Sigmund walked for two days now, resting when night fell. The villager had said the road was a days ride away but that is just it, he didn't have a horse, so he was way slower. He hunted to feed himself, it was easy. A bit of necromantic energy, spread thinly through an area and all creatures with too little life energy dropped dead. He got Rabbits, mice, small birds and a whole lot of insects. He had eaten plenty of each of them. He sadly only had a simple fire, no real kitchen, so roasted meat was all he could get but it was fine.
He had finally reached the road, to see a carriage being attacked by outlaws. Dead knights were lying all around it and about five bandits were counting coins.
"Ah, another high and mighty lord comes our way", one of the bandits had spotted him, "Empty your bag and we might let you live. And that sword too, it looks expensive, probably better than these too"
The bandit pointed to his own sword, which was poorly made and already rusting.
Without a word, Sigmund drew his sword, the white metal gleaming in the sunlight.
"Don't you see the dead knights? Fighting us is a dumb idea", the bandit leader said, grinning menacingly, "you are only one man and not even wearing armor- I almost thought you were a maester with those-"
Within seconds, he closed in and slit the leader's throat. He gurgled on his own blood, the light in his eyes fading quickly, spraying his white robes with the crimson liquid.
"Fuck- he killed Gerald! Kill 'em boys!", another bandit called and the four bandits drew their swords, all rusting or shoddily made. One of them, a fat fella with thin, brown hair swung his sword at him with all the grace of a rhino, still, there was some skill behind those movements. He had been instructed with the sword.
Sigmund blocked the strike and side stepped another bandit's blade. He danced around each of their strikes. They were good, he could see how they killed those knights but he was better. With each clash of swords, their weapons chipped further and further, sparks flew and eventually, the fat bandit's blade shattered under the stress. Icebreaker was completely unharmed. With a stab, he pierced the fat one's heart. Two down, three more to go. He stepped to his right, dodging a slash by a hair's edge.
Sigmund cut one's achilles tendon. He fell to the ground, screaming in pain, tears forming in his eyes. With a quick thrust at the gut, he was out of the fight and would soon bleed out. Three down, two to go or rather, one to go, as one of the bandits ran away, screaming bloody murder.
The second bandit hower was more courageous than his coward friend.
"just us two now", Sigmund's smile grew wider as swords clashed and sparks flew. The bandit, a big fella, grunted, trying to disarm him with all his might but no matter how much he pressed, Sigmund's grip didn't falter, not one bit. As their blades were locked, Sigmund -with his free hand- gripped the bandit's arm and channeled magic through his palm. Cold emitted from his hand, causing frost burn and the guy to drop his sword in pain. Gaining the upper hand, he gripped him by the throat and concentrated. With his water magic, he could feel the blood flowing through his veins and he stopped the circulation. It wasn't long before he fell unconscious from lack of blood flow. With a precise stab, the man died.
Sigmund smiled. Oh, he loved a good fight!
He willed the blood on his clothes to evaporate with magic and wiped off his own, white blood from the smaller cuts which he had gotten during the fight. Looking through the bandit's pockets, he found a few silver stags and copper stars. In the carriage, he found the corpse of a young child, barely 13 and an older man, both with blonde hair, which had been stained red with blood. In their belongings, he found a few golden dragons and a few letters. They talked about a tourney being held at King's landing to celebrate the birth of the youngest Targaryen prince after a mountain of miscarriages. It was a joyous thing, apparently… too bad that these two -lord Appleton and his oldest son apparently- would never see it.
Sigmund took one of the horses and rode due north, along the stone road. He traveled for a day till the next group of bandits came, three of them, "Give us everything you got and your death will be painless", the ugliest of the three said, he had yellow ,crooked teeth and an underbite.
"I don't feel like dying today", he said as he dismounted, drawing his sword.
"a painful death it is", the ugly one drew his ax and came rushing at him. He was way less trained than the previous bandits he had met, swinging his ax blindly. A single slash ended his life. His friends weren't any better. One tried to shoot him with a bow but he cleaved it in two with his sword before stabbing him. The other was quickly dispatched as well. They had little coin on them but the bow was of good quality, probably stolen from someone they had killed, so he took it, storing it in his bag together with the arrows.
He once again had to use his powers to clean himself.
He rode on, for another day or two before the forest stopped and he could see the city in the distance. A sprawling city built around a keep of red stone atop a hill. The city was separated from him via a river, with boats there to carry merchants across. He could smell the city, almost as soon as he could see it. It reeked of shit and decay.
He approached one of the ferrymen and paid him a few copper stars to ferry him across the river.
"New to king's landing?" asked the elderly ferryman, smiling at him with a crooked smile, "here for the tourney, I assume?"
"Yeah, I've been on a long journey from far away to attend", Sigmund explained, "does it always smell like this?"
"It gets less smelly in the winter. The summer heat cooks everything inside, including all the shit piling up. If you are looking for a place to stay, ser, I can recommend you the snorting dragon on Eel alley, good and cheap", the crooked teethed man smiled, "right next to a brothel too"
Sigmund sneered. He was a noble ice elf, he would never go to some whore house. Either the man didn't pick up on his disgust or he chose to ignore it, either way, they made it to the other side and he payed the good man.
On this side of the river were merchant ships all around, people were loading and unloading vessels and there were even a few street gamblers, the kind that cheat people of their hard earned cash. He had fallen for them all too often on his journeys and had developed a good sense for the scams.
Sigmund walked past the gate and into the city. There were many stands with seafood, fish, eels, clams. The seafood smell almost drowned out the smell of shit… almost.
He walked past it, towards a long road with blacksmiths and armorers, here there were fewer beggars, though they still could be seen from time to time. Past that street was a hill, on top of which he could see what he assumed to be Eel alley, as there were many inns and taverns. He hiked up the hill and walked right past the snorting dragon(the only inn with a nearby brothel), over to one of the nicer inns. He had the money, why be stingy. He landed at the Singing flower, just as day turned to night. Walking in, it was warm inside, heavily perfumed to keep out the stench, though it only barely did so and people were eating and drinking inside.
He sat at a table and ordered food, roast hog.
It tasted divine after having gone several days of eating only roast rabbit or rat.
"You here for the tourney?", the bar wench asked, she was a girl of 20 with red hair and freckles.
"Yes- I heard about it and decided to participate"
"You have that Valyrian look… did you come here from Essos? There are few of Valyrian descend that live in westeros", the girl handed him another drink as she saw him finish his last. A good, red wine, sweet in taste.
"Yes, I come from far east. At first I wanted to just come here to start a new life, but then I heard about the tourney and decided to try my hand. We had tourneys where I lived too, always great fun"
Later that night, he sank into the bedding, falling into a good, dreamless sleep.