20.0 (Patreon)
Content
ACT 963161069-26889.24.(M11.D29)(8697 B.C. Sun's Dusk (November) Empty Moon (Fourth Week) Fridon(Friday))-Eve-Smith-Silver Prime
In the dimly lit chamber of House Mormont, the ancient walls whispered secrets of gold and blood. The air was thick with the scent of anticipation, and the flickering torchlight cast shadows that danced like silent specters, bearing witness to the negotiation that would soon take place.
“Do we know why they have come?” Madeline Mormont asked her spymaster. The Silver Bank was a titan that dealt only with gold and power. Nothing she could conceive would turn their eyes to Bear Island. It wasn’t like such an institution needed the paltry pickings of her House.
“There is nothing in the wind that explains their interest in us. We owe no debts and do not infringe on any of their businesses. Our best guess is they need us for something, but what I could not venture.” Spymaster Calloway stated with calm words.
Madeline sat at the head of the long ebony table as Lady Mormont, a fierce and imposing figure. Her hair, once a fiery auburn, was now streaked with silver, a testament to the years she had spent defending her house and her people. Her eyes, as sharp as obsidian, seemed to pierce through the very soul of any who dared to meet her gaze. Beside her stood Tarrow Mormont, her most devious son. He was a tall, thickly muscled man resembling a bear more than a mortal. Behind the brawny eyes was a mind more sinister than anything Madeline had witnessed.
The hounds around the table raised their faces sharply, all facing the door with eerie intensity. The door to the chamber creaked open, and the air grew colder. A short, thin figure entered; its face was hidden beneath a dark hood. The room fell silent as the Faceless Negotiator took their place at the opposite end of the table, a chilling, enigmatic presence. One moment the door was open, and the next, it was closed as if time had passed.
Madeline, Calloway, and Tarrow stared with shock at the short figure sitting opposite them within the great feasting hall. For a moment, Madeline had the impulse to ask if the figure was perhaps slightly lost. She looked like nothing so much as a short child of soft origins. Even as her mouth opened, words froze in her throat.
It's the eyes. Madeline thought. The cloak’s hood covers the eyes, but that doesn’t stop the light from them. What manner of the child has eyes that glow?
They were cold blue pits of calculation that stared out at the Mormonts.
“Greetings on behalf of my House,” Madeline said, burying her earlier words. “What can the great house of Mormont do for our beloved friends at the Silver Bank.” She ignored the sideways glance of her son. He was no idiot; he would adapt quickly.
“Happy to be here. This is my guard, Eve.” Lyessa said in a child’s voice. Madeline chose to ignore the eccentric action of the bank’s representative. If the Silver Bank had sent a dancing bear, she might have words, but all thought of combat had vanished. Madeline concealed her terror when she realized a woman was standing behind the Faceless Negotiator. Behind and to the side of Lyessa stood Eve, a tall, lithe woman, her long raven hair cascading down her back. There was an air of quiet menace about her, an unwavering resolve that marked her as the Faceless Guard.
No one knew she was in the room until it was pointed out. Madeline thought, gripping her carved wooden armrest with fear. It was one thing for a guard to be powerful like her son, Tarrow. It was quite another for them to be completely unseen.
It was like a hole in the world had suddenly been revealed.
Madeline straightened in her chair. She was a Mormont; the Bear did not show fear! The negotiations began with the usual pleasantries as each party sought to establish a foundation of civility. But there was a tension, a silent battle of wills and power beneath the words. Lyessa had already made several power moves demonstrating the Silver Bank’s strength.
The Silver Bank, an old entity, had long held the reins of wealth and influence in the realm. While they did not exercise their power overtly, Madeline was no fool. A Kraken didn’t make waves. It just devoured food. Man, fish, boat, they were all the same to a behemoth of the deep, in the same vein as the Silver Bank’s existence. Their interests were vested in maintaining a delicate balance, ensuring the steady flow of gold from one hand to another. The House Mormont, on the other hand, was a proud and fiercely independent house that had resisted the siren call of the Bank's silver for generations.
They did not take loans. They did not go into debt. They did not raise funds for the house squabbles.
As the talks wore on, the stakes grew higher, the words sharper. Offers were made and rejected; alliances were proposed and dismissed. The Faceless Negotiator was a master of the art, their voice as smooth and cold as the steel of an assassin's blade. For all that, it sounded like a child, or a young girl, that was merely a façade. Lady Madeline could see the sharp mind negotiating favorable conditions with every offer. It was difficult to counter as the Faceless Negotiator spoke of debts owed and allegiances sworn, of lands and titles that could be exchanged for the promise of coin.
House Mormont was not wealthy, but they were offered a silver platter. Lady Madeline feared that if some compromise could not be reached, the platter would bear the heads of her house.
There are a thousand ways they can strike without martial power. Madeline thought as she refused another honeyed offer. I cannot let us go cheaply, but by the same reasoning, I cannot refuse to make a deal.
Lady Mormont was no stranger to the games of power. She had weathered storms and waged wars, and her heart was as hard as the ironwood that grew on her island home. The sugared promises or veiled threats would not easily sway her.
As the night wore on, the tension in the room grew thicker, a palpable force that seemed to suffocate the air. The shadows seemed to draw closer as though eager to witness the negotiations' outcome.
It looked like the entire affair might have come to blows before, suddenly, there was a twist. Lady Madeline blinked as the Faceless Negotiator vanished from their chair.
The hounds reacted once more, starting to growl at the door behind the far end of the table. Madeline was about to silence them, but her son placed a meaty palm on her shoulder and whispered, “The scent of blood is thickening.”
A commotion erupted from the corridor outside. The door to the chamber burst open, revealing a group of assorted assailants, armed and intent on disrupting the negotiation. She witnessed a few of her trusted guards among the traitors, and Lady Madeline Mormont’s face blackened. These fools, what do they think they are doing?
Lady Madeline said, “What is this idiocy?”
“Gold.” A voice said as smooth as butter. Lady Madeline turned in shock to see her spymaster with a thin-lipped smile on his face.
“You’ll never live long enough to see any gold, Calloway.” Lady Madeline said. She gestured at the empty chair. “The Negotiator has vanished. What are you going to do, ransom the air?”
“It doesn’t matter how she escaped or where she is hiding. We’ll find her. The Bank will pay for their weight in gold, and I’ll be retiring somewhere nice, warm, and civilized.” Calloway said with a smirk.
The Faceless Guard, Eve's reaction was swift and brutal. She drew her strangely shaped blade and charged toward the intruders with an almost hypnotic fluidity. Her movements were a dance of death, each strike finding its mark with lethal precision. Blood stained the cold stone floor, and the once-menacing group of fighters looked like nothing more than hanging meat. Eve was a butcher, her blade reaping blood and flesh with uncanny speed. Calloway flinched, cowering from the carnage.
As the last of the assailants fell, Eve turned to face the Spymaster, her eyes as cold as the steel of her blades. Her message was clear: no one would disrupt the negotiation.
“Calloway Cresmont, the Boltons paid you well. Too well. You have grown soft in the safety of the Bear’s embrace. Softness breeds weakness.” Eve said her steps were slow and measured as she approached the spymaster.
Lady Madeline’s expression was like black frosted ice as she heard the words of the Faceless Guard. To have one of their most reviled enemies so close for years was galling. It seems Calloway has bitten off quite a bit more than he can chew.
Eve didn’t make flashy movements, even as Calloway drew two short daggers from his sleeves. Lady Madeline had seen plenty of fighters, and she knew without a doubt the spymaster was out of his league. He wasn’t even on the same continent, if she had to guess.
The exchange was swift, and Calloway’s head rolled to a stop against the wall.
The room grew silent once more, the only sound the ragged breathing of Tarrow. Lady Madeline knew her son was brave, but he wasn’t stupid. The skill displayed here wasn’t in the realm of humanity. No wonder the Faceless had a reputation for success. The Faceless Negotiator appeared on the opposite end of the table as if they had been there all along and inclined their head, a gesture of respect to the skill and ferocity of the Faceless Guard.
Lady Mormont, as stern as ever even as her mind shivered, nodded towards Eve, acknowledging her unwavering loyalty and prowess in battle. If there was one thing that she appreciated, it was a woman able to handle herself in combat. As a veteran herself, Lady Madeline knew the vast gulf that could separate a warrior from success and failure.
The negotiations resumed, but the atmosphere had shifted. It was as if the attack had served as a stark reminder of the consequences of failing to reach an agreement, the devastation that could be wrought by the greed and ambition that lurked in the shadows. The talks took on a newfound urgency, the words no longer sharpened by animosity but tempered by a shared understanding of what was at stake.
The Faceless Negotiator spoke first, their voice a low murmur that seemed to echo through the chamber. They made a new proposal that offered a compromise to both the Silver Bank and House Mormont, an alliance that would ensure the stability and prosperity of both parties.
“Ally with us,” Lyessa said. “Ally with us, and you will never pay the Iron Price as long as the Silver Bank exists.”
Lady Mormont considered the offer, her eyes narrowing as she weighed the consequences of her decision. The years had taught her the cost of war and the price of peace, and she knew that compromise was often the only path to survival.
The Iron Price was paid in blood, steel, and suffering.
It was an abomination forged from greed and lust.
“How would you stop the reavers from reaving?” Lady Madeline finally questioned.
“I will send a single blade to silence the voices that call out for a price paid in iron.” The Faceless Negotiator said with a glance at Eve.
A threat and a promise all in one. Lady Madeline thought.
With a heavy heart, she agreed, sealing the pact with the Faceless Negotiator. The Silver Bank and House Mormont had reached an agreement, an uneasy alliance forged in the shadow of ambition and power. When the agreement was signed and finalized, two documents replaced the contract.
“These are?” Lady Madeline asked, looking at the strange drawings.
“Two locks to bar the seas so that only the Bear’s banner sails.” The Faceless Negotiator said.
“Astrolabe and Compass?” Lady Madeline murmured as her guests vanished like soap bubbles popping.
In the following weeks, the alliance between the Silver Bank and House Mormont was met with relief and suspicion. Its promised stability was a welcome respite for an island that had grown weary of strife and conflict. Yet, some whispered that the cost of such an alliance was too great, that the influence of the Silver Bank would slowly erode the independence of House Mormont.
Lady Madeline Mormont, however, remained resolute in her decision. She knew the realm was teetering on the brink of chaos and that her house could not weather the storm alone.
Word reached Bear Island that the Iron Islands had gone silent.
In the shadows, Lady Madeline knew the Faceless had struck. She had seen the cost of failure, the bloodshed, and the devastation that the ambitions of powerful factions could wreak. The Silver Bank had taken action, and the Iron Price would be consigned to history because of her words. The alliance between the Silver Bank and House Mormont was a delicate thread that must be protected at all costs. Lady Madeline had word from her new spymaster of the state of the Iron Islands.
“Corpses. It is a land of death now.” Madeline’s new spymaster had said with fear in his eyes. She had managed not to shiver at the words. Fortunately, her brilliant son, Tarrow Mormont, learned the secret of the astrolabe and the compass and informed Madeline they were indeed weapons.
Weapons that would turn the ocean into their private property.
New boats were instantly planned and raised to adapt to the usage of the two divine weapons. They no longer need to fear the terror of thirst or the madness of hunger. Precise mapping would allow the Bear’s banner to weather any storm.
Lady Madeline’s eyes glinted as she stared at the ocean from a tower. We must strangle the other houses in the cradle. No ship can sail but our own!
As the seasons changed and the winds of power shifted, the alliance between the Silver Bank and House Mormont grew stronger. Trade flourished, wealth flowed, and the island began to heal from the wounds of the past. The fragile balance of power cemented into a mold stronger than steel, a testament to the wisdom of compromise and the strength of unity. In the heart of House Mormont, Lady Madeline’s eyes, as sharp as obsidian, gazed into the future, knowing that a delicate silver thread held together her fortune and her house's fate.