The Voyage of Gerion Lannister

[Pontifex Maximus]

Gerion was everything his older Lord brother Tywin was not - reckless, quick to smile, adventurous, and with seemingly little to no purpose. Gerion had spent hours in the yard, hours in the whore houses, and hours in deep study with the Maester of Casterly Rock. Gerion fancied himself a true knight, a sword that would cause his enemies to fear him. As he would likely remain landless, he aimed to improve his one on one martial prowess until he was the first sword of the Westerlands. What better way to do that than to claim the ancestral sword of his House, lost in the foolish journey Tommen II had taken all those years ago when he went to plunder the Doomed Freehold of Valyria. His brothers had all called him mad, Tywin had even forbidden him to go. But Gerion needed an adventure, his bones ached to cover himself in glory and achieve feats that others considered impossible.

In the dead of night he donned black garments, cloaks to hide his brilliant leather armor (RP only) emblazoned with the Roaring Lion of Lannister. His golden hair tumbled around his face, and a short crop of facial hair studded his chin. He was a young man in his prime, and perhaps foolhardiness of youth. If I can't find Brightroar, then nobody can he thought to himself. Perhaps the sword was at the bottom of the ocean, or buried beneath some sort of ash, or taken and being wielded by one unworthy of the blade. He would know the truth of it.

In the dead of night and in the confusion of the tourney in Lannisport, Gerion sought a swift ship and attempted to get the captain to set course for Essos, to search for the lost heritage of his house.

[Poach]

[OOC: Embarking on this you should understand there's a very high chance that Gerion won't ever return, as in I intend to require most rolls once you reach Valyria itself scoring 15+ to ensure survival. Lore doesn't explain exactly why people disappear in the ruins of Valyria (I know the TV show has a plague there but that didn't seem to stop Jorah continuing to gallivant across Essos...) but they do. You're going to need several very lucky rolls. So, on the assumption that you're asking for a port in Essos and not Valyria itself...]

Gerion is easily able to locate ships going to Essos and commands the wealth to book passage on one going to Volantis, the closest port to the Valyrian peninsula. Booking a cabin for the night to remain away from the Rock, Gerion would awake to the commotion of the ship slipping its moors and heading out of the docks of Lannisport, before making a southerly course to round the arm of Dorne and cross the Narrow Sea.

A brief stop in Lys for supplies and minor trade allows Gerion to stretch his legs a bit before the ship once again begins to sail east, following the southern coastline of Essos until, at last, the ship comes alongside in the city of Volantis.

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[Pontifex Maximus]

Gerion strained to remember all he had read of the free cities. The blood of old Valyria still ran in the veins of many Lyseni. Once the ship stopped to resupply, Gerion left the company of the captain and crew and struck out on the streets, alone. He wore a sword at his side and some simple leather armor. He was unsure of his next steps. Seek out a scholar, perhaps? Someone wise in the history of the old Freehold? It seemed the wisest course of action.

ooc: I understand. Honestly I just need to do something with him and even so, three living Lannisters is probably all I would have time to dedicate too anyway. Gerion seems a bit of a spare part to me and I'm not unwilling to lose him having an adventure.

[Poach]

[OOC: So far so good, rolled a 15!]

Gerion's wanderings found himself within a seafarer's guild along the docks: it would seem like a reasonable start to his quest to see what the men who circumnavigated Valyria's waters routinely had to say on the matter.

"The sea smokes," said one man as Gerion made his enquiries, "A treacherous haze that swallows ships whole, dragging them beneath the waves. Saw it happen once: was working a slave convoy and one of the escort ships sailed too close to Valyria. The sea just swallowed her whole. We tacked out to sea and got to Slaver's Bay three days late, but none of us wanted to risk the sea swallowing us, too."

"Whenever the wind blows, a dense mist descends," said another "I've seen it from afar. Thick and swirling, I'd doubt if you could see your own hand in front of your face in it. People disappear in it."

"The old roads they built still exist, some people still use them." said another, "Taking an awful risk straying too close to Valyria itself, though. Plenty over-eager merchants looking to make good time, not giving the place a wide enough berth, never seen again."

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[Pontifex Maximus]

Chasms opening up in the sea seemed treacherous indeed. As did blinding fog. "How does one navigate such a waste?" he asked, almost rhetorically. "And what would it take to convince someone to guide me?"

The foolish Lannister King who had lost the sword had sailed in, but perhaps he had made landing and perished in some other way. It certainly seemed safer to land somewhere within a day's march or two and avoid the oceans all together if possible. But on the other hand, what new dangers could await on the shore...

[Poach]

A pin could be heard drop at that question. Many in the group he'd been conversing with laughed, or shook their heads, or simply returned to staring at their mug of ale. Gerion would eventually leave but a man stopped him in the street outside.

"Rowboats don't sink." said the man, not bothering to start with an introduction or greeting, "Don't know why but I've seen them abandoned, floating in the mists, even where ships have been swallowed. I'm sailing around Valyria in two days, I'll sell you a rowing boat and you can row yourself into Valyria if you want, it's your death wish, but the rowboat will stop you being consumed by the sea at least."

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[Pontifex Maximus]

As if struck by a sudden revelation, Gerion's eyes brightened and he laughed. "This mist! It must be a toxic vapor!" He struck the table with his closed fist in triumph. "If the boat isn't swallowed, then the rowboats are empty? Clearly something does the job of vanishing the rowers, why not this cloud if not the typhoons and whirlpools? Approach by sea is certain death it seems." He looked crestfallen. He realized that if his hypothesis was correct he may very well never find Brightroar. It might be at the bottom of the sea - but that was always a possibility. It could also be on the shore in a rotting rowboat. "I will take you up on your offer, but set me ashore just outside the ruin. I shall find provisions and proceed overland, along the coast." It seemed the best place to start at least

[Trot]

As if struck by a sudden revelation, Gerion's eyes brightened and he laughed. "This mist! It must be a toxic vapor!" He struck the table with his closed fist in triumph. "If the boat isn't swallowed, then the rowboats are empty? Clearly something does the job of vanishing the rowers, why not this cloud if not the typhoons and whirlpools? Approach by sea is certain death it seems." He looked crestfallen. He realized that if his hypothesis was correct he may very well never find Brightroar. It might be at the bottom of the sea - but that was always a possibility. It could also be on the shore in a rotting rowboat. "I will take you up on your offer, but set me ashore just outside the ruin. I shall find provisions and proceed overland, along the coast." It seemed the best place to start at least

"Aye I could get you close, but you would still have quite a distance to travel a foot, and there is no guarantee it will be safe. Are you sure you want that my Lord?" The Captain had to ask. The man was a Lannister and he didn't want trouble next time he made landfall in Lannisport. If this man wanted to go on a suicide mission he wouldn't stop him, but he had to ask.

[Trot]

ooc I can pick this back up if you want.

[Pontifex Maximus]

ooc: please do

[Pontifex Maximus]

Gerion nodded. "There are perils everywhere in the world, death could take a man at any moment." Gerion mused. "If I die at least it will be something to sing of. So many men die without havign achieved anything great." He drained his glass. "We leave on the morrow then, at first light."

[Trot]

Soon first light was here and the captain was standing on deck wait for Gerion to arrive. There was a small dingy with a crew of rowers set to take him ashore. "Well my Lord this here is the last town of any decent size you will see until you make it past Valyria. You'll be able to stock up on food and supplies here, and maybe find a couple of men to accompany you on your journey." There were always a few fools in the taverns who would be lured by the promise of gold and glory. "My men will take you ashore, and bring the dingy back. I wish you luck my Lord win a fortune and glory for yourself." With that the captain heads back to the helm positive this would be the last he saw of this fool who thought he could make it to Valyria.

Soon the dingy would be cresting the waves and approaching a moderately sized town. It was nowhere near the size of the great cities of Westeros, and the great cites of Essos dwarfed it by far, but it was a good enough sized town that strangers weren't entirely unheard of. The town hosted about half a dozen inns a large town square for business and dozens of different side streets to get lost in. Soon Gerion would be left standing alone on a small dock in a foreign land his journey only now about truly begin.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Well this was a desolate place indeed, as deserted, dusty and perhaps dangerous as any frontier settlement on the borders of the doom. The waters of the sea seemed ominously still and dark. How many men had they swallowed? He could not say. He was glad to have steered clear of them. Vicious storms of light seemed to play upon the red clouds in the distance. He would need to find a good cloak with a hood, and plenty of fresh water, he thought. There may not be much untainted water when he crossed into the doom. Gerion set off towards the storehouses and marchant's quarters. Perhaps he could find a mule or a camel to carry supplies as well, maybe a guide. He has some coin to him, and besides, a Lannister always pays his debts.

He just hoped someone in this forsaken town spoke the common tongue. He knew precious little bastard Valyrian. He entered the merchant's market and walked around aimlessly. He spotted many stalls that seemed to be selling supplies. These were probably for the long caravan journeys that might originate from this small port and roam northwards or eastwards. He could not say for certain. He walked to a stall and ventured in the common tongue. "You there, how much for that mule?" he pointed to the creature munching dried grass behind the stall. It looked a stout enough creature.

[Trot]

The mans looks at him an says in broken common, "This mule is good mile can carry far away." He pauses before continuing his pitch. "It will travel miles with no break and rarely need stop for rest. For a mere 7,500 of you Westerosi dragons this mule will be yours."

The animal looked as though it was probably worth less than the man was saying, It seemed he was trying to up sale to a rich foreigner who would not have a good handle on the local prices.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Gerion gave a laugh. "That animal is closer to collapsing than bearing any manner of supplies." but his smile soon gave way to a crooked smirk. This was a shrewd businessman, and what choice did he have? He needed some beast of burden to carry his supplies. "Sold." he announced. It would be an easy task now of having the beast carry water and dried foodstuffs. Though he was laothe to depart with such a sum from his purse, even before he had engaged a guide.

He patted his new donkey on the neck "I shall name you Tywin, after my lord brother!" he said with a laugh, renewing his smile. he tried to imagine the reaction he would get from his much older brother if he returned bearing Brightroar. It almost, alone, made this perilous journey worth it. He entered a nearby tavern in order to scope out a guide.

[Trot]

As he enters the tavern he sees five men sitting at the scattered tables. Serving maids in low cut gowns move around the common room acting busy and trying to keep busy even though they were not needed with so few patrons. Soon a Tavren keep walks up he was a big man with a booming voice, "Ah a Westrosi Lord we get few of those here what can I get for you?"

[Pontifex Maximus]

"An ale for myself, and an ale for every man in the tavern!" he said, hoping to raise some fanfare. It was cheap enough to buy some drinks.

[Trot]

There was some half hearted cheering as the tavern keeper accepted the Lannister coin. One man stood out however in studying Gerrion from his table.

[Pontifex Maximus]

Gerion moved to intorduce himself. "Good day, my man." he said "Enjoying the ale?" He took a sip himself, it was of poor quality, but what else could be found so close to the ends of the earth?

[Trot]

The man takes a swig of the Ale and starts in a gruff Westrosi accent, "I like to know the name of the man who's buying my drinks."