."
Brandon just jumped away, hearing Wylis interrogate the sailors as the last words. He rushed to the Street of Silk and ran into the most decent whorehouse, though nothing expensive. Women and wine, only that could quell his true thirst.
The ship was fucking cursed. He could already feel it. No way taking criminals on the first voyage could bring good luck.
####
Morning, King's Landing,
The Howling Cat was indeed cursed. As soon as they set sail come morning, clouds covered the sky, rain poured like madness, and the sea became violent. It was their first storm in that cog as the journey from Ramsgate was a smooth sail.
"Shorten sail! Shorten sail and heave to!" Wylis shouted.
"Heave to, aye!"
Say whatever, those wretches really knew how to man the small ship, saving it from being thrashed in the sea. And since Wylis was actually giving the right commands at the right time, the sailors followed his word.
"Fuck! Fuck this!"
Brandon was a cursing mess, facing his first-ever storm at sea. The water was so violet that if any of them were to fall, survival was impossible. Well, not unless that person was Wylis.
Normally, it took two to three days to reach Dragonstone, but it took them five, having to sail carefully in the storm. And it really was a storm, as it lasted for nearly two days straight.
When they neared Dragonstone, the sun was setting once again. It was going to be a moonless night, and the sea surrounding Dragonstone was dotted with the royal fleet. They were all anchored with no intention of moving.
In no time, they were boarded by whoever was commanding the blockade in Lord Stannis' absence. And sure enough, it was an interesting man.
"Lord Kaiser."
"Ser Davos Seaworth." Wylis greeted him back with a warm smile. "We meet at last."
"Didn't know I was worth talkin' about, M'lord."
"Not easy to forget a man they named the Onion Knight," Wylis said with a chuckle and invited the man to the middle of the ship's deck. He'd have taken him to the captain's quarters if there were any. The ship was a tiny cog, not a real three or four-masted carrack. They only had a tiny, makeshift cabin prepared for Rhaella later.
"Well? What's holding you, M'lord? Any word for me from King's Landing?"
Of course, Ser Davos thought that. Wylis was amongst the closest allies of the current King. It made complete sense.
"I'm afraid not, Ser Davos. The ship needs mending, and I need rest. The storm near tore her apart, poor thing. First time I captained my own vessel, and the sea near made me regret it. I'll sleep a bit before I start barking orders again."
"M'lord knows how to captain a ship?"
"And tie the sails too," Wylis said with a grim smile. "Gods, I've no love for this work, that much's certain."
"Give it a few years, M'lord, and you'll find a ship feels more like home than any bloody castle." Ser Davos laughed. "But I saw it, the storm was rough. Best you take shelter on my ship, M'lord. She's sturdy, and there's room, and ale aplenty."
"Would love to, Ser Davos, but…" Wylis stepped closer and whispered his situation, revealing that the sailors were mostly wretches and couldn't be left alone.
Ser Davos eyed the sailors then, and he probably saw something in their shameless, hungry eyes that he shuddered. "Aye, they're countin' on that fine sword of yours. I'll see you fed and watered, least I can bloody do."
Exchanging a few nods after that, Ser Davos left, and Wylis took a silent sigh of relief. It was good that Ser Davos didn't press him for anything. Though, from him simply being there made it harder for Wylis as well.
"So? What's the plan?" Brandon asked, staring at Dragonstone in the distance.
"Davos is a master smuggler; he knows all the secret ins and outs, and probably has eyes on them. I'll have to take the one route nobody else would dare to."
At Wylis' words, Brandon looked towards the castle, mainly the cliff side on which the castle sat. The edge of that side was basically a massive cliff formed by the island's stone base and then the towering walls of the castle.
"That's fucking suicide!"
"I'll manage. Not the first time I've climbed dangerous heights." Wylis gave the sailors a hard look, catching their eyes quickly before they turned away. "Watch yourself. They're up to something again."
"These ugly shits." Brandon cursed. "If we didn't need them."
"Easy now. Let the sun set first. We'll act after we see how deep their folly runs."
####
Night fell, and darkness covered the entire sea.
From the cog, only the flickering lights of Dragonstone were visible, the walls of the castle manned. Then there were the flickering lights of the various ships around them. The sea was gentle, but still loud.
Loud enough to suppress all the shouts, screams, and cries.
"We can't kill every last one, Brandon. Someone's got to sail us back."
"Half?"
Wylis stared at the fifteen men on the ship's deck, each holding a stick or something else to use as a weapon. After a month on that ship, they seemed to have overcome their differences, united together, and decided to just get rid of the two men who held their leash.
"Let's do that. Half." Wylis drew his sword, a shorter one since space was limited. He didn't have the help of Earthbending on the ship, but he really didn't need it to deal with a few wretches.
"What's their grand plan then? Steal the bloody ship and sail off to nowhere?" Brandon scoffed, drawing his sword. "Idiots, the lot of them. No surprise they ended up as outlaws."
Wylis took the first step forward, not wanting to waste too much time there. "Last chance. Lay down your sticks and get back to work."
"There are fifteen of us and just two of you. We're taking this ship, either with your dead body or without your dead body," said one of the sailors.
Wylis sighed and didn't try to talk again. He raced forward with the shortsword held sideways. He ducked a little, gave no time to the sailors to respond, and just swiped a massive arch with his sword.
"Argh!"
"Fuck!"
"Gods!"
The sailors tried to block Wylis' strike; of course, they did. But their sticks lost to Wylis' blade. They cracked with a loud splinter, and blood sprayed everywhere. Not deadly, but enough to throw the three men back, long gashes marring their chests or shoulders.
Ting!
[New Side Quest - Insect Infestation!
Description - A Tyrant stands above all. A Tyrant tolerates no mutiny, nor disrespect. Purge the insects who dare to. (0/15)
Reward - Ability: Eye of the Judge, know a criminal merely by the way of speech, the way of standing.]
Sweet reward! Damn! But I can't kill all of them. Not yet.
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