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The obdurate gaze of the Dornishman, Lucian, swept about the crowded confines of the harbor side winesink as he shouldered his way through a throng of patrons milling about the entryway. Treading through tawny amber puddles -of what he hoped was only spilled ale,- he noted a wooden effect depicting
a burro relieving itself that was prominently displayed above the back bar.
How appropos.
a burro relieving itself that was prominently displayed above the back bar.
How appropos.
The Dornish siblings had recently disembarked from a merchant sloop outbound from Braavos, relieved from their contracted duty accompanying the harried sailing crew during a journey across the narrow sea. Looking out at the approaching shoreline as the hull cut through the surf of the Bite, Lucian begrudgingly agreed to part ways once they reached port and meet his sister after he had finished with business. When the ship pulled into dock Lucian busied himself with collecting their commission,somehow getting himself roped into assisting the crew with securing the ship's rigging to the mooring.
Meanwhile, Ryn had disappeared into the outskirts of White Harbor, intent upon ‘stretching her sea legs’. Of course such diversion meant she'd be found whiling away the evening in the company of drunken mariners and haggard wenches. Lucian had promptly steered his way toward the nearest dive. Now he found himself standing there mired in the stench of fish, piss, and booze ...
A sudden flurry of motion caught in the periphery of his vision drew Lucian towards the back of the establishmen, preceded by the clattering sound of a chair knocked to the floor. A table full of rowdy men occupied this gloomy corner, alongside his sibling and a beleaguered looking barmaid.
Stirred by some manner of slight, Ryn had hauled a stocky sell-sword out of his chair; Wrangling the inebriated man to his feet with one hand clutching at his neck as if he were chicken while the other grasped at a tuft of hair and pulled at the scalp.
“ I’d see us to even ground…” Ryn intoned, leaning in mere inches away from the man's face.
She deftly withdrew a dagger from her cloak then, tapping the flat of the blade against the man's pelvis in a languid staccato rhythm. Lucian looked on, amused by the startled squawk that escaped the man. “By parting c**k from between legs.” She punctuated the statement by severing the leather belt cinched around the man's waist. The man's attached sword and scabbard clunked to the floor and as an added effect the dead weight dragged his breeches down to the point of pooling around his knees. Ryn shoved the man aside, and peals of bawdy laughter erupted from the seated audience as he toppled onto his backside.
"Had your fill of fun yet, Sand? " Lucian wondered aloud. Ryn turned to the serving girl waiting in the wings who promptly relinquished a tankard of mead with a coquettish smile. "I didn't think so." He ventured after a beat. Blatantly ignoring her brother, Ryn downed a hearty mouthful before patting the maid on the arm in thanks. "Let us set out on the morrow. Now hold tongue and drink." Ryn shot over her shoulder. Lucian gave a shrug in acquiescence, moved to pluck the tankard from her grasp, and claimed the nearest empty seat.
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