The next day, Sigmund spent the day exploring king's landing and shopping for some clothing. Robes weren't as common here as they had been in his previous world.
He walked into a tailor shop in one of the many streets. Walking in, he saw a young man standing in there. Wool and silk in various colours were dotted across the room, with some leather too, "Ah good ser, what can I do for you?"
The man smiled politely.
Sigmund looked over the fabrics, "I need some daywear. It needs to be good quality, white and blue"
"Quite certainly good ser. Do you wish it to be wool? Silk?"
"What do the locals tend to buy?" He asked, his fingers travelling along the silk shirts set up as a show.
"In king's landing, most buy wool or other fabrics for the ladies' dresses. Silk is a more southern choice" the man chuckled under his breath, his mind seemingly wandering to a funny moment.
"I'll take a wool shirt and a pair of pants then" he nodded, taking out a few silver coins, "will these be enough?"
Greed shone in the tailor's eyes, "for one shirt and pair of pants? I-", he caught himself, "that barely covers it"
Sigmund knew he was lying but he wasn't short on cash and really, he didn't care.
The tailor took his measurements and said, "come back in a day and I'll have that ready, good ser"
"Very well…", Sigmund walked through the city, "you there, can you tell me where the tourney will take place? And when exactly it will take place?"
"Over at the king's gate are the tourney grounds. As far as I know, the tourney begins in three days. A shame that there won't be any jousting this year", the merchant grumbled, "a good joust is the cdnter heart of a tourney but no one listens to good old Vincent!"
Jousting was never his forte anyways, back when he was in the academy (before he knew he was a dragon soul) he had been kicked out of riding classes more often than he could count. By now, he was decent but he would never joust, fearing his past luck returning and him breaking his neck, "Erm- quite certainly… if you could direct me to the king's gate then?"
"Sure, sure, whatever, it is down that street, then right till you are at the alley with the blue painted house, from there you just have to turn left and you will be at the king's gate"
"Why thank you", he handed him a silver coin and went on his way.
He whistled as he walked through the busy streets, to the alley with the blue house, just as he described and he turned. He could see the king's gate through the alley, just as he had said but there was also a thug, a brutish looking man with sunken in, brown eyes. He had a knife ready, "stop right there, money bags, empty your bag and no one needs to get hurt"
Sigmund stared at this man and fell silent, before chuckling weakly, becoming ever louder until he was at a full cackling, "hahahaHAHAHAHA! Oh, this is just too hilarious! You will be my first minion in this world"
He moved and disarmed the man. He was a common thug, nothing he couldn't handle. Then, he gripped his head between Sigmund's palms and poured pure, necromantic energy directly into his brain, chanting in a forgotten language. It was a pretty powerful spell. It turned the mind undead, under his control, whilst leaving the rest of it alive. The victim could still go about their day normally but they were now supernaturally loyal and he could see through their eyes. It was some powerful magic which took him 30 years of trial and error to perfect. Use too much necromantic energy and the brain turned to mush, followed by the organs failing one after the other until what was left was just an ordinary zombie, too little and your control over them slowly weakened until they were no longer under his control anymore. But he had had time to perfect the spell. With enough willpower, the victim could also try and resist but this urchin wasn't particularly strong of will.
After a minute or two, the transformation was complete. To the outside, only one thing had changed, his sunken in eyes had turned to a deep, unnerving red.
He kneeled before Sigmund, "I am yours, my liege!"
"Tell me your name"
"I am Archibald, my liege"
"Okay, drop that whole 'my liege' thing"
"Yes milord"
That was… better, he supposed, "good, go on with your life, if I ever need you, you will know it"
"Yes milord"
Archibald left into a side alley and Sigmund continued his way towards the king's gate. There was a booth where you could go and register for the competitions. There was the all at once melee, the 1 on 1 bracket fight and the archery contest. He signed up for all three, giving them the ten gold entry fee.
"Just your name milord?"
"Sigmund, Sigmund Schneehaupt"
"And… how do you spell that?" He scratched the back of his head with his quill, smearing ink into his hair.
"S C H N E E H A U P T"
"Very well, the archery contest is in three days at noon, the melee is the day after and the bracket fighting will round out the final day. At the end of a challenge, the winner will be allowed to name their queen of love and beauty. Normally, only the jousting champion is allowed to do that but since we have no jousting…"
"What is a 'queen of love and beauty?", he cocked his head to one side.
"Haven't been to a tourney before have you? Well, the champion gets to place a flower crown on the head of any girl or woman in the audience, showing that they are what the champion desires"
Quite the archaic custom but he had seen stranger. The rules emposed by the mad god were… quite something.