57 Chapter 37: S2-E13: Of Shadow and Gold 1/2

Chapter 36: Of Shadow and Gold

Editing credit to Rainsfere.

Early Evening – The Riverlands, Northern Border of the High Heart Forests – Shadow

The village elder grunted as he was slammed back against the wall within his hut, eyes wide in fear as the cloaked stranger had him pinned. "Please sir! I've told you all I know…I answered your questions!" He pleaded.

"Yes…and they were piss poor lies." The Shadow growled. His cloak hood covered most of his face, though the elder could see the scarred side along with a hateful glaring eye. One hand yanked at his large cap, revealing the elder's balding head and exposing the injury on the left side, the ear cut completely off. "Let me guess, mercenaries…or are you going to claim it was an accident like the last elder?"

"W-What do you mean?" The man nervously stammered only to get a fist at the stump of his missing ear. Howling from the pain, he sobbed before getting yanked to stand up straight.

"Because the last two elders I chatted with were also missing their left ear. So what excuse will it be this time, Bloody Mummers or some very freak accident."

The elder didn't reply, only glancing away fearfully.

"That aside, this village and the last two I passed through seem quite well off despite the war going on. You have no House soldiers or mercenaries protecting you. What is keeping you all safe?"

Catching his breath, the elder answered. "We…we're simply secluded. Too far for any lordship to guard us…yet out of the way of the sellswords."

Shadow didn't argue on that matter, moving onto the next clue. "So despite the fact these villages are so populated and supplied, I noticed one strange thing…no children. Where did they all run off?"

"I…no one has young. T-That is the simple truth." The man got a hard knee to his ribs, drawing a grunt. "W-We sent them away…we h-had to…"

"Why?" Shadow growled, the elder remaining silent. Suddenly he drew a wicked curved dagger from his hip, holding the gleaming blade up to the man's face. "Tell me where you sent them off or you'll be losing that other ear of yours!"

Clenching his eyes, the man trembled as cold steel touched the side of his head. "The Oracles! The Three Sisters! High Heart!" He spoke out desperately. "They offered to take them in. Watch and nurture them until the warring was over…when we could support them all without worry."

The assassin was silent, keeping that dagger up for a moment longer before pulling it away. "So you traded them off. Trusted them to these Oracles…" He'd throw the man down to the ground before sheathing his weapon. "I may be a cutthroat, but I'd never would sell off any kid to some strangers…no matter what they'd offer."

"Heh…a thug with morals…" The elder muttered, only to get a strong heel pressing down on his knee.

"Now these Oracles. Tell me more about them."

"I don't know where they come from…or what power they use…" The man muttered.

"Power? Like magic?" Shadow questioned. "Sounds like you and the other villagers are being conned."

"You doubt…and that will mean your doom. They are powerful, wise…and they care for us unlike our Lords who abandoned us just to protect themselves!" His tone showed bitterness as his facade was now gone. "They will make things right for us…so long as we pay the price for it."

Shadow smirked hearing this. "Always comes down to a price. At first it will seem fair, but these kinds of people…they will bleed you dry then toss you aside for someone fresh." Moving his boot off the elder, he'd move towards the door out. "Thanks for the talk elder. You've been very helpful."

Grunting, the man struggling to get up before hissing as the grasped the left side of his head. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" He repeated, drawing an odd look from the assassin. "You've made a mistake coming here stranger…like all the others. You'll not live to see the dawn."

Pausing at the doorway, Shadow smirked at the warning. "I've survived a Hell once old man. Those Oracles of yours better send their worst." Leaving the hut, he'd approached his horse to untie it and mount up. Villagers were watching him nervously, muttering as they saw their Elder hobbling out from his home to watch the black cloaked stranger ride off north into the woods.

Night Fall

Shadow had made sure to get far away from the village, not wanting to worry about the locals trying to mob him. It wasn't the first time he had angered a whole community and he didn't care in the end. He had gotten the information he had been looking for…even though it left him with more curious questions than answers. He carefully wrote what he had learned in his journal along with theories he had collected. Considering Zarin and his strict focus on detailed reports.

"Not like I can recommend any plans of removing these Seers." He muttered to himself as he finished his writing, putting the charcoal piece away along with the book. Prodding the campfire, Shadow paused as he had a gut feeling hit him…that honed instinct of being watched. For the moment he didn't move or even drift his gaze about. Considering beyond his campgrounds it was near pitch black, he had learned that hearing could be a more reliable sense in finding an unseen foe. The first chilling detail was the silence…the usual sounds of animals were simply just gone.

Then came the first noise, a cracking and creaking sound that reminded the assassin of a tree caught in a storm…or perhaps cracking bones. The issue was there was a lack of any wind in the air. Each crack sounded like a footstep, slow and heavy…coming from right behind him. "Bear…has to be a bear…" He muttered to himself, though the lack of snarls and growls proved otherwise. One hand drifted to his pack where his quiver and ironwood bow were in reach. Flexing his fingers before taking a breath, he'd lunge into action.

Tucking his body into a roll, he snagged both his weapon and arrows, drawing one barbed missile before nocking it. In one fluid movement he had tumbled onto a kneeling crouch, drawing the string back as he aimed. Adrenaline shut down any fear he felt at the moment, even as he stared down a tall lumbering figure in the darkness of the forest. The thing was nearly double his height being close to ten feet tall with the head crowned with an antlered head piece…or perhaps just a skull. The chest and shoulders seemed to have a crude wispy cloth covering it, with branches sticking from the shoulders, the largest of which was crowned with a pieced skull. Its legs were shaped like trees, thick at the foot while slimming down as it joined the hips which were covered by tattered leather material. The arms were unnaturally long as the long-clawed fingers hung low to the knees of the creature.

The Shadow's examination was fast, the assassin trying to calculate a weakness to this unnatural horror. A normal man would have hesitated in pure terror, but he knew such hesitation would be death for him. "Right for the heart." Muttering those words he let his arrow loose, the powerful bow and lethal arrow going right for the creature's chest. It slammed right where the heart would have been… 'would' being the key word as the antlered figure didn't even flinch. It's head turned downward at the arrow with what the assassin deemed as curiosity, as if never expecting anyone be foolish enough to try that.

"Ah fuck…"

With that low curse given the tree like monster raised its arms upward before giving an unearthly howl that echoed throughout the woods. The noise made the assassin yell in pain as he covered his ears, while his horse struggled madly where it was tied up, trying to bolt even as the knotted rope kept it from fleeing. When Shadow glanced up the creature was seemingly gone from where it had stood.

"Gods damn it all…" He cursed as his mind was rapidly thinking over what to do. Right now he was going against something his favored weapon couldn't even hurt and while he had a sword, he doubted it would do much better. "Freak would rip me to pieces…"

"Aye you were always shit using a sword."

"Shut up..." Shadow growled at the memory before hearing howls in the air, wolf howls. "What, does this thing have pets as well?!" Already he readied another arrow while his gaze rapidly looked around the surrounding woods. Already he could see quick movement about, furred forms slopping between the trees and brush. "Ugh for once I wish Marcus was here…" A pair of glowing yellow eyes showed at the edge of the camp clearing, Shadow agilely shooting an arrow into one. The beast didn't have enough life to even whimper with that barbed arrow deep in its skull.

"Come on you mutts!" The assassin called out before another beast rushed at him. Two arrows struck at a lunging wolf, wounds that normally force any beast from a continued attack, yet this one endured. He'd sidestep a bite at his leg before lashing out with his bow. Normally it would be foolish to strike with a bow shaft, but with the weapon being made of ironwood made it as powerful as a reinforced club. The satisfying crack of the beast's skull being split made the assassin grin. It had been difficult and costly to make the bow out of the exotic material, but to the assassin it was worth it.

However he had little time to enjoy his latest kill as two more wolves came, making him return to shooting. This time he focused on shooting for the head, since these beasts seemed driven to attack him relentlessly. One wolf was quickly dropped but the other just weaved around his next shot. It got in too close before he could bash with his bow as the beast bit down at his right leg. "Gah! Not…that one!" He cursed out. The sharp teeth didn't pierce the mix of tough leather and cloth, but the pressure of the bite strained on his old injury. The wolf yanked him off balance, falling to the ground roughly. Knowing the rest of the wolves would close in fast if he didn't get free, he reached for the short sword he kept close by, drawing it out before thrusting the blade right into the wolf's forehead.

"Stab if you can't hack it! There is a reason a blade has a pointy end!"

"I know…" Shadow muttered again remembering that annoying if insightful lesson. Letting those troublesome memories fuel his anger, he'd get up before hearing a whooshing sound in the air. Looking about he saw black fluttering movement in the trees followed by a near deafening amount of cawing. "Ahh fuck!" A murder of crows swarmed him, the assassin was quick to react as he tugged his cloak hood low and grasped the fabric to wrap around himself. The sturdy fabric lessened the countless pecks and claws, but it was going to become a death from a thousand cuts for him.

Dropping his bow, he'd make a crazy move as he'd tumbled through the campfire, the vicious crows breaking off their attack. Once more the cloak helped prevent being burned, though the garment and leather armor did get singed by the flames. Grabbing a long piece of burning wood during his roll, the glove mostly protecting him from the smoldering heat. As soon as he was back on his feet, the crows swarmed back at him though he was quick to swing about the burning log. He'd yell out fiercely as he stuck a few of the black birds down while the rest flew away from his improvised weapon. The murder of crows flew at the ground, dispersing into black smoke which from it stepped that looming tree like monster.

"Gods…now I am seeing everything…" Shadow muttered in shock as the creature seemed to drop onto one knee before slamming both clawed hands deep into the earth. The ground rumbled before it bulged and buckled as what looked like roots surged forward. Despite the surprise, years of experience made the assassin leap aside, only getting the brunt of that attack. The bursting roots threw him across the camp with it scattering his weapons and pack about as well.

Slamming to the ground, he coughed and panted as he rolled onto his back, shifting to sit up. He could hear the creature stomping slowly closer, no doubt ready to finish him off. Already his mind was rapidly thinking over what to do, trying to find a means to slip away or a weapon to at least hurt the monster. His gaze drifted to his pack, focusing on a black metal and leather-bound sphere that had rolled out onto the ground. "Still have Zarin's little gift." He muttered to himself. The alchemist had shared his most dangerous weapons with the rest of the Grims, a final resort for dire situations. Problem was reaching and getting it lit before that thing ripped him apart. "At least take it with me…" The creature neared him; one long arm raised up as it was ready to stab him with its long claws.

Suddenly a large gray furred form pounced onto the right side of the creature, interrupting it's attack. Shadow realized it was a wolf that had just saved him, a very large one considering it was near double the size of the ones that had just attacked him. The beast chewed and yanked at the creature's shoulder, keeping it distracted as the tree like monster thrashed about trying to shake the wolf off. Not hesitating with this opening, Shadow rushed for the discarded bomb along with snagging a smoldering splinter from the destroyed campfire.

Lighting the fuse, he'd pull his arm back ready to throw it just as the wolf was knocked off by the monster. The large wolf retreated back while the tree monster turned to look at the assassin who gave a wicked grin. With the fuse low, he'd threw it at the monster, making sure the arc was close to its head. Quickly he'd take cover behind a fallen tree and cover his ears before the bomb exploded, fire and shards of metal filling the air.

At last the monster gave a howling sound of pain, the blast having taken off its left arm at the elbow and cracking the antlered head as well. With its upper body set on fire; the creature flailed around with it's one good arm as it fled into the dark forest. Shadow peeked out of hiding as he watched the light from the flames become distant before disappearing. "Not dead…but at least gone…" He sighed before standing up. His was quite roughed up between his right leg aching from being chewed on and having being pecked at by those crows. "I'll live…been through much worse…" He muttered to himself as he looked around the camp. From the darkness the large wolf appeared, making him tense at first as the beast moved to the slain smaller canines. It sniffed the corpses, giving low whines before focusing on the charred arm of the monster which it growled at. At a closer look he realized this one was also a female canine.

"That is my prize." He spoke up, getting the wolf's attention. "Not sure why the hell you jumped in like that…then again you're a strange mutt." The wolf tilted it's head slightly as if puzzled, seeming to understand him to a degree. "Acting like Marcus's pet." Chuckling, he'd limp over to his pack before taking out some dried meat. "Not much but here…" He tossed the rations aside which the she-wolf approached, sniffed then began to eagerly eat up.

With his animal savior distracted, he'd examine the tree like arm curiously, even nudging it with a leg. "Well got some proof I guess. Marcus better have a spot on the wall to hang this." Despite being burned, the limb was quite sturdy when it picked it up along with being lighter than expected. "Well…think I know what has been killing people snooping around now. Guess that thing must be some servant to those Oracles." Really that monster reminded Shadow of the tales of the Old Gods servants, aspects of nature given physical form to defend the land. "If it can be hurt it can die. Still…this is going to complicate things…"

With the horse now calm, he'd work on getting his saddles repacked and his trophy hanging off the side. Right now he didn't want to linger here in case the tree monster wanted it's limb back or something worse came along. As he mounted up, he'd notice the large she-wolf sitting close by watching him intently. "No…don't you dare think about tagging along!" He growled at the wolf who barked back as if to argue. "Last thing I need is you eyeing me in my sleep. Bet you'll just chew me up when I least expect it…" There was a long pause as the wolf just sat there, tail wagging slightly about. With a sigh, Shadow bowed then shook his head. "This shit always happens to me…fine…but you lag behind I'm not looking for you!"

With that warning given, he'd kick his horse forward down the trail. By now the hints of the sun started to show as early morning neared. His eyes were heavy and body aching after what he had endured, but the assassin didn't slow in his ride. "Cheated death again brother…" Shadow chuckled to himself. "I won't pass on���not until I repay you in kind…" With renewed spite pushing aside exhaustion, the assassin continued on northward with his unwanted companion following close behind.

…

Late Morning – Crownlands, King's Landing, The Dragonpit – Tyrion Lannister

Bronn yawned loudly as he leaned back against a stone column that made up the large entry way of the Dragonpit,. A relic of the grander days of the Targaryens, the pit used to house their dragons during times of peace and as entertainment for the masses. Course that was around a hundred and fifty years ago, with the fully sized dragons having disappeared decades before that. Since then the pit had been left alone, the roof top had caved in, letting the elements into the 'area' part of the pit. Since then the pit had been sealed for safety reasons…until Tyrion had the cunning idea of repurposing it.

The sellsword watched the newest wave of refugees coming up the Street of the Sisters. It was a mix of Riverlanders and Crownlanders, people who favored the royal family or simply wanted safety here in the capital. Considering King's Landing had little space to house the few thousands that had arrived over the months. While Tywin wanted to improve the Lannister's image ever since Joffrey's attempt to execute Lord Stark, even he had no suitable plans to manage such people.

"Keep in an orderly line everyone! Get yourselves logged with the scribes before heading inside. Rations and supplies will then be given before the guards show you where your group can settle." Tyrion spoke out from the platform where the bookkeepers were set. The dwarf was dressed in usual finery in the red and gold colors of House Lannisters along with the pin of the Hand set on his chest. Since being appointed as Hand of the King Regent, Tywin had given the dwarf a quite difficult first task.

"The war will bring hundreds even thousands seeking safety here to the capital. Ensure they are properly managed so that we can rebuild our image to the people and help support our war efforts. Currently you have the best reputation thanks to your efforts hosting the late king's tournament, so put that to good use."

Giving parting instructions to the guard captain and head scribes, the dwarf left the stage to go rejoin Bronn. "Already been a month since this project began. If I remember correctly you net that this would end horribly."

The sellsword shrugged as the two began to walk down the Street of Sisters, making their way to the intersection of streets at the bottom of the hill. Close behind were a few Gold Cloaks following along, keeping watch over the dwarf. "Well we were half drunk at the time. You were nearly pulling your hair out trying to think of a place to shelter them and make them useful."

"Then with the rising dawn the shadow of the pit showed outside the window. Quite the inspiring moment." Tyrion chuckled. "While the dome has fallen apart, the inner chambers are suitable for people to live in. After all it was meant to house multiple dragons. Add in that it has wells for water and proper links to the sewers makes the place a luxury compared to camping outside the city or cramming themselves into Flea Bottom."

Bron nodded. "Aye you did mention all that before. Course getting food and supplies is costly with so many."

"Which I also prepared for." The dwarf countered back. "With the war going on we do need workers to meet demands. Fair pay be it with coin or rations. In fact clearing out the scrap iron and copper from the Pit's fallen dome has proven to be the most benefiting. Plenty of material to be melted down for reuse and keeping the unskilled busy."

"Heh idle hands make for thieving ones as they say." Bron jested. "Then again you've had me and the Gold Cloaks busy. Didn't mind the promotion with Janos being sent off to the Wall, more pay after all."

"Plus you're more qualified in my eyes. True the nobles in the court grumble, but you get results. Crime has gone down notably in all districts over the last month."

"Didn't hurt also knowing the right names to look out for…along who should be tossed into a cell." The sellsword smirked a bit. "At least I don't have to worry about a knife in the back with most of that lot getting the noose soon."

Tyrion nodded in agreement as they'd near the bottom of the hill. "Now all we have to worry about is how the King Regent will handle our three looming enemies."

"Personally your family is fucked in that matter unless your father can pull some very powerful strings."

"Knowing him he most likely is." As they were about to head eastward for the Red Keep. As they passed by the main street leading into Flea Bottom, the City Watch guarding the area seemed to be holding up a large cart from passing through. Riding on the cart was a hunched man wearing a ratty brown cloak with the hood covering his aged face. Sitting beside him was fair copper skinned woman, a Dorinish woman who wore tanned cloth wrap and soft leather clothing covering her slender form.

"I'm sorry but we need to hold the cart for inspection. Can't risk that you may be smuggling illegal goods." One guard sternly ordered.

The Dornish woman gave an annoyed frown hearing this. "This is ridiculous! We've traveled far just to bring supplies for the people of Flea Bottom."

At that point the old man waved his hand to calm the woman down, giving a low sigh. "Forgive her sir, the girl is just passionate for helping others. All we carry are dried food, clothes and the like. You can check for yourself, we have nothing to hide…but I don't wish to delay much longer."

"I'll decide that old man." The guard muttered as he'd pace around the cart, pulling the tarp covering the supplies back. Under it were small crates, baskets full of dry plants and bundles of clean fabrics. The guard did shift a few things aside before finding something stashed under a stack of cloth. "Ah what's this then!" He'd pull out a stack of books wrapped up in sturdy twine which he fiddled roughly with.

"Don't touch them like that!" The old man snapped out, a quite fearsome glare showing in his eyes. The remark had the other guard spear up slightly, but the aged driver calmed himself. "Just…those books are very delicate. They're my personal collection."

The guard chuckled at the remark. "Personal? Since when can a low born read?" Shaking his head as he held onto the books. "Plus even a light book isn't cheap, too much for a lover of the needy to afford. Perhaps you stole them…"

At that point Tyrion approached with his horse to speak up. "A bit rude to accuse an old man of such a thing. Also last I checked Westeros doesn't have laws making it illegal for even lowborn to own a book."

At first the guard was ready to snap back when he turned to face the dwarf, only to quickly recognize him and the pin he wore. "Ah my lord. Umm…you just can't be sure with these types."

Bronn scoffed at the remark. "Heh the elderly type?" He jested though he did gave a curious look to the old man, though said nothing more.

"Mind if I see one of those books?" Tyrion asked the guard, who nodded. "Let's see…The Dance of Dragons, A True Telling. Wonders Made by Man. True History. Quite a focus on history and lore from what I see." Flipping through one book, he'd then speak again. "Bindings seem different from Maesters methods too. How did you come by these?"

The old man nodded. "Yes...from a scribe friend of mine. It was a payment by my request."

"Curious…and may I ask how you learned to read as well?"

"My mother taught me some basics at a young age. She was a wise woman…always inspired me to learn about the world to better understand it."

"Wise words that I agree with." Moving closer he'd give a kind smile to the Dornish woman, offering the books to her. "And your assistant here? Not often we see a fair woman from Dorne after all."

The woman gave a charming chuckle. "You could say I'm…an adopted granddaughter to him." Gently she patted the old man's shoulder. "I would have been lost if it wasn't for him, so I strive to help his cause."

"A noble endeavor then. However I fear I've taken enough of your time." Looking to the guards he gestured to them. "Let them pass. The City Watch have better things then to pester honest small folk."

"As your command my lord." The guard replied, seeming annoyed yet obeying.

The old man had a faint smile on his face, nodding gratefully to Tyrion. "You are a good man Lord Tyrion…one with so much potential." The remark did draw a curious look from the dwarf though he didn't question it. "Perhaps we will meet again honorable hand. Sevens fortune to you." Grasping the reins he'd move the cart forward towards Flea Bottom, the last sight being the Dornish woman giving a smile and parting wave.

"Definitely was toward me." Bronn suddenly remarked, snapping Tyion from his thoughts.

"What?" He asked in confusion.

"The Dornish girl. She definitely had her eye on me." The sellsword smugly explained as they continued their route eastward for the Red keep.

The dwarf rolled his eyes at the claim. "You hardly spoke considering."

"Aye but while you were chatting with the old man she looked at me as if she recognized me." Bronn smirked at the thought. "Then again if we met before I'd never take hands off her."

"Ugh…and I thought I was the lecherous one." Tyrion jested, though before he could say more, he could see the crowds ahead parting as Gold Cloak riders were coming down the hill from the Keep. The leading guard stopped before the two before speaking.

"Lord Tyrion, your needed at the Red Keep for a foreign visitation."

A curious look crossed both Bron's and Tyrion's faces. "I don't remember any formal guests for today. After all, we have to ensure all visitors are safe for the King's audience…especially with him mostly recovered." The dwarf muttered the last words disdainfully.

Since the execution and Joffrey's injury, the boy had been mostly confined to his chambers much to his anger. It took a private scolding from Tywin to make the young ruler behave, making the dwarf wish he had witnessed that conversation. In those following months he was being tutored by handpicked specialists to improve the boy's knowledge and manners…with some notable results. Still considering everything Cersei had filled into his head along with Robert's neglect, there was only so much that could be done.

"King Joffrey wished to host an audience with this group. They claimed to be wealth group from Essos seeking to support his claim to the throne."

"Ah no doubt with plenty of coin and in return gracious favors." Bronn muttered as the group continued to move on, hurrying their mounts' pace.

"Whatever the case, father isn't going to be pleased with Joffrey working behind his back. If these are outsiders wishs to support us, we need to be careful of their intentions." Tyion replied back in agreement. "We can guess all we want, let's just see for ourselves!" The dwarf got his horse to the front of the group, the rest of his guards hurrying to keep up with their charge.

…

Flea Bottom, King's landing – Zarin and Alya

The cart turned down a side alley that looped around a large building, one of the few orphanages that graced the crowded capital. Slowing the horse down, Zarin sighed as he'd pull back his cloak hood to rub one hand along his thinning dark hair. "Luck is on our side once more. Lord Tyrion saved us a bribe." The alchemist chuckled. The cart soon stopped behind the orphanage; parking close to a large wooden doorway on the back of the building.

"I can say the dwarf's bodyguard was…familiar." Alya remarked as she'd hop off the cart, stretching her slender form after the long ride.

"Curious." Zarin muttered, though he was more focused on tugging the ratty cloak off along with the under shirt he had covering his faded red robes. He'd also make sure to grab the bundle of books that had been nearly taken away from him.

"It was the look in his eyes. Sharp and cunning, though lacking that cold killer edge…in fact they looked quite lazy looking." She'd smirk before shrugging, following her companion to the doorway.

"Observant as you are my student, your youthful does distract you…thankfully outside of our work." The old man jested before knocking at the door, rapping his knuckles in a pattern before stopping. After a short moment of waiting, there was a click as the door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman dressed in the white robes of a Septa, a priestess of the Faith of the Seven.

Seeing Zarin, she'd give a warm smile to the old man before bowing her head slightly. "Master Zarin, it's been far too long since you've visited."

"It has Nyla. My work has kept me busy, but I've come bringing plenty of gifts for the youths and needy." He'd give a short hug to the priestess before gesturing to the cart. "Food, clothes, fabric medicine and of course coin. Please ask for the men to help off load this…oh and take the marked crates below as well."

"Of course." She'd move aside to let them by, giving also a respectful bow to Alya.

The two walked down a hallway, the sound of children chatting and laughing being heard from the surrounding rooms. Stopping at one door, he'd look inside to show a room with a dozen desks with kids sitting at them while a young man in plain clothes paced around the room watching the kids. They all had parchment and charcoal, busy practicing writing the letters of the Common Tongue down…though a some added a few doodles to their work.

The young teacher looked, giving a short approving nod before noticing the visitors at the doorway. "Ah! Zarin, it's been a while since you've visited us."

Hearing his name had a few kids, mainly the oldest ones drop what they were doing to look at the old alchemist. "Uncle Zarin!' "Grandfather!" "The master is back!" Quickly half the class rushed him, drawing a surprised yelp as they all tackled him to the ground in a group hug.

"Gah! Children please!" He chuckled as he got up, giving kind pats on a few giggling kids heads. "Gods all of you have grown up so much since I last visited…" Walking over to the desks, he'd look over their writing to give a pleased grin. "…and your writing has improved so well. I'm sure many of you will become wonderful scribes."

"The teacher says I'll be able to be an apprentice like the others. Then I can work on your inventions!" One boy eagerly answered.

Alya chuckled as she decided to speak up. "Very noble of you. We need eager young minds to help with the cause after all." The compliment made the boy blush a bit, shyly glancing away from the fair Dornish woman.

"Now I do have a gift for you and all the other classes." Setting the bundle of books on a desk, the group was quick to check the names on the bindings.

"The Dance of Dragons! I've always wanted to hear that story!" One girl remarked excitedly.

"Is that the Wonders? I bet I can name them all before we even read it!" Another student boasted.

With the kids distracted, Zarin spoke to the teacher. "You've done very well educating them. A worthy effort." He complimented.

"Its nothing sir. They are an energetic bunch, but eager to learn. I'm proud to at least help them towards a better future for themselves."

The alchemist nodded in agreement. "Anyway I do have other matters to attend to. I'll be sure to come share a lesson with all the classes over the coming weeks. For now speak with Nyla and the other teachers to ensure the children get their gifts."

"Of course sir."

Zarin slipped out of the room, a few children noticing and giving quick goodbyes. "It surprises me how much control you have here master." Alya remarked. "Just how long have you built up this place?"

"Many decades, even before I joined the Alchemists Guild." He explained. "Basic education is nonexistent in this country. Only the rich and highborn have such benefits so I sought to change that. Let's just say it's been hard to do without drawing suspicion…this being more of an example of what could be done across the country."

"Heh, the Maesters be fuming and the nobles would be grumbling." Alya jested. "You know how much both enjoy their control."

"Yes…which we'll change in due time." The two had moved down to what seemed to be a simple closet with a cupboard within. Opening the doors, Zarin rubbed his hand along the inner rim of the frame to tug at a hidden latch. The back of the cupboard clicked as the hidden doorway was unlocked, a stone stairway leading down into a large cellar below. It was a large space which had a dozen men and a few women covered in deep red tunics mirroring Zarin's alchemist robes and fine working leathers in their experimenting. All around this underground hall were workstations dedicated to differing crafts. Alchemy, literature, woodcraft, metalcraft and weaving were just a few of the subjects these innovators were working on.

Alya looked around surprised, impressed at what she saw. "I've seen plenty of your hideaways and labs, but never thought you had this many students in one place." Already a few of the students stopped what they were doing to approach them, all giving respectful bows to their teacher and the female Grim.

"My disciples. It's been nearly a year since we last met and it seems your work has gone quite well."

One of the students stepped up to speak. "We have been working on your notes for quite a while, creating and improving on your designs over time as well."

A pleased gleam showed in the alchemist's eyes. "Good. You follow the tenants of my lessons well. Always look from a different perspective. Observe the facts with your own eyes. Then be creative on what you can change." With him sharing those wise words, he'd pace across the workspace to a large wooden and metal contraption. "Yes…this is perhaps the most valuable out all my invention designs."

The device was seven feet tall and between five to seven feet long, the length being that of a sliding rail with a sturdy wooden base and a shallow boxed frame. In the boxed frame was metal sheet with engravings set along the surface. At the end there was a slopped arched frame that had a large piece of parchment bound to it, with a hinge allowing the material to be lowered onto the metal sheet. At the middle of the device were two thick wooden pillars that supported what looked like a wine presser, mix of wood and metal drop hammer perfectly set between the strong posts.

Zarin traced his fingers along the letters, getting an idea on how well carved each one was. "Amazing. Such detailed craftsmanship." He muttered before looking to his disciples. "I see you took quite the inspiration from the Braavos wine press. The large frame does take up more space…but..." He'd move to grasp the crank, tugging it forward to the lower the press down. "…yes…it offers wider pressure downward. My drafts had to being too thin and light weighted..."

"The frame was by far the easiest part. We simply imported a press before modifying it." One of the disciplines explained. "The hardest part was the lettering. Took months to get the moldings correct and the right metals for smelting. Much of that we had to do here in the workshop."

"Impressive…" Zarin muttered as he paced around the machine. "A demonstration then."

The disciples nodded as one moved to a table beside the device with ink bottles, trays and soft leather pads with grips. "First we apply the ink with these pads. We tested different means of spreading the ink, pouring it proved messy and brushes were too course on the metal. Soft leather in the end proved the best choice." He'd tap the pads along the metal plate, taking a good minute to ensure every letter was coated. "Then the rest is simple. We set the bound parchment over the plate, slide under the press and let the pressure do the rest." Following his own directions, the disciple soon had the sturdy paper under the wide wooden press, twisting the crank sideways to tightly compress it all together. "It will take a few minutes for the ink to set in and dry enough."

Alya stepped up, examining the machine curiously. "So just how many pages can this thing even make and how quickly?" She questioned.

"If by the usual size of a book or tome, about four per press. The time-consuming part is ensuring the lettering on the plate is correct, unless you prefer garbled text." One disciple explained.