"I thought to ride for Dreadfort, slip through the walls at night. Easier work than the Red Keep. I could put a blade in the bastard's heart. But what would it change? Another Bolton would rise before the blood cooled."
"Hah…" Lord Wyman tried to chuckle for a moment, but once he noticed absolute seriousness on Wylis's face, he stopped. Wylis, the madman, actually planned to do it. "A-Aye… Agreed. Another would take his place."
Wylis continued, avoiding using words like my lord entirely. "That is why I seek your aid. I don't ask for an army or soldiers, I just hope you can spread the word of Bolton's deed. Anything that would keep him on the edge of his seat. It will grant me the time I need to set my house in order and prepare myself for him."
"Prepare, you say? What do you plan to do?"
"That is where I truly need your help. You saw it yourself, the town is near ruin after so many years left to rot." He gave the words a pointed edge. "I need supplies and men. Carpenters, smiths, builders, and above all, sailors to crew a few ships."
"Ships?"
That caught Wyman's undivided attention. He was the king of trade in the entire North, after all.
"Aye, I mean to try my hand at trade. Nothing near what you command, but a few ships could give this town a bit of life again. His Grace gave me a cog, though I've no men to sail her. I'd see about renting ships, and if fortune allows, buying them with their crews outright."
Wyman Manderly sat straight then, gave a glance to his son before focusing on Wylis. "What sort of ships do you ask for? Know that keeping them afloat and ready will drain both purse and harbor."
"Mostly cogs, with one carrack among them. I've still the full purse from Harrenhal, and King Robert's sworn me some aid. Ramsgate's near lifeless, truth be told. Little grows here, save for timber and a few trifles. Trade is the only thing that'll keep my lands alive." Wylis said, and directly asked, "How much do they cost? Cogs and carracks?"
"You'd buy ships from me? Bah, Wylis, you needn't ask. I'll let you have them at cost. My purse will not grow fat from the man who saved my life." Lord Wyman relaxed suddenly. "The cost, though, depends on what sails you fancy. A cog goes from a hundred up to five hundred, a sturdy carrack with three masts from a thousand to seven, and if you want four masts, you pay whatever madness the builder demands. As for the one I sailed in, gods bless her old timbers, with all her repairs she'd fetch no less than twenty-eight thousand."
Brandon sat with his jaw hanging. It was an insane amount of money. And when thinking about the entire Manderly fleet, it was outrageous.
Lord Wyman and his son silently focused on Wylis' face, trying to read him, see his shock. Buying ships was no small matter, especially for a small, newly founded house like Wylis'. They weren't mocking him; they'd never. But they did hope to see some level of shock.
"Hmm," Wylis mumbled something under his breath. "In that case, I'd like to buy eight large cogs and two carracks, three-masted."
"..."
The tables had turned. Lord Wyman and his son stared at the giant warrior's face like he'd demanded their livers. Buying that many ships, while not impossible, was rare. Most traders started with a single ship and then expanded.
"Ah, that's still just close to fifteen thousand gold dragons," Wylis exclaimed all of a sudden. "Let it be three carracks then. Only, I'll count on you to help me find the sailors and their captains."
"..."
"That many ships, you say? Ho ho, quite the appetite." Lord Wyman rubbed his chin. "I don't doubt your purse is deep enough, my friend, but I do hope your mind's as steady as your coin. No sense in letting good timber rot at the docks. I'll have a word with my Master of Ships. Some hulls should be near ready, and the rest I'll see found for you."
"I also wish to rent ten more cogs."
"..."
Now that was fucking excessive. Sure, it was nothing for Manderly's trade fleet, heck, they had more war galleys than what Wylis was asking. But still, it was not insignificant. Moreover, the real question was what Wylis wanted to use them for.
Wyman nodded eventually, his gaze subtly different. "I must speak with my Master of Ships on the matter, my lord. Now, should you buy a vessel outright, I'll see the price is honest and stout as oak. But hired hulls are another stew entirely, for they don't all fly my merman. Still, rented ships do come with their own crews, which spares you the trouble of finding sailors yourself."
My lord? What changed? Coin?
"If I may, what do you plan to trade with? My Lord?" Wendel Manderly asked.
"That is a trade secret. But you'll be the first to know it." Wylis smiled, a smile that hid a goldmine. "Come now, my Lord. You must be weary. The maids will take you to your room."
Lord Wyman stood up, seemingly deep in thought. He just shook Wylis' hand and followed behind the maids with his son, vanishing into the castle. It was unknown if he was worried about Wylis disrupting White Harbor, or if it was some other matter.
Back in the room, Wylis loosened up, slightly annoyed by the unwarranted tug of war with the power dynamics bullshit. He hated politics, and this was the type of politics he hated most. Wyman wasn't like other Northern lords. Wyman's roots were southern, and so was his mindset.
"Gods be good, Wylis, what the fuck are you going to do with that many ships? Have you even got that much coin?" Brandon slid over beside Wylis. "And good job with that 'my lord' horseshit. It was getting on my nerves."
"Annoyed me too. But all's well now, I snatched his land with Robert's decree. Even if he cared nothing for Ramsgate, he lost it all the same. As for gold, I have more than plenty, and the ships." He couldn't stop smiling, thinking about the future. "I need that many because the opportunity will be short. Eventually, others will catch on, but for a year or two, we're going to make gold hand over fist."
"What is it?"
"That's a secret, Brandon."
"You don't trust me?"
"No."
"..."
Not after you drain a whole barrel in the tavern," Wylis clarified and stood up. "Anyway, I have an offer for you. What do you think about becoming my fleet admiral?"
"Sure, I'll do that, but what's admiral?"
Ting!
Oh? Triggered something?
[New Chain Quest(1/10) - Tyrant of the Seas
Description - A Tyrant's reach has no limit. Gather a fleet of 10 ships with full crew.
Reward - Naval Command Skill (Tier 1)]
Ting!
[New Chain Quest(1/15) - Tyrant of the Lands
Description - A Tyrant's reach has no limit. Gather a permanent standing army of 50 armed men.
Reward - Army Command Skill (Tier 1)]
What's a chain quest? It'll keep repeating and getting bigger? And that reward, it's shit.
Quickly, he summoned the Tyrant's Squire and scrolled to the shop. He had seen Naval Command Skill and Army Command Skill before; they cost five months each.
There, it's nothing specia—
That was when he noticed a tiny, really tiny plus mark at the top-left corner of the skill's name. He had missed it because his eyes always focused on the price on the right. Curious, he tapped on it with his thoughts.
[Naval Command Skill (Tier 1) - 5 Months
Naval Command Skill (Tier 2) - 1 Year
Naval Command Skill (Tier 3) - 2 Years
Naval Command Skill (Tier 4) - 4 Years
Naval Command Skill (Tier 5) - 8 Years
Naval Command Skill (Tier 6) - 16 Years
Naval Command Skill (Tier 7) - 32 Years
Naval Command Skill (Tier 8) - 64 Years
Naval Command Skill (Tier 9) - 128 Years
Naval Command Skill (Tier 10) - 256 Years]
W-What the fuck is this! O-Over two hundred… what the…
He quickly repeated the Army Command Skill, and it went all the way up to level 15, at which the price was 291 years. It seemed to have a different cost multiplier, close to 1.5 instead of 2. But still, the fact that the two skills were being offered to him was insane. One look and he knew what they were about. But the question was, how good were they that the highest tier cost that much?
Wait a second! If the multiplier is two per tier at the very least, then those ten ships will need to increase to over five thousand ships to reach the highest tier reward. And the army… fuck, close to a million soldiers? What am I to do with that many men?
He felt shaken just imagining himself at that point in the future. It would take years for sure, but… if he were to bring Essos into the equation, the numbers weren't impossible. Besides, he didn't need to aim for the very top; even if he were to reach the middle, he'd be…
An absolute Tyrant!
Smack!
"Ah!" Wylis jolted awake from the stupor and found Brandon preparing a second smack. He stopped him quickly.
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing, was pondering something."
"Cunts and tits?"
"And fine wine," Wylis added with a chuckle, still gathering his thoughts. "Let's go, I promised someone Brennard's head."
It was clear, he had underestimated just how big Tyrant's Squire's appetite was.
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