The Pale Upstart ( GOT System Fic )

 Beryn had been in the process of acquiring supplies. The man had apparently underprepared himself and had nearly run out of food. Of course, one could hunt or pick berries and fruits. However, that would have simply slowed him down. Not unlike Gideon, the man had not wanted to risk losing time. Who knew how the war would evolve?

 Contrarily to Gideon, however, he had wished to avoid this because he had a plan, a specific company to join. The Boar Company it was called. 

 " See, it's not like these boys are the most dangerous. The company isn't even the largest that's been recruited for this war. But the Boars, I know them. A lot of sellsword companies make you think they have a…flexible hierarchy so to speak." Beryn spoke as they left yet another farm. He had finally bought all that he wanted. Apparently, he was not all that confident in being able to join the Boar Company quickly. They could be anywhere in the whole Riverlands after all. 

 But he was certain this village was one of the few that still had somewhat acceptable prices. Best to buy supplies here than risk having to run after the sellswords all over the Riverlands. Then they would have to buy food again, but this time from villages far more affected by the war. 

 The man had also bought a horse. Not a strong or even particularly healthy-looking one. Simply a steed to be used as a transport until they reached the Boars. He had proven himself a good enough negotiator too. Gideon remembered buying horses under Lord Tyrell's order. He had to part with a lot more coins and now that he made the comparison in his mind…he had not even bought horses that looked any better than the one Beryn now rode on. 

 " That's a big fat lie if I ever heard one. See, whoever's in charge does not want to lose their position; it's a fairly basic idea,, isn't it? In that, sellsword companies do not differ much from being in a regular army. 'Cept you don't have to be led around like a dog by some prissy lord that could not even fight a pauper from King's landing." The man spat before continuing his explanation. He was both more intelligent and far more articulate than Gideon had expected from a sellsword. 

 " You join a company; if you're good enough, you climb a bit, but here's the thing. There's an obstacle in your path, " Beryn put a hand over his chest as if to stop him. " Ya don't get to go further. A little bit of recognition, but not too much. Only a few companies, like the Boars, really work by achievements. If you're good, you climb and you continue to climb until you're eventually the leader of that sorry lot."

 That was certainly a bit of knowledge that could help. He would have felt fairly foolish had he chosen to join a company that would have inevitably prevented his rise to its command. Those Boards sounded exactly like the kind of sellswords he wished to join. 

 " I don't know about you, but I'd like to be recognized for my fucking efforts. So the Boars is where I go. Where WE, are going." That seemed to have reminded the man of some unwanted memories. He scowled briefly before wiping the anger off of his face. 

 " Good plan, right?" Beryn asked him. He nodded without really thinking about it. He'd had no definitive plan before coming here, so this was better than nothing. Of course, the plan could change if the Boars proved less desirable than what Beryn had made them out to be. The great advantage when it came to sellswords was that he probably would not be forced into joining. There was no lord involved and he was no peasant constrained by the laws of his lands to fight for a rich cunt he had never seen. 

 " We'll have a problem, though, boy. You look scary, I already told ya. But you'll have to rely on more than just your looks to become someone amongst the Boars. And ya don't seem to me like….well like you could really fight as a sellsword does." Beryn said. Immediately he turned his head to level a look at the man, but he had to admit. He did not seem all that impressive. Even with what little Prowess he already had, he did not appear as a warrior, even to his own eyes. 

 But he had found, in that forest, and with that woman whose throat he had pierced…that he could fight. He could survive. He was not good yet, but he would be damned if he allowed his ability to be questioned that easily. 

 " I am passable enough. I can fight, I can kill. I do not think much more than that will be asked of me. " 

 Beryn chuckled, as though he had just shared a jape with him. 

 " You laugh, but I am no child no matter how much you insist on calling me, boy. Besides, all armies need thinkers. You don't win solely by relying on muscles and experience in the art of killing." Gideon added. Beryn ceased to smile. His eyes gained some steel as he got off his horse. 

 " I will be the judge of that. At least that will help me see whether I or not I'll need to protect yer pretty face if we ever come across some unsavoury fucks in the woods." Beryn spoke as his face hardened. He drew his sword and Gideon could confirm that it indeed seemed to be of good quality. He would say it was probably equal to his, maybe a smidge worse. 

 " Wait…Pretty face? What are you talking about?" Gideon asked. He was genuinely confused by the remark. He had heard a lot over the years, but the last time he had been called pretty….well, that had to be when he had visited the pleasure houses in Lys that one time. 

 Beryn looked just as lost as he was. 

 " What's there to be surprised by? You look like a prince, you numbskull. A valyrian prince too." 

 " I…don't. I look like a freak. I think by now it has been made quite clear to me. " Gideon retorted. He could not believe he was the one saying this for once. By this point, he had also unmounted his horse and wondered how he was even supposed to show Beryn his skill. The man was so much taller than he was; it was unfair, really. He knew he was not exactly a giant for his age, but still.

 " The hair's white. That's pretty. Ladies used to swoon at the sight of Targaryen hair, you know? Your eyes and skin are the bad part. You look both sick and like a demon. I say it's the novelty of it. Give me a few days and I won't even notice your eyes every time I look at you. Of course, some cunts might associate your…unique looks with some creatures spoken about in hushed tones by old ladies and children alike. But as far as your face is concerned? I've seen highborns that would look like toads if compared to you. That is good, too. Might come in handy with those willing to overlook the pink eyes. The skin we can probably do something about. " 

 He…He was stunned into silence. Seriously? He was pretty? Not even Lord's Tyrell family had said that to him….that was probably his own fault. He hated to receive compliments, always felt like they were sent his way to make him feel better. Like he was a whining puppy and those nice words were meant to shut him up. Would they have also said as such had he not made his hatred of compliments known?

 Beryn was most likely exaggerating. 

 " I-I assure you, nothing can be done about my skin. I have bathed in the Sun, day after day, whilst in Essos. The hue has never changed. But no matter!" He drew his own sword. " Let us go back to our duel!" He exclaimed. 

 Beryn stared at him with a mocking glint in his eyes. 

 " I am testing you, Gideon. This is no duel. If it was…" 

 *Whoosh* 

 He moved faster than Gideon even thought possible for a man of his size, thin as he was. His blade shot out like a wild beast, aiming for his throat. He parried it, but he found a boot stuck firmly in his stomach the next second. 

 " Ack!" 

 He was left heaving on the ground, spit flying out of his mouth as he clutched his belly. 

 " I would dispose of you before you could even comprehend my movements." Beryn bragged. He was fast certainly, but the man spoke as though he was the Kingslayer himself. How arrogant. 

 Gideon quickly shot back up and braced through the pain. This was nothing. He could and would fight still. The system popped before him. 

[ The champion has received a new quest!]

Objective: Impress the Sellsword Beryn Hardy. 

Reward: Access to the Sellsword Menu, +1 Prowess, +50 silver stags 

 Huh…that reminded me that he hadn't even looked at the resource after unlocking it. He had to get rid of this habit to overfocus on a singular goal and forget everything else. Especially in battle, this could cost him his life. Just as looking at the system instead of his enemy could. 

 He barely dodged a downward thrust and jumped away to gain some distance. He gained nothing. Beryn was immediately upon him the next second. He ducked under a swing but Beryn grabbed his head and smashed it against the ground with what felt like all the strength he had. He had turned his head around before he reached the dirt, so his nose was not broken but he still felt the damage. 

 He tried to quickly back up in order to headbutt the sellsword in his rise, but he hit nothing. Beryn was beside him; and his sword? 

 " Argh!" He howled in pain, clutching his left cheek as the blood seeped through his fingers. It stung. He hated stinging pain, it was lasting and constant. What he hated even more so was Beryn's cocky smile.

He took a step forward and swung his blade forward. Beryn sidestepped it and his arm lashed out. Gideon's sword clashed with the Sellsword's and to his surprise, he was able to push the blade away. He planned to follow with an attack of his own but quickly understood why it had been so easy when Beryn roughly stepped on his right foot.

 He grit his teeth and tried to drive his sword's pommel into the side of the man's face but Beryn seized the stretched arm under his, then he–

 *Schlick*

 Beryn's sword cut through both fabric and flesh as it nicked his side. He could tell it was on purpose as he could have easily sliced far deeper. He was shoved away right as he sent forward and hit nothing but air. Again, the cocky smile attracted his eyes. The little arrogant fuck.

 He saw red and charged recklessly. That did surprise the man, who probably hadn't expected him to get angry that quickly. He felt an elbow hit his back and winced but trudged on. He wrapped his arms around Beryn's legs and swept him off his feet. 

 *Thump*

 No sooner had the man hit the ground than Gideon was already trying to pierce through his right eye with his blade. His head moved right in time and in one swift motion, Gideon was the one with his back against the ground. A fist hit his face and he had stars in his vision. Another collided against his jaw…and then another one. 

 He took at least four or five punches before he gathered his wits back. He found the sword he had briefly lost in the struggle and thrust at one of Beryn's hands as it came down. The man recoiled before he could lose a finger or get his hand skewered. He smiled and opened his mouth to speak but found it full of hair as Gideon's skull met his jaw. 

 " Fuck!" 

 Beryn got off of him and the pale young man stood with great difficulty. The Sellsword saw beneath the leather vest that was coming undone and right above the collar of his linen shirt, one of the wounds he had sustained a few days prior. 

 " Met with some troubles before this handsome sellsword, aye? Did you win, boy?" 

 Blood had entered his vision but Gideon still smiled. It must have made for quite an ugly sight with how badly Beryn had fucked up his face. 

 " I did, naturally…with some help" He answered. Couldn't take the accomplishment as his own, really. He would have died rather pathetically without the Crownmen's help. 

 Beryn lowered his sword and sighed. 

 " Well, not this time. It is your loss, Gideon. You'll be too weak to travel safely if we go further. And clearly, you lack the basic skills to cut it as a warrior. I don't know what you expect exactly, but it's a war we're heading to join. A war, boy." Beryn spoke harshly in a chiding tone. He reminded him of Lord Tyrell whenever the man would repeat the words of his forever unimpressed mother, Lady Olenna Tyrell. 

 He wanted to refute the loss, but he had been handled like a child. Couldn't even be angry at being called a boy repeatedly. He was one. 

 " I know what war is. I have experienced, if only as a child trying to run from it. As a babe being taken from his parents to be sold as a slave too. Must have been right before the war started here." He spoke with some difficulty. Beryn's face did not soften at his words. Most would often show pity for him, well, except those who despised him for his nature, of course. 

 " Well, even if you have, it is different to live through it as nothing more than a meat shield holding a sword. That's what we will be once we join the Boars. When I, too, was a boy, I participated in a war when I knew next to nothing about it. I survived, and for nearly five years afterwards…I cried myself to sleep." Beryn told him. 

 The surprise must have shown on his face as Beryn laughed. The man watched him sit down before he continued. 

 " I cannot claim I ever had nightmares about the first lives I claimed. Some do…most, from what I have heard. I was ready to do so before I even set out. I should have readied myself to see my own lifeless body and wake up in a cold sweat during the night. " Beryn's seemed almost nostalgic as he reminisced. 

 " I always took to war better than most. But when that fear of death hits you, boy…You just never get used to it I think. I don't at least, that's for certain. I'd wager most lords don't either…but that's only because these cunts take less risks than us poor sods, eh?" 

 Gideon wanted to speak, but he knew not what to say. Could he even claim that he would be alright? A part of him assured him that he could brave all dangers for his ambitions. That his heart was so set on the prize he could easily ignore his fears. 

 That was merely a lie and the other part knew it. Beryn spoke in his stead. 

 " I'll try to part with some wisdom on the road, to get you prepared and all. S'not my fault if you die during the very first battle though boy. So don't come haunting me afterwards if it happens." The sellsword joked and that did force a smile to bloom on his bruised face. 

 " Might as well train you a bit, too, while I'm at it. " Beryn added as some sort of mockery, but he did not sound genuine. 

 " Why? We might be joining the same group, but you owe me nothing." Gideon questioned him. How many had taken advantage of him with promises like this one? 

 " Why?" Beryn pondered, a finger over his mouth as he did so. Words flashed in Gideon's vision. 

[ The champion has failed the quest!] 

[ The quest 'Impress the Sellsword' does not possess a time limit or a failure condition. It will reappear when the champion meets the requirements again. ]

[ The rewards for completing a quest that was already failed will not change unless the quest specifically presents such a condition ] 

 How kind of the Gods. 

 " Well, I don't got to answer to you, now do I? But if you had to know, sellsword-to-be. I'd say I am looking for someone I can somewhat trust. Once inside the Boars, we'll meet all kinds of bastards. Can't say I trust most sellswords. Wouldn't even trust myself truth be told. But you?" He looked at him, for a painfully long time. 

 " Yeah, I think I could trust you. Because, and I speak from my heart here…You don't strike me as the kind to even be capable of betrayal." 

 How wrong that was. But Gideon could read eyes well, so long as they weren't enough for his sucky vision to become a problem. He could tell right here and then. Beryn Hardy was the kind of man to state that he was speaking from his heart…

 And just outright lie as easily as one would breathe.