Chapter 11: The Valyria Expedition (3) part 4

Catching himself with his hands on his knees, Theo Snow – or Theo Pyke, when he was out of the North and back where he belonged on the Iron Islands – resisted the urge to rip the blasted leather mask off his face so that he could breathe properly. But despite his deep hatred for the sorcerer, he couldn't deny that the man was intelligent, frighteningly so. And because of that, when the sorcerer spoke of the dangers of Valyria, Theo listened and obeyed. Even if he had been planning on stabbing the man in the back ever since before the Sea Wolf set sail from White Harbor.

Glancing to his left and right, Theo took stock of the few that were left who he'd managed to convince to go along with his little plot. Of the ten he'd convinced to follow his lead in leaving the sorcerer and taking the treasures for themselves, only four, including himself, remained. There was some bastard, from the Riverlands he thought, and two others from the North. The Riverlands fuck was bleeding, curtesy of the Red Viper's cunt of a daughter. And one of the men from the North was nursing a broken arm, thanks to that Mormont bitch's mace which she'd taken from the Vault. The other six were all dead. Killed when that skeleton-fucking-dragon decided to show up and breathe fire down on the ruins. And then there were the fucking stonemen that came right behind the beast…

'Two of us are lame…and we're weighed down,' he thought, his eyes glancing to the leather saddle bag he had hanging around his shoulders. A saddle bag that was filled to the brim with more gold than he'd ever seen in his entire life. Enough gold to set him up with his own ship and his own crew. This bag was his future…and he would be damned if he would let it out of his sight. 'Our best…and only – hope is that the fucking dragon and stonemen managed to finish those noble fuckers, the sorcerer, and bastard boy off.'

"Never should have listen to ya…Fuckin Iron Born cunt."

Glaring to his left, Theo spared the Riverlander a sneer. "You were just as ready to betray the fucking sorcerer as I was. So, don't give me no shit just because you wanted to get your fucking cock wet in that Dornish cunt."

"Probably couldn't even get his cock wet," one of the northerners chuckled as if there was something amusing about their current situation. "Bet that one is as dry as the deserts those snakes call home."

"Cunts, cocks, fucking, gold…none of it fucking matters right now, just in case none of you pieces of shit realize how deep of shit we're fucking in," the other Northerner spat, surprising Theo as he actually spoke a semblance of sense. "We've all seen the horrors of this godless land, and now we're stuck in the middle of it, alone, without the fucking sorcerer to guide us and no boats to hide on."

"We won't be out here for long," Theo countered, resting his back against the rocks they were resting behind. "Between that dragon and the fuckin stonemen, no way those noble pricks survived. And even if they did… Well, they won't stay here long. All we need do is hide out here a day and then go back. If they're dead, we loot their corpses and take the boats. Then continue with the plan to convince the others on the Sea Wolf to turn on the fat fuck, and then the Sea Wolf, the treasure, and the path to Valyria will be ours to sell to the richest Lords and Ladies in Essos. We'll live like fucking kings still. Mark my words."

"And what if they're not dead?" the riverlander challenged. "If the…the sorcerer ain't dead… What then?"

Shrugging, Theo tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. "Then we wait until they're gone. Fashion a raft out of all the rubble that the Viper found along the docks and make our way out to Essos. Either way, we still get to leave here with as much coin, jewels, and Valyrian steel as we can carry. I doubt the sorcerer, if he is even still alive, will care about us. All we need ta do is hide and wait."

"I wouldn't be too sure about me not caring."

Theo felt all the blood in his body freeze as it suddenly felt like he was standing naked atop the Wall.

'No…It can't be,' he half whispered, half prayed to the Drowned God as he slowly turned around as his sight traveled upwards. But the Drowned God could not hear his prayers, not in this forsaken land. For squatting atop the very rockpile he was leaning against was none other than the Northern Sorcerer. His rumored eyeless face hidden behind his ever-present cloth and the leather mask he made them all wear. "You know, while hide and seek isn't my favorite game, I'm not all that bad at it either. Wouldn't you lot agree?"

Theo had heard stories from the ones who'd survived the massacre of The Pyke. Tales of the sorcerer being the Storm God reborn. That he destroyed the very walls of Castle Pyke with thunder and lightning he'd summoned forth. How his sword of fire cut through wood, steel, and leather as if they were nothing. Of how battle-hardened Ironborn now pissed themselves out of fear just from the thought of getting too close to him. But Theo had always thought the stories to be horse shit, especially after traveling with the man for months. But now, staring up at that mask and cloth covered face, Theo felt as if he were staring into the very eyes of the Storm God and the Stranger of the Seven, had they somehow combined into this one vengeful being.

"Run!" he hardly even recognized his own voice, and he wasn't even sure just how he managed to pull the dagger from his sheath and throw it at the sorcerer. All he knew was that one moment he was staring down death and now he was running for his very life.

'Fucking – Shit…! Ass-fucking nobles!' he cursed, squinting as he tried his best to see as the land became darker and darker. 'Fucking Balon Greyjoy ordering me to come! Fucking sorcerer!Fuck that Greyjoy cunt! Bet she's fucking the sorcerer and that's why she didn't join us! She probably sucks his cock and kisses his ass whenever he tells her too! She's nothing but a fucking puppet he's going to send back to the Iron Isl—' "Ahh fuck!"

His screams echoed as the ground beneath his feet gave way to nothing. He could feel the air rushing past as he fell deep into darkness, his hands reaching desperately for anything to break his fall. And suddenly it ended as his back hit the ground, driving the air from him. "Fuck," he coughed, rolling over and noticing that he wasn't the only one who'd fallen into this pit as the other three had joined him. Getting his hands under him, he tried to clear his head as his hand…slipped across the ground. Despite his slightly dazed state, he could immediately tell that that wasn't normal…whatever it was he'd put his hand in.

"What the fuck?" one of the others mumbled, lifting his hand, which was covered is some…strange substance. "What is that fucking stench! And what the fuck is this shite?"

"That 'shite' is a viscus secretion from a rather unpleasant creature that calls this area it's home."

Looking up, Theo found the sorcerer, once again squatting above them all. Only this time he was on the edge of the hole that they'd fallen into. And hole which seemed to be as deep as four men standing atop one another. Turning away from the sorcerer, he tried to find some way of getting out of this hole, but the dim light barely provided them with enough light to see much of anything in the hole they were stuck in. Quickly giving up on looking around, Theo yelled up at the bastard, "What the fuck are you on about cunt?" as he was trying to get to his feet…only to slip in the strange substance.

With the dim sky light backing him, Theo could do little more than watch as the sorcerer picked up a stick of some sort and scraped one end around the inside of the hole, collecting the strange substance on the end. "This slime is a mucus secreted from a slug-like creature. And that smell you noted is a compound that, if I had to guess, is a type of petrochemical. In other words, it is highly flammable. Shall we test that theory?"

The air hissed as the sorcerer's strange fire-blade came to life. Holding the stick in one hand, the sorcerer brought the fire-blade to the end of the stick he'd rubbed inside the hole, and to Theo's fear, the stick burst into fire as if it were coated in oil. "Interesting. Highly flammable. And the gel consistency isn't affected by heat. In fact, the heat almost seems to be hardening the gel, making it cling even more tightly to whatever is on fire. Interesting defense mechanism. The dragons were the alpha predators of this land…so these creatures developed a natural defense against them by fighting fire with fire. So, if the dragons burned them or tried to eat them, their secretions would ignite, burning and sticking to whatever killed them. Makes one not want to mess with them. Such a curious evolutionary trait."

"What the fuck are you on about, sorcerer?" Theo shouted, finally rising to his feet and looking around. If this shit did burn like the sorcerer was showing, then Theo really did not like the way the sorcerer was holding that torch so close to the edge of the pit. "You…You fucking caught us. We surrender."

"Surrender?" the sorcerer asked, his head turning back towards them. "Oh, forgot you lot were there. Sorry about that. I tend to get carried away when I find something fascinating. Oh, and as for your surrender, that's going to be a 'no'."

"No?" one of the Northern men barked. "I – I'll take the Black for my crimes! You – You serve the Starks! I've decided to take the Black! So, you're honor-bound to see me to the Wall!"

The fire-blade disappeared as the sorcerer stood to his full height. "Am I? While it is true that I do serve Lord Stark, that is primarily because one: I like the man. And two: for the time being, our goals align. But that does not mean that I share Lord Stark's sense of honor. You lot have been planning this mutiny with the others since before we departed Braavos. I know you lot planned on leaving the rest of us to die. That you planned on using the riches of Valyria to make the other crewmembers of the Sea Wolf turn against Ser Manderly. I also know that you either planned on either selling Lady Talisa and Lady Ellaria into slavery or turning them into your own version of Salt Wives. And I also know that each of you were sent to White Harbor to spy on the North. You, the Riverlander, were sent by House Frey. You were sent by the Lords of Skagos. You were sent by the Lords of the Three Sisters. And you, loudmouth, were sent by Balon Greyjoy. Each of you had orders to sabotage the expedition or to make sure I never returned to the North. So, what makes you think that I would show you mercy now?"

Theo felt his blood run even colder, if that was even possible. "Horse shit!"

"Didn't you find it odd?" the sorcerer continued. "That you lot were always thrown together during the voyage? I knew that you were all planning on trying to kill me and the others, even if you didn't know that about each other. I planned this all from the very start. I made sure you traitors were always together. I even gave slight…encouragement to your planning. I was the one who planted the idea of leaving me to rot here in Valyria."

With each word, Theo found himself involuntarily taking a step back until his back was pressed against the slime covered wall of the pit. He didn't want to believe the sorcerer…but…it all fit. He hadn't even questioned the fact that his bunk, isolated in one of the lower levels of the ship, was with so many others that were of similar mindset to his own. And he hadn't even thought twice when all of them eagerly jumped at the chance to join the expedition…Nor had he baulked when the suggestion came about that, instead of stabbing the man in the back, that they would leave him to die in Valyria. 'No…He's spewing horse shit! He—He couldn't have planned all of this!'

"Yes, I did plan all of this, Theo Pyke." The words made his breath catch as he suddenly couldn't breathe. "You see, I knew it would require a decent amount of manpower to get to Valyria. However, the same amount of manpower would not be needed to leave. In fact, keeping the same number would be a nuisance as it would mean that I would have to leave some of the lost knowledge of Valyria behind. And Force only knows when I'll be able to come back here to gather more. So, the most obvious solution is that I needed to leave with fewer men than which I came with. And you and your accomplices provided the perfect solution to that. After all, no one will question the loss of traitors. And speaking of which, I suppose it's time we wrap this up. If I were you, I wouldn't let this touch the ground."

Time slowed as the sorcerer held the torch over the pit and then let it go. The others with him started yelling as they tried to get away, but he knew it was no use. This slime was everywhere. Which meant there was only one chance for survival. Tracking the falling flame, Theo waited until just the right moment before snatching the torch from the air.

"Hahahahaha!" he laughed, holding the torch high and glaring at the sorcerer. "Is that the best you can do, cunt!?"

"No," the sorcerer shrugged. "I can do far worse than that. But, if I were you, I would be far more worried about those things, especially as I am no longer holding them back. I wonder if they'll simply eat you or if they'll use you as incubation hosts for their young. But, eh… a study for another time, I guess. Oh, and by the way, I do believe they are attracted to heat signatures… So, if I were you, I would find a safe place to put that torch down."

A loud chittering noise followed by the sound of flesh tearing and a scream of agony brought Theo and his torch around. One of the Northmen was on the ground…covered in…large slug-like creatures nearly half as tall as a man. And when one pulled back away from the screaming man, it came with a strip of the Northman's flesh as if he'd been flayed.

"Fuck!" Theo shouted, drawing his dagger in his hand as he back peddled away from the dying and screaming man.

Hearing more chittering from behind, he whirled about just in time to duck as another slug flew through the air, it's maw open like a fucking lamprey, showing off rows of thick serrated teeth as it passed him by, only to land on the chest of the Riverlander, bringing the poor fucker to the ground where he was immediately swamped with other slugs coming up from the ground. "Fuck this!" The other Northman yelled, going from the pit wall.

"We can climb this! Just need to find the right f–! Oh fuck!" A piece of the pit wall gave way, revealing no less than two more of the slug creatures which immediately lurched out, one going for the man's face and the other going for his crotch.

"Fuck!" Theo yelled, dodging his way through the pit and trying to block out the sights and sounds of the others being torn to pieces. Holding the torch above his eyes, he looked to where the sorcerer had been standing, prepared to get on his very knees and beg for his life, only to find empty space.

"Fuck," he murmured, not caring as his fear drove him to piss his pants as he turned back to the pit. The light of the torch revealing a swarm of the slug creatures rising from the slime and coming towards him. "Fuck…Fuck…Fuck you, sorcerer!"

Resting with his back to a wall, Prince Oberyn allowed himself a slight grin as he watched the last of their plunder be loaded up onto the boats and skiff that were tied off in the harbor. While the sight of chests of gold, Valyrian steel, and other valuable loot was enough to make anyone grin, that was not the true reason why he felt the way he did. No, what was causing his mood was the young boy who had, without even seeming to have realized it, taken over command of the expedition while Nox was off doing whatever it was a sorcerer did in his free time.

He'd always been one for the more under privileged of the nobility, especially bastard children. Which was understandable considering he had seven bastard daughters of his own and, gods willing, hopefully more in the future. But he had an especially soft spot for those who did their best to rise above what the 'civilized' nobility thought their place was. His own squire back in Dorne, Daemon Sand, was one such bastard. His eldest daughters could also be considered amongst that group. And now, Jon Snow was with them as well, having earned the respect of the only true sorcerer of Westeros to the point where the man had taken the boy on as his official apprentice, a position akin to being a squire if his somewhat limited knowledge of the sorcerer and his ways meant anything. And, without a doubt, it was an honor and privilege just about any Lord or Lady in Westeros and Essos would kill to have. And, at least to Oberyn, the honor was well deserved. The boy did manage to not only hold off the flames of a dragon for gods only knew how long until Nox could return and put an end to the skirmish by killing whatever the hell it was that he'd been fighting, but he also managed to kill said dragon as well.

Thinking of the fight dampened his mood more than slightly. For a long time, Oberyn had considered himself one of the more knowledgeable men in all of Westeros, especially in matters of the arcane. Unlike many in the Citadel, he took his studies of the high mysteries seriously. He'd bore witness to a shadow priestess ritual. He knew of the warlocks of Qarth. And while he had not had the pleasure, or displeasure pending on one's viewpoint, of meeting the Faceless Men of Bravos, he knew the assassins used some form of magic to aid them. But his short time here, perusing some of the tomes of ancient Dragon Lords, reminded him of a lesson he'd long since forgotten. That no matter how much one thought they knew, there was always more out there. Whatever magic the dragons used, it was far beyond anything he'd ever seen or even heard of from other people. And watching just what Nox had done, well, that was so far beyond what even the Valyrians could probably do that he was relatively sure that had he been borne during the Valyrian Empire, the sorcerer would've either been given one of the highest seats in the Empire, or be considered a god reborn.

To say nothing of his fighting prowess, the man's power was far beyond anything Oberyn could have ever imagined. He was able to call down a storm that completely obliterated a fair portion of a city. Not destroy. Obliterate. And, as if that wasn't enough, he was able to stand in the midst of said storm and emerge without a single hair out of place. And when Oberyn added what he'd seen to the rumors he'd gathered from the battle of Pyke, rumors that he was now sure were understating Nox's capabilities, he was left with one conclusion. That Nox was, without a doubt, the most dangerous man in all of Westeros. Perhaps even Essos and Sothoryos, and all other land masses as well. And not just because of his power, but his mind as well. The man was a born strategist and a beyond excellent player of the Game, on the same level as his brother…or perhaps even greater. A thought that chilled Oberyn to the bone.

'My brother sent me out to learn what I can about Nox and report back to him. Specifically, if there is anything we can use to entice him to our way of thinking in the times to come,' Oberyn mused, glancing out of the corner of his eye at his new Valyrian spear. 'Well, after spending weeks with him, I can safely say that any rumors or stories about the man and his abilities are, if anything, understating his capabilities. And as for enticing him to our side, according the Northerners with looser lips, the sorcerer has a woman he cares deeply for waiting for him back in the North. He has the respect of the North for all his actions, which have placed him on the same level as Ned Stark in their eyes. And with this little venture into Valyria, he now has more wealth to his name than perhaps even Tywin-fucking-Lannister. In short, there is nothing we can do to entice him to leave the North. And facing him either on the field of battle or off is akin to suicide. But, perhaps, the answer to our problems lay not with the sorcerer himself. But rather…in someone who would be more…malleable. Someone young. Someone who doesn't stand to inherit anything from his father because he laid with a woman who was not his wife.'

The idea had merit. But it would take time. The sorcerer obviously cared for his new apprentice, though how deep that relationship went, he still wasn't sure. But if, within a few years, Jon Snow could wield even a fraction of the power Nox had, then he could change the course of a war with his mere presence.

'And there is the added benefit that Snow and his trueborn siblings are being raised as if they were truly siblings. Meaning there is love between them.' Oberyn mused, watching as Jon coordinated the efforts to finalize their departure. 'If there truly is family love between Snow and the future heir of the North, then that could be potentially leveraged if we were to gain control, or rather the allegiance, of the boy. I doubt controlling him will be an option, given who his mentor is. Though, the reverse is true as well. Any action taken against the North and his family would firmly put Snow against us. It will be a fine line to walk…but it is possible.'

"That is quite the pensive look for you, Prince Oberyn."

'Damn,' Oberyn cursed, just barely managing to keep himself seated instead of jumping up and grabbing his spear. 'I need to learn how he can sneak up on people so effectively. I know of many assassins that would do just about anything to have his level of skill.'

"I find myself in a pensive mood, sorcerer," Oberyn responded, slowly rising to his feet as he turned to the man he was starting to consider a friend. Or at least a man that he knew he couldn't afford not to befriend. "I take it you dealt with our wayward sailors."

"No," Nox responded, shaking his head. "I let the land take care of them. I just led them to the right spot."

Oberyn didn't really have much to say in response. The men tried to kill himself and take one of his daughters as a plaything. As far as he was concerned, whatever ill fate befell those fools was well deserved. "Well, as long as they're dealt with, I guess that is all that matters."

"Indeed," Nox agreed before turning towards the boats. "Is everything set?"

"Yes," Oberyn nodded. "The boats are filled to the point where they're about to capsize. And they're chained to the others so we can tow them out of this godforsaken land."

"Good," Nox nodded, his tone lighter than it had been for days. "Then let us get out of this hellhole and start discovering just what kinds of treasures we have managed to procure from this costly venture, shall we?"

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