Chapter 7: Chapter 6
You Have Slept in a Bed, HP and MP Fully Restored!
I awoke refreshed and ready to take on the challenges of the day. Yesterday had been a hell of a day, even for one's first day after being ROBbed. I pulled up my inventory and equipped my Brigandine. I had about 10 Golden Dragons from dungeon running last night, which should be enough to drop off my armor at a reputable smith to get the enamel recolored to something more appropriate. Since my dreams had been what I can only assume were the memories of the body I'd jacked, I knew that Robb Pyke was a Greyjoy Bastard, one of the Last Ones Aeron Greyjoy had sired before he found Religion in fact. Black and Gold seemed more appropriate than the Faux Kingsguard Colors that were default for the set.
Of course, when I think Master Blacksmith in King's Landing, I think Tobho Mott, the Qohorik Blacksmith who knows how to reforge Valyrian Steel. The question was would he be insulted if I went to him for a simple job like this? I had no doubts that he could do it, but there was the possibility that the Job was beneath his notice. Of course he was also probably busy with various orders for the high lords with the upcoming tourney. They tended to go all out on the pageantry with impractical decorations on their armor. I even think Stannis got into the act with gilt stag horns on his helmet. . .or maybe that was Renly, I can't really remember. It wasn't important anyway as I wasn't entering the Joust and so wouldn't run up against either of the Baratheon Brothers, though I MIGHT run into Jaime Lannister. The Books didn't say if he entered the melee, but he seemed like the type of arrogant prick who would enter all three events for bragging rights. He sure as hell didn't need the money or notoriety. . .
At any rate I did my business in a piss pot, indoor privies not being a thing that the clientele of the Myrishman's Head could generally afford and washed my face, hands, and neck in a wash basin, before heading downstairs to consume a light breakfast of eggs and onions, washed it down with a weak ale and headed out the door towards the Street of Steel. As I walked I noticed several people heading that same way, all of whom had the bearing of Knights. Probably going to check on their orders. They had to have put them in when the Tourney was just announced, a full suit of armor takes quite a bit of time to forge and the various smiths probably had multiple suits on order. Fortunately the recoloring of enamel shouldn't take too long, maybe a few days to a week or so, depends on if it was foisted off on apprentices or not and if so, how many apprentices the smith had.
Curiously as I entered the first Smith Shop I came to, I was notified of a quest
A Daily Crafting Quest Has been Created!
Hammer and Anvil!
Objective 1: Forge 10 Steel Daggers
Objective 2: Forge 10 Steel Swords
Objective 3: Forge 10 Steel Axe Heads
Objective 4: Forge 10 Steel Spear Heads
Rewards: 50 Experience, Increased Reputation with King's Landing Blacksmith's Guild, 30 Silver Stags, Increase to Blacksmith Crafting Skill Experience
Y/N
Well, I didn't know Daily Quests were a thing, but it was probably good that they were, I'd have had to pay for the use of a Forge in order to grind my Blacksmithing Skill high enough to forge the Dragon's Tooth Sword otherwise. Immediately the Smith appeared from the back of the shop.
"Good! Your here! You are the apprentice the Guild sent over, right? We have a work overflow with the tourney right now and I don't have time to fill the Goldcloak's Usual Order. Use the Smaller forge out back, there's a stack of ingots and other supplies all ready to go. Quickly now, idle hands are the Stranger's Playground you know!" He said as he hastily shuffled me off to the smaller of the forges in the shop, the one that was literally out in the alley behind the shop as opposed to the main one in the back room.
Shrugging I set about crafting. After the first 4 daggers I was notified that my Skill increased by one. It looks like having a proper forge gave a bonus to Skill experience gain, which when combined with my 10% Ironborn Bonus really accelerated my skill level gain. No wonder Lordsport had all those well-regarded smiths, it was the sort of thing that would make for rapid skill growth.
On the 9th Dagger I gained another level in Blacksmithing, which made was all to the good. I moved on to Spear heads next, followed by axe heads and then swords. I gained two more levels in Blacksmithing off the quest before I finished and also discovered on the 6th sword that once your level was high enough you automatically made more use of the materials you had per recipe, meaning that for every four Basic Steel Swords I crafted, I would get be able to craft one Basic Steel Sword with the leftover materials. I wondered if I could sell the extra two swords back to the blacksmith, or if I could keep one even, as my current sword was garbage stats wise and the ones I was making did more base damage.
As I walked up to the Blacksmith and presented him with the order to turn in the Quest, he said, "Hm, looks like there's two more than I needed. Tell you what, you can sell them back to me for an extra 50 stags each, or you can keep them. Which do you want to do?" He asked.
"I'll sell one to you and keep the other." I replied.
"Thinking you might get a better price elsewhere, eh? No matter, less silver I have to pay out to you then." He grinned.
Through Special Action a Skill has been created!
Barter Lv1 Exp 11%-A Skill for buying and selling, 5% chance of getting a discount per level
I immediately dismissed the quest completion notice without viewing it and used Observe on the blade I had kept.
Basic Steel Sword-DMG 14
A Basic Steel Longsword, crafted by you!
Much better than my worn piece of crap. I immediately equipped it before setting off to find a Blacksmith that would take my order to recolor the enamel on my armor. I checked in at several smithy's on the Street of Stell but all of them were dealing with work overflow for either the Goldcloaks or the Tourney, it seemed that the Master of Laws had been going on a hiring spree lately and the Gold Cloaks were being increased to provide better security with so many Nobles coming to the city for the Tourney. I couldn't help but wonder if Littlefinger was using this to generate profit somehow. . .who am I kidding of course he was.
I finally entered a Smithy that would take my order, as it happened it was run by a former apprentice to Tobho Mott. "My former master may get all the orders from well to do knights to do up their tourney armor, but I have yet to make a name enough for myself to justify getting orders from them of my own. I would be glad to recolor your armor if it meant getting a chance to get my work seen widely enough. However, with the white and gold color scheme I have to ask, how did you come by this armor? You didn't steal it from the Kingsguard I hope?" He asked.
"No, I did not. This armor was done for me for the tournament, but the damned smith got the color wrong. Blamed it on an apprentice he had tasked to color it. It should be Black and Gold, not white and gold." I replied, hoping that my Persuade skill would be able to carry this through, if not I'd have to trust my Luck would hold.
The Former Apprentice nodded and said, "Must have been a new apprentice, I have seen such mistakes happen before. It will cost you 2 Gold Dragons and I can have it done for you by tomorrow."
Persuade has leveled up!
For not having your story seen through, Your Luck has increased by 1!
Mentally doing a little jig, I fished out the two dragons and said, "Worth it. I will be back tomorrow."
The Smith bid me good day and I headed off into an alley to create a normal ID. . .it was time to see just how many stat points I could grind out the slow way now that my life was no longer in immediate jeopardy. Creating an Isntant Dungeon and selecting Normal I immediately set about jogging in circles. I wondered how far simple exercises like this would take me.
12 Hours and 5 points of STR, DEX, and VIT later I exited my dungeon and headed off towards the Myrishman's Head with the knowledge that simple push ups, running, and other calisthenics had hit a point of diminishing returns. It took me 2 hours to grind the last of those points and I had nowhere near enough patience to continue doing things that way. I would have to invest in a weight set from now on.
As I entered the Common Room I saw a face I Vaguely recognized from the TV show, though there were subtle differences between the actor and the actual person if one cared to look for them, but then I suppose that there would be, what with the show not following the books, still there were enough commonalities that I could easily tell who this was. He sat at one of the long trestle tables of the common room, drinking some sort of wine.
"This seat taken?" I asked.
"It is not, may I inquire as to why you would be asking to sit next to me? Not many of you Westerosi would care to sit nearby a foreigner such as myself." He replied.
"Not many Westerosi would recognize the Former First Sword of Braavos either. I on the other hand, know enough about the Free cities to know better. As a fellow swordsman, how could I do less?" I said.
"It seems that my reputation precedes me, yet you have me at something of a disadvantage, you obviously know who I am, but I cannot say the same of you." He prompted.
"I am Robb Pyke, Swordsman, Sellsword, Sailor, and general muscle for hire." I said Introducing myself and holding out my hand.
"And I, of course am Syrio Forel, but you already knew that." Replied the Braavosi, taking my arm in a firm grip.
"What brings you to King's Landing, Signore?" I asked, even though I already knew.
"I was contacted by the New Hand of the King about potential employment. What about yourself?" He replied.
"Well at first it was just a port call after my most recent stint of employment ended, then I heard about the Tourney and thought it might be a good way to drum up work." I said.
"Tourney's, little more than men playing at war. I would have thought you to understand this, having seen combat as you claim to." He replied.
"Yes, but unfortunately, the nobility place great stock in them as a display of martial talent, and if I want a job closer to home, then they are who I have to impress." I replied.
"So I see. Fortunately, I have a more secure offer of employment. Though I am surprised at your tone when speaking of the nobility, Pyke is one of those Surnames that nobles give their Natural Sons, no? Does this not make you a noble?" He asked.
"Not really, Bastards tend to occupy some sort of informal in-between class in Westeros, though my own people tend to place more stock in ability than the rest of Westeros, it is still a present stigma. Not that my own Lord Father had publicly acknowledged me or anything. I was raised by a Longship Captain under my father's command. It is a position not unlike that of a Knight in the rest of Westeros in terms of status and wealth, but it doesn't require a noble title or an ancestral seat, just ability and loyalty. It was a way for him to keep me nearby without having to make a public declaration that I was his. Not that it matters, I haven't seen him in years, hear he's become something of a Holy Man these days." I shrugged drawing upon the memories of the Man whose Body I had jacked.
"I see, well I certainly wish you well in the Tourney." Said Syrio.
"My Thanks. I would give you a word of caution, however. If you are to be working for the Hand, that means you'll inevitably get caught up in the Politicking of the Royal Court, even if only as a proxy. From what I hear it is a dangerous position to be in, and people have ended up dead due to politics. I'd keep that sword nearby at all times. Never know when things might turn deadly, the court is a nest of damned vipers." I replied, hoping that he'd heed my advice and NOT die this time around.
"Is it truly so dangerous?" He asked.
"The last hand of the King was poisoned to death if the rumors can be believed, that's why we have a new hand. Watch yourself." I replied.
"That is good to know, I will keep that in mind." Said Syrio Forel.
The rest of the evening meal passed in silence and I retired to my room, hoping I had altered the fate of at least one man tonight. . .