Chapter 8

You have slept in a Bed, HP and MP fully restored!

I awoke in accomidations across the street from the Myrishman's Head, no need to tempt fate and make it easy for a would be goon squad to find me after such a public threat last night. I immediately took a piss, this time in a wooden bucket provided, washed my face and hands, and ate food from my inventory rather than trust to food that might be suspect. Equipping my Armor and weapons, I set out for the tourney field. Today was the day that would either make or break me. I was hoping it was the former.

Astonishingly, I arrived at the tourney grounds without being detained by Gold Cloaks or harrassed by would be leg-breakers on the Lannister payroll. It seems that they trusted the skill of their Golden Boy. Probably a smart move, he was a full ten levels above me after all. Of course the plan was to wait until he was tired from wading through multiple combatants and then fight dirty. . .very dirty. If everything went to plan, I wouldn't have to take him in a straight fight at all. Of course, this being Westeros, it's probably a good idea to be prepared for every eventuality, so as I waited for Robert to get his fat ass up to the stands so the melee could begin, I quaffed a few "Bottles of Grog." in actuality they were a Sygfryd's Strength Enhancer, an Elixer of Thief's Friend, and a Vial of Devil's Luck respectively. Fortified thus I waited for a further 15 minutes in starting position until Robert finally deigned to climb the stands. . .escorted by Ned Stark. I couldn't help but grin at that, no doubt they were having a conversation about breastplate stretchers and why Robert couldn't participate.

Robert stood and then said, "Allright, we've waited long enough. Get on with it!"

Trumpets blared and the melee was on. Immediately I found myself beset by a pair of Knights in the Colors of Crakehall and Marbrand.

I grinned, "Well, I was wondering if you two would stick close to the Golden Boy or if you'd try to take me out early. Lyle Crakehall and Addam Marbrand, isn't it?" I asked.

"You'll not get near Jaime Lannister this day, Ironborn Scum." Grunted Marbrand.

"Well then lads, come on if you think you're hard enough." I grinned.

With that the battle was joined, the pair of Knights working in tandem with each other to try and take me out and me. . .not cooperating. Lyle Crakehall had a Boar Spear he was trying to use to keep me at reach for Addam Marbrand to exploit openings. I ducked and dodged around their attacks for awhile, always just out of reach except for two times when I was hit for -21 HP by Marbrand's more precise, but less powerful strikes. I had to get one or both of these two to make an opening or they'd chip away at me until I was done. "What's the Matter Strongboar? You'd think a man with your reputation wouldn't be having such a hard time pinning me down." I grinned with a use of Taunt. That did the trick, Crakehall's Temper got the better of him and he put too much into a lunge. I ducked aside and Power Struck the haft of his spear, shearing the head off, then capitalized with a Mordschlag to Addam Marbrand's knee, which forced him down to one knee before a Power Strike to his helm managed to gain a critical hit and also stun him. Marbrand slumped to the ground unconscious. Crakehall roared in with a sword that he had pulled from his belt, but bereft of his partner he wasn't the threat he otherwise would be. Marbrand's attacks had been precise, but not powerful, Crakehall's attacks were the opposite, and now enraged as he was, it was only a matter of time before he made a mistake. That mistake came as he came in with a backhanded strike that clipped me in the shoulder dealing -32 HP on a grazing strike, however I used the momentum imparted to spin myself around and come in with a slash of my own, which buckled the side of Crakehall's Frog Helm and rung his bell well enough that a follow up Mordschlag to his knee took him out of the fight. Together these two covered each other's weaknesses well enough that all I could do was dodge and wait for an opening. Seperately they were somewhat less than the sum of their parts, that's probably why the books always had them show up together. . .

After the distraction caused by the Westerlands pair was done, I waded into the melee. From beyond my current position I could See Thoros of Myr's Flaming Sword intimidate a Young Frey Knight into making a mistake that the Red priest capitalized on to knock the poor boy senseless. Somewhere off to the left Ser Boros Blount was tangling with. . .oh dear, that was Sandor Clegane, better head there or the Hound might steal one of my bonus objectives. . .

As I made my way towards their fight I was stopped by a Knight with a Chequy Rooster on his tabard and a Spear. "So this is the famous Ironborn I have heard so much about. My Prince sends his regards, unfortunately you cannot be allowed to take the Lannister, that was a job I was tasked with."

"Trust the Dornish to ruin somebody's good time with their vengeance-boner." I sighed as I began to circle what was obviously one of the Red Viper's Men in Disguise.

The man thrust out with his spear suddenly, and he almost caught me too. This guy was quick, and no doubt had poisoned his spearhead if he was here at Oberyn's behest to kill a Lannister. As the Gamer I might not die from the Poison, but it would still be rather bad for me. I couldn't afford to get even one scratch on me. The Dornishman faked high but swept low with his spear and I barely managed to parry in time. I tried to Power Strike the spear haft, but it seemed the Dornish were rather more experienced with spearmaking than the Westerlands, as this Spear seemed to have an Iron Core. That brought it down to a test of strength for a little while as my sword struggled against the Dornishman's Spear haft, but the infuriating man managed to duck into a tumbling summersault that overbalanced me with the sudden lack of pressure, sending me stumbling forwards. I felt more than saw the strike that hit me next, taking -31 HP from a glancing blow. Unfortunately I recieved a status effect for my Trouble. Poisoned: -12 HP every 6 seconds for two minutes.

Well that was 240 HP gone no matter what and it would have likely been far more if not for my posion resistance skill. I couldn't afford to keep getting hit by this guy. I had to end it before he could hit me with another strike and stack even more poison damage onto me. A Leaping Strike brought me into his guard, though he managed to just get his Spear Haft up in time to block. I didn't want to do this, but with that opening gone I had little choice but to apply a Meisterhau as he brought his spear around for a cut. The man's breastplate. . .crumpled around my cut, that's the only word I can think of to describe it. He slumped to the ground, not dead, I checked at least that much, but he probably had one or two broken ribs, which in a medieval setting like this means he may as well be dead.

Whatever, the man had tried to kill me with poison and only my Gamer's Body and Poison Resistance let me survive. I would not weep for him. I continued onwards to find both Sandor Clegane and Boros Blount locked in fierce combat and each bleeding from a dozen little wounds. Using Stealth I managed to sneak up on the Hound when he only had eyes for Blount and unleashed a Surprise Attack that swept Clegane's feet out from under him, allowing Blount and his rather massive morning star to deal the decisive blow that would Knock Clegane's Light out. Amazingly even after the absolutely massive amount of blunt force trauma to the head, the Hound was still trying to get to his feet before I hit him with a Power Strike to finally put him down. I don't think I would have managed that without Blount dealing the majority of the damage and wearing him down.

"That was Ignobly Done, striking from behind." Said Blount.

"Ironborn, Blount. To us, a win is a win." I replied

"Still, I must thank you, I was tiring quite quickly and do not think I would have been able to defeat him on my own if not for your timely interference." Replied Blount.

"Oh don't thank me Ser Boros, I Only intervened to have a shot at you myself." I grinned.

We faced off, but it was clear Ser Boros had been taking the worst of the fight with the Hound, he was clearly worn and it showed in his stance. Still I dare not underestimate him. He attempted a Power Strike which I managed to foil with an Interrupting Strike and counterattack with a Power Strike of my own. Ser Boros replied with Web of Steel which he could apparently pull of with a morning star, something I hadn't tried yet. I couldn't beat him from the front with this, so I tried to get around to his side doing a shoulder roll around and coming up with a Mordschlag aimed at his left knee, only to be hit for -40 HP with an interrupting strike for my trouble. He followed that up with a Power Strike which clipped my Pauldron for a whopping -122 HP and sent me ass over teakettle to the ground. I got up in time to meet a Power Strike with crossed axe and Sword and countered with a Power Strike of my own with both axe and sword at the same time. He managed to block the sword, but the axe hit him in the chest, and I pulled down to hook his Morning Star with the hook of my axe in a Disarming Strike. In the scuffle that ensued, he full on punched me twice in the face for -25 HP per strike before I managed to get the Morning Star away from him and hook his legs out from under him with Mordschalg I crossed my axe and sword under his chin just where helm met gorget.

"Sod this, I'm too tired and brusied to continue. Yield!" Called out Ser Boros as his pennant was struck from the display around the field and he made his way off the Melee Grounds.

Well that was one Bonus objective done and it only cost me 212 HP to do it. "Damn that Bastard hits hard. . ." I muttered massaging my aching Jaw.

I spotted my second Bonus Objective across the field having just cut down Lothor Brune, who was unconscious at his feet. Thoros looked a little worse for wear, but not much as he stumbled off in Search of more opponents. . .and found one in Jaime Lannister, who had just defeated a man in Stark Colors. The two met in combat across the field from me. I went after them, only to be confronted by a man in Mallister Colors who had just finished defeating an Arryn of Gulltown.

"Ironscum." He said.

"Ser Patrek, right? Listen I don't suppose you'd yield right now, only I made this promise to Ser Lannister over there that I would break him on the field last night and the Red Priest looks like he might be about to make me a liar. I really do not have time for the whole Righteous Mallister Knight fighting the Hated Ironborn bit right now." I sighed.

"No I'm afraid not. You'll just have to take your beating like the rest of you did." He replied.

"Fine, whatever, just let's get this over with before Thoros steals my thunder, right?" I replied rolling my eyes.

"Prepare yourself!" Said Ser Patrek as he flourished his sword in stunning display that was probably meant to make him seem more heroic.

I on the other hand used the time for more practical things, like kicking him in the codpiece with my metal shod foot in an unarmed version of a Power Strike, causing the steel there to dent inwards and, and this is a technical term, crease his wedding tackle. He immediately went cross eyed and slumped to the ground, but what did you expect from one of the fops that hangs around with Edmure Tully?

Once again I trundled off to fight my intended foe. This time under Stealth intending to pull on Thoros of Myr what I had earlier pulled on Sandor Clegane. Unfortunately it seemed Thoros' Mystic Training alerted him to my presence a half a second before I sprung out with a Surprise Attack his attention diverted from Ser Jaime, the Lannister took the time to bash Thoros in the helmet with the Pommel of his sword, staggering the Red Priest Backwards into my Surprise Attack. The one two punch was followed up on by me using a Finishing Strike on the Red priest, which sent him to the ground as he started to rise, and a curb stomp by my booted foot dealt the coup de grace that sent him into Blissful Unconsciousness.

"Well, if it isn't the Squid from the feast. It looks like we make a rather good team. Are you sure I can't persuade you to call off this nonsense?" Asked Ser Jaime, gesturing to Thoros of Myr.

"Sorry, Lannister, but I promised you a beating. I keep my promises." I replied.

"A Principled Sellsword. Truly it is a shame that I'll have to snuff out a creature so rare, but I have a debt to pay you from last night. And A Lannister Always pays his debts." He chuckled.

Time seemed to slow down for just an instant as we both took up guards. Jaime's stance was flawless, not an opening to be found. I would have to get him to make one of his own accord. I shifted my stance slightly, just enough to create a perceived opening that was actually a trap. I would need something extra to get him to take it though.

"Oh come on Lannister, don't just sit there. . .I mean I know all you Kingsguard Knights are sword swallowers, but that's no excuse to not move a little." I said with Taunt

That provoked a response alright, Anger filled his eyes and he lashed out at the first opening he saw, which was my trap. As he came in with a Mordschlag aiming right at the eye hole in my faceguard with his crossguard, I bent to the Side and hit him with Meisterhau he fell to the ground from the force of the impact and his Gilded Helm was sent flying, knocked clean off from the Powerful Blow.

Remarkably my strongest skill wasn't enough to finish him, not even after an extended exchange with Thoros of Myr, which I knew for a fact he would have wound up losing since in canon, Thoros took the whole damned Melee. No, Jaime fucking Lannister stood back up and had the Bloody Gall to look confused, as if he couldn't fathom that someone could land a clean hit on him.

"What was that? My attack was timed perfectly with your opening, I should have finished you." He said confused.

"Guess I'm just better than you, Lannister." I Replied with a Taunt targeting his arrogance.

Once again he came in with a Potential Killshot, once again he was too angry to properly think his attack through, once again I hit him with Meisterhau.

Once more he got up.

"Keep that Temper in Check, Lannister. I thought you were the Master Swordsman? Should I tell everybody you're not?" I Taunted.

This time Jaime didn't take the bait. "I see what you're doing now, you think you're clever, getting me to fall for false openings, angering me so I don't notice. Well done, Squid. I'm afraid though that this is the part where it all goes wrong for you." Smirked Jaime.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for that you'd let me stick to one strategy. Oh well, plan B." I sighed as I pulled out a Blue Vial of Tyfarro's Bottled Lightning.

"Oh what's that? Don't tell me you're going to get drunk at me now?" Sneered Jaime Lannister.

"Keep your eye on the Birdie." I said as I chucked the bottle at his feet.

The blast hit him dead on and he was shocked for a few precious moments. Enough for me to come in with a Leaping Strike

"Smile you son of a Bitch!" I growled as I hit him with the attack full on, Bowling him to the ground. I placed my sword at his neck.

"Alchemy? You Cheated!" He growled.

"Thoros used a sword coated in Wildfire, how is this functionally any different?" I asked.

Jaime just growled and picked up a handful of sand, tossing it into my face before hitting me with Four powerful and precise strikes, dealing -150 HP apiece. He Followed that flurry up with a Mordschlag that i felt in my bones with a whopping -250 HP worth of damage. I had lost control of this fight. I had to get it back or else he'd kill me. Two more Strikes slipped past my Guard for -120 HP apiece, but I managed to activate Web of Steel in time to halt the Onslaught before he did any more damage.

Fortunately for me it seemed that with his rage spent, he was now running on fumes. I doubt any opponent had ever lasted this long against him, combined with the extended exchange between him and Thoros before that, he was on the verge of exhaustion. It looked like, by sheer dint of luck and sheer bloody mindedness, I managed to outlast the Kingslayer. Thank you Gamer's Body for not letting me feel the effects of fatigue.

I counterattacked with a series of Power Strikes Jaime Lannister blocked the first 3, but the fourth smashed aside his guard and the Meisterhau I finished the Combo with knocked what little energy he had left right out of him. He hurtled to the ground where my Steel Plated Foot sent him into blissful unconsciousness with a curbstomp.

I stood over the battered form of Jaime Lannister as the The last two other opponents on the field looked on.

"Alright, come on! Who wants some?" I growled out.

Pointing to the one on the left, a Caron Knight judging by the tabbard, I said, "You, you want a little?"

He looked at me, then at the other guy, a Knight in the Livery of House Hightower before I walked up to him. He was clearly terrified of this bloody monstrosity that had just beaten Jaime Fucking Lannister into unconsciousness. "You know, Your shoelace is untied." I said. Foolishly the Caron Knight looked down only to be met by an uppercut by my mailed fist to his face. Sending him unconscious to the ground.

"What about you? You want some?" I asked.

"Yield!" Squeaked out the Hightower Knight, "By the Seven I Yield!"

Finally I was on the field alone, the victor of the melee.

I vaguely recall applause and Robert Baratheon talking about a display of Martial Valor and other such nonsense, but I was just too tired to be arsed about all that.

I dimly recall my quest completing and me leveling up. . .twice. Gaining Reputation with all houses except Lannister, who I lost more reputation than I won with. The Big takeaway was the pair of skillbooks I recieved for Completing Bonus Objectives. Ser Boros Blount had one for Blunt Weapons Mastery and Thoros of Myr had something called Power and the Inner Voice: A Primer on Martial Diviniation which apparently was going to let me learn to go all Jedi Battle precog. That was. . .actually huge for Westeros.

Of course the 20,000 Dragons didn't hurt either.

Some time Later, after I'd had a chance to eat, drink, and rest. I made my way to the first round of the joust. A number of competitors who had entered the joust were sadly incapable of Riding out to tilt this round due to injuries sustained in the melee. It seemed my presence had made things more vicious than in canon. Thus far, Stannis had beaten Renly, Bronze Yohn Royce had defeated Jory Cassel of Winterfell, Gregor Clegane had ridden absolutely Roughshod over Ser Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard, Lord Beric Dondarrion had jousted broken three lances against Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard and was awarded a draw, and Ser Loras Tyrell had defeated Lord Bryce Caron. I had managed to place bets using my newly won wealth on all the victors and was fairly cleaning up.

It was at this point I was approached by an interesting character. Tyrion Lannister actually engaged me in conversation.

"So, you must be the Ironborn Reaver that defeated my Brother in the Melee and left him to bruised to tilt. They say you're some sort of Pirate King, that you're the Secret Legitimate Heir of Balon Greyjoy, hidden away these many years and trained in secret to one day avenge his failed rebellion. All nonsense I'm sure. My Sister is Certainly furious with you though, and anyone who infuriates my Sweet Sister so is someone I want to meet." He grinned.

"Allow me to debunk those rumors, then my Lord of Lannister. I am no Pirate King, merely a sellsword, one of many. I am not the Heir to Balon Greyjoy, but I am the Bastard Son of his Brother Aeron, one of the last he fathered before finding religion, or so I'm told. I WAS trained in secret, but only to spare my Father the Public Embarrasment of Acknowledging a Bastard so soon after joining the Drowned Men, that's our local clergy in the Isles. Finally the only thing I avenged here today was my own damned self, your Brother deigned to insult my ability at the Feast Last night and I promised him I would break him on the melee grounds. I keep my promises. Well, what do you think Imp, was I worth meeting?" I chuckled.

"I do believe so. A Principled Sellsword is a rare thing indeed. I would step carefully though were I you. My sister is infuriated with you, and those who she is mad at often have ways of meeting misfortune. Just thought you might like to know that. Well, I'm off to go find a good tavern. Never to early to start drinking you know." He replied with a Wink, before sauntering off.

"There goes the god of Tits and Wine." I chuckled as he left.

The remainder of the day was dull in comparison to the events of the preceeding morning and afternoon, save for one thing.

As I arrived back in my room at the Myrishman's Head, I found a letter addresed to me on the bed.

-Dear Master Pyke

I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience regarding potential employment. Show this letter to the Guards at the Red keep and they should let you in.

-Lord Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships, Lord Paramount of the Narrow Sea.

"Well. . .that's certaintly something." I said to myself.