As you variously find yourselves in Myr’s Great Red Temple, the expatriate winesink “The Ninepenny,” in a poppy den of ill-repute, and en route to the Myrish Outpost of the Golden Company, you stop to reflect on the events of the last ten hours. Several of you conferred with Allyria’s grandmother, Golnaza of Myr, about the hostile actions of the Demalion Arghurys and the possible involvement of that great Cartel with the Order of the Crimson Tongue. While the venerable woman insisted that one mustn’t make waves in the relations between cartels, she promised she would look into the bad faith that might be displayed by their public affiliation with assassins.
Allyria continued to plot against the party, letting both Hakkad and Golnaza in on their attempts to imprison her, though no action is yet forthcoming and the party remains unaware of her perfidy.
Kaidan found her way to the Ninepenny—a tavern frequented by exiled Westerosi. She stumbled onto a dice game between a community that knew one another well. But while jovial Alfyn Bole, starry-eyed Harys Mullendore, and rakish Fenton Flint all seemed to find her company charming, their leader, the sullen Ser Artys Mertyns was driven to rage by her forwardness. He and his bodyguard, Lucan the Squire left abruptly. Kaidan was later informed that Ser Artys is the chief retainer to the Argent Prince, and generally not a man to upset. They also spoke with great relish of a tourney to be hosted by House Civia.
Rivington also made inroads with the noble house, having met its scion, Volorys Civia while both were indulging in a smokeable tar derived from the poppy—apparently the custom in Essos. Volorys liked Rivington’s wry sense of humor, and invited him to sit and watch the tourney on the morrow, though he enforced the caveat that Rivington must not mention how they met.
Allyria, Mellaro, and Esje traveled to the Great Red Temple of Myr to consult Allyria’s old mentor, the Red Priest Black Rolph. They were warned at the Nightfires, by fellow acolyte Thoros that Rolph had been especially strange of late. True to Thoros’ warning, the High Priest gave you truly strange advice, seemingly speaking heresy in his mention of gods other than R’hllor and the Great Other. It is these gods, he claims, who are represented in the seastone figurine you found in Serala’s budoir. He left you only with the chilling assertion that, whatever they are, “they are not our gods.”
It is currently 9pm on the evening of the 3rd day of the 11th month of the 277th year of the Targaryen dynasty, and, though some of you are in addled and altered states, you remain in otherwise good health.