Diskovering Westeros (ASOIAF/KCD)

[angbhong]

"Are you yanking my pizzle!?" exclaimed Hans as both he and Henry rode on horseback trailing along a rocky road. Things were supposed to be simple, deliver a message to Ser Otto Von Bergow, maybe woo a tavern wench or two, and that was that. Now they were lost. In the desert. Which was impossible considering they were in fucking Bohemia. Did they make a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in the other side of the world?

"The fuck are you blaming me for?" Henry defended himself, "I wasn't the navigator. It was Oats."

"Yes! Now he's nowhere to be found!" Hans huffed, "How did we even get separated from them? They were right in front of us. Even the dog is gone and he's always by your side."

Henry tried to remember the previous events of the last ten minutes. "I don't know. One moment, they were there then when you and I blinked; they weren't."

The Heir to Rattay groaned in embarassment. "Just my luck. One simple task, deliver a letter and even I can't do that . . . at this point, Hanush will still rule over Rattay even by the time my hairs gone grey."

"Chin up. Maybe . . . summer just became hotter and that's why there's sand everywhere?" Henry tried to answer. Tried. His answer did little but leave an impression of being a complete idiot in Hans' eyes.

"Summer becoming hotter doesn't mean that the whole lands engulfed in sand. Did they teach you nothing in the monastery?" Hans retorted. "Oh wait! You told us yesterday that you stole the Necronomicon from a locked cabinet in the monastery! Maybe that's what got us into this mess!"

"Well . . . all I really did was make some potions and transcribe Latin. Besides, that book was just a bunch of nonsense." Henry tried to calm Hans and even himself down. "Look. We'll ask where we currently are and which directions lead to Trosky."

The young Lord snorted, "Lead to Trosky? We should be asking the directions to Bohemia. It's clear that we're no longer in Bohemia."

An hour nearly seemed to go by as they passed by some rocks which hid the most oddest city that both he and Henry has ever seen. Architecture was not the forte of both him and Henry but this was clearly something foreign, strange onion-like domes were a constant repitition in the design of the structures within the city and there were two tall towers which nearly seemed to pierce the heavens itself. While it wasn't as expansive as Prague, it was certainly much more crammed and taller.

The tallness of the city had Hans faintly remember the Tale of the Tower of Babylon; how the workers tried to create a structure that could reach the very heavens itself but were doomed as God caused confusion amongst the workers by introducing language. Now that he was thinking about languages; he remembered that he could only speak Czech, German, as well as Latin and he knew some slight phrases in Italian and French. He could only hope that the locals were able to understand him.

The sea near the city was certainly vast. The sea.

"Fuck!" Henry stopped his horse and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "There's a fucking sea out there."

Henry hummed at him, "So? If you're looking to insult me because I can't swim-"

"Not that, you simpleton. Bohemia is fucking landlocked. Did we travel to the Land of the Moors?" He questioned himself in disbelief.

Silence passed by them as they attempted to enter the city though the first traveller that they saw on the trail fell off his horse which seemed due to dehydration and as usual, Henry went over to the man to help him on his feet.

Henry approached the man, who he discovered to be armored and had a shortsword. He dusted the man off, helped him get his bearings as well as his horse and offered him some Schnapps and Bread. The man nodded and drank the Schnapps with haste but ate the Bread with some slight hint of caution.

Henry tried to talk to him in a very simplistic version of Czech. "Hello. We. Lost. Know. Place?"

The man looked puzzled, "W-"

Hans chastised his friend. "Its obvious that he doesn't speak Czech." He turned to the man and tried to utter some phrases in German and Latin; even some Italian and French though the man looked twice as puzzled as he was before.

"What the hell are you two on about?" The man questioned them. In fluent Czech with a slight hint of an accent.

Henry turned to Hans who rolled his eyes, "Doesn't speak Czech, huh."

"Piss off."

Henry resumed his questioning with the man, "Hey there, friend. My name is Henry of Skalitz and that there is Sir Hans Capons."

"Sir? He's a hedge knight or something?"

Hans tried to get a say in but Henry answered before him, "Umm, yes. We're lost, see. Can you point us to where we are?"

"Well. We're near Sunspear, that place there-" the man pointed to the foreign city, "is Sunspear, itself."

Henry tried to inquire further, "Yes. But where exactly are we? Do you know where we are, region-wise? Do you know the way to Trosky?"

"Trosky? The hell is that?"

Henry impatiently pressed on, "Look. Just answer the fucking question."

"Damn it all, we're in Dorne." Henry and Hans collectively raised their eyebrow, "Dorne? Do you know the Seven Kingdoms?" The duo still looked as puzzled as they were before. "Where the hell are you two from then, Essos?"

"Ahh, yes. We're from the East." The man shrugged.

"Well. My name is Rickard of White Harbor. I'm as well, a Hedge Knight; and I'm off to Sunspear to find some work."

"Ehrm. Can we . . . come along?"

Rickard muttered under his breath and answered, "I don't see why not." Rickard returned into his saddle and they resumed their travel into Dorne.

"Audentes fortuna fucking iuvat" Henry muttered under his breath.

 

[angbhong]

They had made it through the gates of Sunspear, without much hassle; their guide, Rickard of White Harbor had led them to one of the taverns within the cramped labyrinth of a city that was Sunspear. After that, Rickard had disappeared without a trace. Probably off to find some work somewhere; so they were now at a tavern in some unknown place after God had personally plopped them from Bohemia to some far-off region of the world, the only caveat was that they at least were able to understand the locals though they did not understand the written language as they had experience from seeing the signs of the shops.

"I'm really feeling quite hungry." Henry complained to himself.

"Oh you do?" Hans said in complete sarcasm. "You really do; well I'm completely drenched in sweat! My plate armor doesn't fare well under the desert sun."

Henry snorted. "Are you yanking my pizzle? You're complaining to me about heat? I'll have you know that brigandine fares much worse than plate when it comes to heat." Hans gestured to the Tavern Wench and ordered some soup. "Look. We need to formulate a plan, at least a semblance of one; we'll have to find the help of a Monk or a Scribe—a learned man at the least so that we can find out where Bohemia is and where we currently are and then ferry a ride on a ship."

"Do they even accept groschen here?"

Henry shrugged. "Let's find out." he pulled out fifteen groschen from his pouch just as the Tavern Wench had returned who gladly accepted it with mild fervor.

Hans rolled his eyes for possibly the hundredth time that day, "Did she even inspect our groschen and see if its the same currency as theirs?" Henry shrugged yet again and Hans muttered a curse under his breath.

"Look. Hans." The young Heir to Rattay perked up. "Do not, under any circumstances, reveal your status as a Lord." Hans tried to get a word but Henry caught him off like a mother would to her child, "Under any circumstances. They don't even know what the Holy Roman Empire is, never mind where Rattay is. If it comes down to it, just say you're a knight or something to that effect."

"Oh fine." Hans reluctantly agreed. "That fella, Rickard, thought we were hedge knights. Do you know what that is?" Henry shrugged.

Hans facepalmed himself, "Why did you just say that you were then!? Imagine if hedge knights were their version of the Knights Templar."

"So? The Knights Templar were a respected organization within the church."

"Yes! Were." Hans groaned yet again, "Then they were burned at the stake for heresy. Imagine if hedge knights had the same reputation as our Knights Templar."

"Oh."

"Next time. Don't agree to being a part of something when you don't even know what that thing is."

Hans began to finally eat the soup which to his surprise was surprisingly delicious, Henry however did not seem to agree as he coughed when he began to eat.

"The hell is that? Are they yanking my pizzle?" Henry complained.

"No. You simpleton, that's called spices. You know, Pepper . . ."

"I know what spices are! It's so . . . there's so many spices." Henry coughed yet again.

"We are not even gonna make it back to Bohemia, are we?" Hans muttered grimly.

---

After they had finished eating their soup, and after Henry had finally stopped complaining about being hungry. They had marched off somewhere, which is to say that they got lost in Sunspear. Though, after two hours of getting lost; and after the 'help' of some locals who only offered it after a payment of a twenty groschen regarding what the Kingdoms were, and who the lords were, and now they had finally made it to the docks where there was plenty of ships to be found, mostly merchant ships and the like.

"Let me do the talking." Henry said as they approached what looked to be a captain of one of the ships.

"Hello, Sir; we are adventurers and we are looking to find passage into . . . less harsher climate. Are you a ship captain, by chance?"

"Yes. yes. We don't travel to Essos; if ye' don't mind but our next voyage should take us to Oldtown."

Henry had no idea where that was but surely that was somewhere important, either that or it was somewhere totally desolate and barren and that was why it was named Oldtown. The captain eyed Hans and his intricate armor and hummed.

"I'll take ye' along for two hundred silver stags."

Henry quickly pulled out exactly a hundred and seventy-five groschen and haggled. "Hundred and seventy-five foreign coins." he hoped and prayed to God that the man would accept.

"Foreign, eh. You fellas from Essos?"

"Farther off, from that."

"You don't look like you're from Yi-Ti but looks can be deceiving. I'll take it. The ship will embark in two days, so give me the coins by then."

After their conversation with the ship captain, they returned once again to the foreign city; to hopefully find some room and board but with the way things were going . . . Henry wasn't sure that they'd even find that. If things were really awful when it came to their chances then they'd have to find room and board in a manger and he wasn't looking forward to having Hans complain about their sleeping conditions.

 

[MrSplashy]

Oh no, Hans better keep Henry fed or who knows what he'll do when he is hungry!

Also this is the first KCD fanfic that I ever seen so I have expectations and this will be fun ride.

 

[Fearless444]

its beautiful

 

[angbhong]

They had found room and board at an inn near the ship docks, and it had vastly fascinated Henry on the different attire in which the men and obviously the women had adorned themselves with; wearing some loose clothing by Bohemian standard and he even spotted some dock workers donning nothing more than their trousers as well as their footwear as they toiled with their work.

Despite the cultural differences and the odd environment, he would still ashamedly declare that he and Hans did peek on the buttocks on quite of a few on the scantily-clad exotic women because of their libido; how he and Hans ever managed to get away with that was something that he could not explain however, if they were caught then he would reckon that Hans' noble status would do little against stopping a punishment of flogging for their indecency and degeneracy.

But right now, he could care about none of that as he was currently concerned with another issue; Hans, for whatever reason, did not want to sleep in his room, they had gotten their rooms fairly cheaply and it was on his opinion, perfectly ordinary and fine, but his 'peasant' eyes but not be able to distinguish suitable accommodations with awful one's as Sir Hans did. Though if he had to sleep on an awful room or sleep on the streets or even a manger like the Blessed Mary did then he would pick the first without hesitation.

"I am not sleeping in this bed." Sir Hans vehemently protested.

"What do you mean you're not sleeping in that bed?" Henry questioned him, with Henry's own hands covering his face which was full of barely constrained frustration and fatigue.

"It might be full of lice or fleas and the like." Hans weakly gave his rather awful explanation.

"Are you kidding me- That's my problem, how?"

"Look. You can sleep all you want in that dirty bed of yours but I, as a nobleman, am not going to sleep in that lice-infested bed."

Henry breathed in, deeply, and then breathed out. "Fine. Sleep however you want for all I care. I'll sleep in my own room and you can sleep standing-up."

After their short and somewhat heated conversation, Henry retreated back into his rented room and slept in the possibly lice-and-flea infested bed. He unbuckled his sword from his waist, and went on to remove every piece of armor that he had from his Brigandine down to his hauberk. However, he did not remove his plate leg armor nor did he remove his gambeson. He as well as kept a dagger on his person; after all, there might be an intruder or a vagabond that might enter into his room unannounced and try and make off with his items.

Henry blew air into his cupped hands and rubbed it together due to the cold as it was somewhat surprising for him to find out that a harsh desert day would result in a colder desert night.

He sighed and sat down on his bed; all he wanted was to kill Istvan, kill Markvart, and kill Sigismund. How tough can that get? But it seems that God had personally shat down on his plans as there was possibly no way for him to reach even a single one of his targets with where he is now. By the time that he gets back to Bohemia, Father Godwin might've possibly started a religious war or even a crusade because he was inspired by what Jan Hus had preached about, either that or the Church has finally kicked Godwin out; either of which was just as likely as the other . . . now that he was thinking about it then he would further guess that Father Godwin might've potentially been burned at the stake by the time that they had returned. Anything's in the realm of possibility when it came to Father Godwin.

The confusing and rather awful day had finally caused Henry to collapse into his bed and sleep like a rock. He dreamt no dreams nor did he dream nightmares.

---

After they had woken up, they had wanted to—for the lack of better words, adventure; because it wasn't every day that they could get to visit a city such as this, and they had fully intended to make the most of their travel. Though Henry was constantly watching over Sir Hans, as was his duty, lest the man were to fool around with the women and sire a child which was something that he currently did not have the patience to handle that potential debacle.

Henry and Hans were currently navigating themselves throughout the cramped labyrinth of a city that was Sunspear; market places that Henry heard referred to as bazaars had cluttered the city; with each and every vendor seemed to be haggling with their customer with a fiery vigor and it seemed that if they weren't haggling or selling an item that they were calling out to any bystanders if they had wanted anything from their stall. All in all, it was very intimidating.

Henry bumped into a man and he said an apology, but his waist felt lighter, which could mean only one thing, "Thief! Get back here!"

He immediately ran after the pickpocket into one of the numerous alleyways within the city; with Hans tailing after him, the thief was clever enough to bring on obstacles upon them like hurling a basket or two or causing a traffic among the crowds. Though it had done little to stop him as he shoved past anyone who posed an obstacle, just so he could catch the damned robber. Henry was glad that his and Sir Hans' funds were divided with the latter holding the greater amount of coin, not that it really matters as he was not going to live with the embarrassment brought on by Sir Hans if others were to hear that he had been pickpocketed and lost silver.

He saw the robber try to scale the walls, jumping from one window to another, and he had to praise the man for his quick feets and nimble hands; but his silver was still held on by the man and he wasn't going to let that be and he picked up a rather sizable rock and threw it at the mans head which instantly caused him to lose his grip and fall back to the floor.

Henry grappled the man just as he came to, and he finally grabbed his pouch of silver back. But the damned thief would just not give up as he still tried to choke out Henry, not that it lead to any good defense as Henry pulled back and let out a punch from his armored gauntlet aimed at the mans head, which cause the perpetrator to go limp, whether he was dead or not was no longer Henry's problem. That was up to God, but he heard a the man breath so the Lord must've shown him mercy.

Hans caught up to him hiding a chuckle as he went to check on Henry, who was dusting himself off.

"Gods man!" He finally let out that chuckle, "You just got robbed at your second day here."

"Not one word." Henry warned. "Bastard nearly made off with my silver." He gave a kick to the pickpockets body and he dropped to his knees in exhaustion.

"Not just yet." An unknown and accented voice let out. "That was one of our own."

Hans and Henry looked behind them and saw three men covered with shawls and each gripping curved swords like those used by the Cumans, they were lightly armored as they only wore studded leather. One was fairly burly, the other two were fairly regular when it came to body size. Henry went forwards by three steps, his fingers lightly touching his longsword. Hans stepped back behind Henry.

"So? He stole our silver and paid the price, he'll live if you get him to a healer though." Henry tried to calmly explain. But the time for talking was over and the men pointed their swords towards Henry and Sir Hans. Henry and Hans quickly unsheathed their blade. This was dangerous, though they had certainly faced worse odds, they were outnumbered by just a man which could be enough for just one of them to lose their life.

Henry held his sword forward, though it had barely been half a year since he had first drawn blood; he did not give off any illusion that he was inexperienced, to the contrary as he held his sword like a seasoned swordsman. Hans held his sword aloft, a single succesful sweep from his blade was enough to fell one of the men.

Henry sidestepped as the burly man tried to lunge at him with his blade and give a quick step; Hans meanwhile faced off the other men, losing ground everytime his sword clashed with his opponents blades. Henry slit his foes knee with a fast thrust from his longsword then tried to slash the mans throat or at the very least the face but he only got to slash the mans studded leather which wasn't enough to put the man from the fight.

Hans managed to be lucky, as he managed to tap the neck of one of his opponent with his blade which managed to get the man to bleed from the neck but it wasn't enough to neutralize him. His succesful hit had put him at a disadvantage as his opponents enraged friend had now began to grapple at Hans which rendered Hans' sword useless. Hans was headbutted in the head, though his bascinet managed to get his foe to be the one to be damaged instead. Henry managed to slit his own opponents wrist then began to impale his opponents throat in quick succession, seeing Hans get grappled had Henry panic and he rushed in and placed two slashes at each of the remaining foes which managed to fell one but leave the other alive.

Henry sighed as he pointed the sword of his tip towards the remaining opponents throat, contemplating whether he should let the man live or die . . . but life was the gift of God and it was sacred so he let the man go on the condition that he get the pickpocket and himself to the healer. To which the man frantically nodded and abided by Henry's request.

Hans laughed as Henry checked him off for any damage to his person, which thankfully enough was none. Henry only had one thing to say to his friend, "I'm feeling quite hungry."

"You know what . . . Me too!" They laughed as they cleaned themselves off with a rag.

They ate some stew later on; though Henry had personally told the server to have him be served with stew that didn't have as much spices as they had regularly served their customers with, though when the stew had arrived, it was still just as spicy. By the time that midday had came, they had to return to their rented rooms to sleep. This time, Hans didn't complain about his living conditions as he slept soundly. After all, they had quite the adventure in store for them by tomorrow.

---

They managed to caught up with their ship, and they paid off their fee; though they nearly forgot their horses so they had to pay two hundred more groschen for the trouble and with the extra luggage.

Henry puked into the side of the ship for the eleventh time that day, his bowels were not entirely pleased with himself and the meal that he had eaten earlier were all for naught as he had also puked that as well; he did not entirely imagine that this would be how he would fare on his first trip in the sea. The sea stank of rotten eggs; and the constant motion of the ship were to blame in Henry's opinion.

Hans however, breathed in the open air. "Ahh. Maybe this is a gift from God rather than a curse. Isn't it, Henry?" Henry groaned. "Fresh air. With the world as our oister. It's like I have always said since we departed from Rattay, 'Audentes fortuna iuvat'. Imagine how our next destination would look! The women as well!"

"So long as pirates don't kill us first." Henry muttered, damn it; the bile was tasting awful and acidic on his mouth.

---

That's a wrap. I'll take any complaints to mind.