"But this is a sword bearing the heraldry of House Lannister." Ian gently ran his thumb over the golden lion's head pommel, which radiated arrogance and power. He smirked.
"A brother of the Night's Watch has no House," Ayden interrupted Ian, his face solemn. "For a man in black, names mean nothing."
"You mean this sword... originally belonged to a man of the Watch?"
"Exactly."
"Then what is the relationship between that Watchman and this Derville?"
"You don't need to know that." The old blacksmith shook his head. "If you accept this task, I will pay you a commission of 3 Gold Dragons. Furthermore, once you join the Watch, Derville will look out for you. As I said, he is a senior ranger."
Holy shit! 3 Gold Dragons just for delivery? Are you made of money? Ian instinctively glanced around, the thought of robbing the smithy flashing through his mind.
But he dismissed the crazy idea a second later.
This was the central square of Harrenhal. Even if House Whent was in decline, a starving camel was still bigger than a horse. A broke hedge knight couldn't just shit on their heads in their own castle.
"Alright," Ian sheathed the heraldic sword and hung it at his waist, his expression serious. "It's a deal. I promise to deliver the sword. I swear it on my honor." I already told you I have no honor.
Hearing Ian's reply, the old blacksmith smiled. He counted out 6 Gold Dragons and 120 Silver Stags for Ian—3 Dragons for the commission, the rest for the gear.
Ian swept the coins into his pouch, walked out of the smithy, and untied his horse.
Thinking back on the mission, a sarcastic smile curled his lips.
Even if he wasn't planning to ambush merchants in Saltpans, he wouldn't have touched a weird quest like this with a ten-foot pole!
Are you kidding me? A blacksmith in Harrenhal randomly pulls out a Lannister sword and asks a stranger to deliver it to a Night's Watchman? And claims the sword belonged to another Watchman?
There were too many red flags. The relationship between the original owner and Derville, their connection to House Lannister, and how a Lannister sword ended up with a smith in the Riverlands...
If Ian were playing a PC game, as a lore nerd, he would dig until he found every secret.
But right now? He preferred keeping his head attached to his neck.
Secrets usually came with danger. Especially secrets involving House Lannister. One wrong move, and he'd be buried along with whatever family scandal this sword represented.
Shaking his head, Ian looked down at the heraldic sword he had just swindled... err, temporarily taken into custody.
This was a massive haul!
Leaving aside the mysterious backstory, the sword itself was worth a fortune. Judging by the craftsmanship, it cost at least 10 Gold Dragons to make, and its resale value would be double that.
The only problem was: How do I sell it? Ian fell into thought again.
Undoubtedly, the most valuable part of the sword—aside from the fine steel—was the golden lion's head pommel. It was a work of art.
But that was the sigil of House Lannister, the richest and most powerful family in Westeros. In an era where heraldry was identity, no noble would dare forge another House's sigil.
Naturally, no one would be crazy enough to buy a stolen Lannister sword.
In other words, this sword was valuable, but extremely hot property.
" maybe that's why the old smith dared to give it to me?" Ian mused.
He had wondered why Ayden trusted a stranger so easily.
His initial conclusion was that Ayden bought the "joining the Night's Watch" story. After all, why would a young knight sell his armor unless he was truly desperate or truly pious? To the smith, Ian was a righteous, filial young man.
But now it seemed Ayden also banked on the fact that Ian couldn't sell the sword.
"Can I melt the lion head down? No. If it's solid gold, maybe. But if it's gold-plated, melting it ruins the value." Ian dismissed the idea.
"Wait a minute... why the hell do I have to sell it?" Ian suddenly slapped his forehead. "Isn't my main goal right now to change my starting appearance and disguise myself as someone who couldn't possibly be a player?"
Ask yourself: Is there any identity less likely to be a player than a knight of House Lannister?
This gold-plated heraldic sword was clearly the work of a master smith. Even within House Lannister, only someone with status would carry it.
This meant Ian now held the key prop to roleplay a Lannister.
All he needed was some fine clothes and a better horse, and he could pull off the "Lannister Knight" persona perfectly.
Why bother pretending to be a caravan guard?
"No, no, no. There's still a flaw." Ian shook his head. "I'm facing players, not NPCs. If I pretend to be a trueborn Lannister, and they ask for my parents' names, lying gets complicated."
Sure, they might not ask. But if they did? Refusing to answer angrily would just make him look suspicious.
So, was there a way to avoid that question entirely?
Looking at the sword again, Ian smiled. He had an idea.
This was a Bastard Sword.
Also known as a hand-and-a-half sword, it combined the thrusting speed of a knightly sword with the cutting power of a greatsword. Because it was neither one nor the other, it was called a "bastard."
So why shouldn't he pretend to be a bastard too?
After all, who is more secretive about their parentage than a bastard?
Usually, if you introduce yourself with a surname like Snow or Rivers (Note 1), people know not to pry.
Unless they want to fight you. In Westeros, asking a bastard about his mother is practically the same as calling her a whore to his face.
This perfectly dodged any probing questions from other players.
Moreover, "Bastard" wasn't a selectable background option for players. Following the logic that players would use their assigned backgrounds for cover, no one would suspect a bastard was a player.
"Ian Hill. A bastard of a high-ranking Lannister. I cannot speak his name for the sake of his honor."
With that thought, Ian turned and walked toward a nearby tailor's shop.
---
Note 1: In Westeros, noble bastards are given surnames based on their region of birth:
Flowers: The Reach
Hill: The Westerlands
Pyke: The Iron Islands
Rivers: The Riverlands
Sand: Dorne
Snow: The North
Stone: The Vale
Storm: The Stormlands
Waters: The Crownlands