When Sansa had left his office, it was already evening, but he didn't want to waste time by sleeping, not when he was in a good mood.
After a long prayer session, one that included thanking the divines for their mercy for granting him good rewards even when he didn't pray properly. Then, he activated the reward.
[Brown Bear]
[Common Familiar: A regular big old brown bear companion, as a familiar they are a bear who has excellent genetics and near human intellect, they are strong enough to shrug off most small firearms and crush a human being like an apple.}
He flinched at the read the text. Another familiar, the second one since the delivery of the first one had failed. A clear punishment for his mistake. He whispered a prayer, accepting his punishment…
{Warning! Due to low-magic environment, familiar deliveries are temporarily canceled. Please designate a local candidate to be imbued with the necessary properties instead. We apologize for the inconvenience.}
"This poor servant thanks the divines of chaos and gacha for their mercy," he whispered, happy with the change.
Compared to the forgiveness itself, the reward paled … not that he was complaining. Having an animal companion could be really useful, especially if the animal in question was near human intelligence. Taming would allow him to communicate with the bear, not only making him an amazing guard for important people or locations but also a surprisingly effective spy.
Who would expect a bear to understand what they were speaking about?
He pulled the reward from the gold ticket.
[Enhanced Strength]
{Uncommon Trait: Enhances the user's existing strength, increasing the physical force they can exert proportional to their own strength.}
"Excellent," he muttered. Technically, merely an uncommon reward from a gold ticket was a small reward, but not when it came to strength. His Healthy trait had solved the problems from his poor childhood, but that merely brought him to the same level as the other squires.
It represented a critical weakness in his fighting style, particularly against armored opponents. Not only did he lack the penetrating power to truly threaten anyone in decent armor, but it also left him weak to frontal assault from any half-decent knight that was stronger than him.
He was lucky enough to control every battle he had to play his advantages, both his speed and stamina, but there were many situations he couldn't control the situation. Like, what would happen if Sansa and Daenerys was attacked by multiple assailants, forcing him to stand his ground and defend them rather than move around.
Enhanced Strength solved all of it.
Afterward, he walked around his new base, making sure everything was in order. He spent extra time with two groups. Wood carvers, which allowed him to improve his artistic understanding rapidly, his finger flexibility proving useful once more to support the Fine Arts skill.
The second group he had spent time with was the bookkeepers. He had been surprised to see Wise Masters trusting their finances to their slaves at first, but then he realized Wise Masters, despite being merchants at their core, still disdained people that dealt with nitty-gritty details.
Was Littlefinger the only man who understood the importance of knowing the numbers? What a fascinating man, somehow reversing the understanding of the whole world to climb to power. Too bad he was a shifty asshole that could never be trusted.
Rohar made a note to gut him at the first opportunity he got.
He stayed with the bookkeepers for three reasons. He wanted to improve his understanding of numbers and calculations. Luckily, he could easily pull the same trick he used with Missandei, just asking them to explain everything while he acted like he barely paid attention to details, busy with a wood carving.
The combination of Manager, Student, Adept Math, and Training Booster turned him into a very capable business owner. Nowhere near perfect, but considering he merely spent two hours with them, it was still a miracle. And, the best part, they would never expect him to understand the intricacies; they wouldn't realize him catching their inevitable embezzlement and cheating.
It was the second reason. He wanted to understand his employees better. Who wanted an easy life, who wanted to rise, who would be the first one to start pushing the boundaries of their new job.
Rohar respected the resolve of the former slaves to build their lives, and he understood their struggle. But, those two facts didn't mean that he trusted them blindly. Gratitude faded with time, but ambition burned even brighter.
He didn't resent them for their inevitable ambition. They were freemen, and it was only natural for them to try to rise. It was his job to make sure their ambitions stayed … manageable. A little skimming or corruption was fine.
Betrayal was not.
Then, there was the third reason. He wanted to understand Wise Masters better, and what better way to ask people that had been responsible for keeping track of what they owned. He didn't expect them to have the full picture, but luckily, he didn't need the full picture. All he needed was a direction, to understand where the attacks might come in…
Where he could preemptively attack.
Initially, in the council meeting, he had decided to leave them alone until the situation exploded, but that was before Daenerys casually gave him the right to raise his private army under her official remit. It made Yunkai too important to let it fall into chaos.
Also, cleaning up after Daenerys' obvious mistake would have annoyed him considerably more if it wasn't been for their earlier encounter … which had the added benefit of finally galvanizing Sansa to take that last step.
He wanted to stay with the bookkeepers to dig deeper, but instead, he forced himself to leave and visit the camp. Having Daenerys' favor didn't mean that connections with others were useless.
He first checked to see if Ser Barristan was available for another training session, but learning he was guarding the Queen in a meeting, he drifted toward his next destination. The camp of the Second Sons outside the city.
The camp didn't smell good, which was not a shocker. Two thousand men who were not famed for their hygiene would have been bad enough without adding two thousand horses to the mix.
Still, it smelled considerably better than King's Landing.
He approached, aware that whenever he passed, the crowd fell silent. Understandable. He hadn't been a part of the army for long, as it was merely the second night of his arrival, but his three achievements were obvious.
He impressed Ser Barristan enough for him to train him openly, a man whose fame had long been known even in Essos. He had singlehandedly opened the gates and let the army invade the city with minimal casualties, giving sellswords what they loved the most … a quick and easy battle.
He fucked the Queen, which was supposed to be a secret that was supposed to stay more hidden to distract from his help with the dragons, but apparently Daenerys had a change of mind and let it spread. He didn't know why, nor did he care.
It wasn't like he didn't have a reputation before.
As he walked, he wondered which of his three achievements had made the biggest impact among the sellsword. Rationally, it was supposed to be the first or the second one, but he suspected it to be the last one.
Riding the dragon queen had a certain ring to it.
Before long, Daario appeared to cut his path. "You miserable bastard," he shouted as he swung his blade, but his smile, combined with the fact that the blade didn't aim anything dangerous, marked it as a friendly greeting.
He responded in kind, flicking his spear to parry his attack. "Good evening to you, my friend," he said cheerfully.
"You're in a good mood," Daario grumbled in mock anger.
"Is there a reason why I shouldn't be?" he responded, twirling his spear to counter-attack, forcing Daario to dodge.
"I guess not. Certainly not after stealing my beautiful Queen's attention," he declared in good humor. He might see seduction as a serious part of his life, but at least he was not a sore loser. "You might have proved yourself the better lover, but I'll prove myself the better warrior."
"Careful, that sounds like a challenge," Rohar declared.
"What if it is?"
"Well, sparring can be dangerous. Who knows what might happen," Rohar said as he stabbed his spear to the ground, as if he were surrendering. Daario's smile disappeared into a frown. Rohar raised his fists. "Punches, on the other hand, have no such risk."
Daario laughed. "Now you're speaking my language, my friend. Care to make it interesting?"
"Depends on how interesting you want it to be?" Rohar responded.
"Nothing much. Ten gold dragons," he said.
It was more than he would have made in a lifetime while working as a dockhand back in King's Landing, but in his new situation, it was truly counted as a friendly bet. "Sure, works for me," he said.
He still picked his spear while he followed Daario to the middle of the camp, to an area where several people were already sparring. Some used weapons, some were fighting with their fists, while some just arm-wrestled.
Around them, however, half of the camp had gathered, cheering or cursing depending on their bets.
"Since the pits are closed, we had to make our own entertainment," Daario said.
"I'm guessing pits had been the most important source of entertainment."
Daario let out a laugh. "Like you couldn't understand. Everything revolves around them. Rich, poor, free, slave, everyone's life revolves around the pits."
"How about you?" Rohar asked.
"Even more for me," he laughed. "I was sold to the pits when I was twelve. I was sixteen when I first fought. Fighting in front of thousands of people, each crying for your blood, trying to kill the man in front of you before they succeed … it's a divine feeling."
Rohar nodded, understanding why Daario liked spectacle so much despite having a shockingly practical perspective in life. "It was different for me," he said. "I grew up as an orphan, and didn't hit my growth spurt before seventeen. For me, the best fight was the one that happens in the dark, ideally ending before it starts."
"Your loss, my friend. The gods gave men two things to entertain ourselves with before we die; the thrill of having sex with a woman who earnestly wants it, and the thrill of killing a man who is trying to kill you first."
Rohar laughed. "I always prefer the first one, and avoid the second one."
That made not only Daario, but also everyone who could hear them laugh. "My friend, we have seen the way you train with Ser Barristan. You don't move like a man who doesn't enjoy fighting."
He smirked. "Oh, I enjoy fighting. Killing, however, I only do out of necessity, when some bastard thinks that they could take what's mine."
Daario shrugged. "I can see the distinction, but I prefer to be more direct, looking my enemy in the eye."
Rohar chuckled. "I'm the opposite. I'm proud to be a shifty bastard. Killing is killing."
That made the surrounding sellswords cheer and heckle in equal measures, which didn't surprise him. He had spent too much time with Bronn, and he knew exactly how the sellswords thought.
Even Daario, despite his claim about preferring face-to-face combat, just nodded in appreciation. A knight would have been disgusted by the same declaration.
They needled each other as they moved to the center of the open sparring field, and the crowd pulled. Rohar put his spear to the ground, followed by a dozen knives he pulled from various parts of his body, Daario pulling a similar move.
Rohar was hamming it up for the audience, as he knew their perspective would be useful. Ultimately, they were the ones who had lived in Essos for a lifetime, while he was a foreigner. He couldn't assume everything working like King's Landing.
"I hope you're ready for pain, my friend," Daario declared. "As a pit fighter, I have been extensively trained in unarmed combat."
Rohar didn't say anything as he lashed forward, punching. Daario dodged with a lazy flick of his head, and counter-attacked with a punch of his own, the crowd already cheering to his success … only to gasp when Rohar grabbed his wrist and pulled, unbalancing him before throwing him.
Daario didn't hit the ground hard, but rolled away. Rohar didn't follow, instead smirking. "Well, I'm not a slouch when it comes to Essosian styles," he said. "King's Landing has many visitors, and some are even willing to teach a curious street rat a few tricks for a tankard of beer."
"Nasty trick," Daario said. "You should have followed and finished it."
"Oh, where's the fun in that, my friend? Killing might be done mercilessly, but fighting is best enjoyed slowly."
"Well said," Daario chuckled and attacked. Rohar stayed defensive, watching as Daario moved through different tricks. If it were a real battle, he would have moved back and forth with economic movements, trying to finish him with the first mistake.
Since it was a fight for fun, he pushed his Expert Savoir Faire to the limit, enjoying the further improvement. His student trait didn't trigger, but Training Booster was still active, allowing him to adapt and learn. Instead of relying on reflexes, he tried to read his movements. Instead of attacking, he revealed fake weaknesses to drive him to attack. Sometimes it worked, other times he ended up receiving a painful punch to the kidney, but ultimately, it helped him to sharpen his Kung Fu skill in a way he failed to do.
For the first time, he felt something engaging properly. The directness of his attacks disappeared, replaced by constant circular movements, but it wasn't as showy as his acrobatic spear dance.
More importantly, he felt something warm inside his chest, flickering for a moment. Something he would have dismissed as just a reaction to his pain, if it wasn't for a line of text appearing on his sight.
[Feat Achieved! Awaken your internal energy
+1x Bronze Random Gacha ticket]
They fought some more, but that feeling proved elusive. He decided to end it. He made a show of slipping, pushing his acting to the limit. "My win," Daario declared happily as he rushed, only for him to fix his posture at the last second, grab the attacking arm, and twist until Daario was locked under him.
"I'm afraid it's my win, my friend," Rohar replied as he tapped his shoulder, then let him go. Daario cursed, but he wasn't too bothered by his loss even after losing in front of his men.
It was understandable; Rohar's reputation meant that there was little shame in losing to him, especially after an extended bout that left both of them tired … well, at least seemingly so. Rohar made sure to match Daario's deep breaths to not to look suspicious.
"So, drinks?" Rohar asked.
"Drinks are on you," Daario said even as he threw a pouch to him, holding the bet. Rohar didn't refuse, as refusing the reward of a bet would be a grave insult. But, despite saying that, he just went back to the side, and other people took their place in the opening. "You fight with flair," Daario said with a sigh. "It's a pity that pits are closed. They would have loved you there."
He shrugged. "A pity. It looks like I have to fight for victory and riches, and cry myself to sleep."
Daario laughed as he poured a drink. Rohar brought it to his nose, the smell sharp. "What's this, paint thinner?" he said, but he still drank it directly.
"With wars going on, it's difficult to find good drink, my friend."
"Still, there are ways to make it somehow decent," he said, looking around the table. There wasn't much, mostly nuts, a few different types of fresh fruits, some water that best left untouched, but nearby, he saw a spice bag the cook was using while he roasted a sheep. "Pass me the spice bag," he asked.
"Spices in a drink, are you mad?" Daario said, but curiosity was stronger, so he gestured the cook to bring it. He had a point, but Rohar had a secret weapon. Mixology. He quickly mixed a few different drinks using fresh fruit and spices. Daario took a sip, his eyes widening. "Holy divine. This is delicious!"
Rohar smirked. "I thought I was mad!"
"Then let's get mad together!" he cheered. Rohar explained the recipes to the camp cook. Having their horrid drink turn into something palatable, the camp turned even more amusing.
It stood to reason that they had made an impression. He left the camp only when silence fell on the camp. With the taste of their drink improved, it didn't take long for all of them to get horribly drunk. Rohar made sure to keep his own drinks filled mostly with fruit juice and water.
A good precaution, it turned out, as the moment he entered the city, he noticed four people following him in the shadows. He walked a while before he stopped and went into an empty alley. "My damnable bladder," he growled loudly while he leaned against his spear, looking perfectly like a drunk. An invitation to an attack.
So, he wasn't surprised when four observers, each wearing dark clothes and wielding daggers, burst out and attacked him. "W-who are you?" Rohar gasped in fear while he barely defended their attack.
"No one who dares to challenge the Wise Masters will survive," one of them declared.
"W-which coward dares to defy the Breaker of Chains!" Rohar gasped, even as one of the daggers cut through his shirt. He stumbled against the wall, his hands holding his spear trembling.
"You think great master Qaggaz fears that foreign whore—" one of them declared, and was immediately silenced by Rohar, followed by the death of the other three attackers. He got the name he wanted. Yezzan zo Qaggaz. One of the first so-called Wise Masters to swear his fealty.
And, apparently smart enough not to miss an excellent opportunity to remove a dangerous opponent.
He didn't bother taking them hostage or keeping them alive. Because the moment he did that, Daenerys had to be involved. Her order to execute one of the Wise Masters would galvanize the rest, but if she didn't take action, she would look weak.
Worse, he suspected it would be the second. While sending a few assassins was a simple thing, targeting Rohar was not as simple. They must have known that killing him would anger Daenerys, which was a bad idea with the army still at Yunkai.
Meaning, Yezzan might be more clearheaded than the average Wise Master, recognizing the danger Silver Drake presented to their ability to retake Yunkai once the army left, and moved to strangle the danger in its cradle.
Maybe a nighttime visit was in order…