"What if we reduce the dosage? Fill small jars or vials with Wildfire, attach them to arrows, and shoot them. Think that would work?"
A player with the ID The_Carpenter_Emperor suggested this.
"You'd need heavy arrows for that, like the ones used by the Manchu Qing archers. I don't think they exist in the game yet," Dawn replied, turning to look at the player.
"If they don't exist, I can make them. I do a bit of woodworking IRL. Forget heavy arrows—give me the materials, and I'll build you a siege ladder." The_Carpenter_Emperor's words made everyone's eyes light up.
Hidden talent, brother.
"Good. Brother Carpenter will research heavy arrows. If it works, I'll send you a 10,000 RMB Red Packet IRL, and I'll try to get you a Bronze Chest in-game later."
Minister_of_Excuses, having finished his Napoleon cosplay, returned to join the conversation.
The_Carpenter_Emperor didn't care much about the Red Packet or chests. He just wanted a workshop where he could build big, crazy contraptions.
Now, it seemed this game was the perfect workshop. No one would ever ask him again:
"Why is a carpenter building a siege engine?"
"Even if we can't replicate Hawkeye's explosive arrows perfectly, having heavy arrows will be useful against armored knights later on." Dawn nodded, signaling that since the guy was here, they should let him try.
"Brother Dawn, aren't we the foreigners here?" No_Cure_For_Stupid teased from the side.
---
Viserys, watching the players through the interface, looked at the two guilds holding down the fort and sighed.
As the saying goes: Gods or ghosts, everyone's putting on a show.
Daenerys walked silently into the room.
"Viserys?" seeing her brother seemingly lost in thought, she called out softly.
Startled by Daenerys's silent approach, Viserys turned around with a dark expression to look at his sister.
"Someone is here to see you." Daenerys wasn't afraid of Viserys's dark face anymore. In the Princess's eyes, her brother, now hopeful for the Restoration, wouldn't lose his temper so easily.
The "Sleeping Dragon" can stay asleep, she thought.
"He calls himself Jorah Mormont. The old man who gave us bread brought him here," Daenerys answered.
Jorah Mormont? Ser Jorah the Andal has come to go undercover? Viserys raised an eyebrow. He asked about the old man who was outwardly kind but secretly acted as Illyrio's spy:
"Is the old man detained?"
"He tried to take me hostage when I went to greet them, but the Unsullied killed him with their spears." Daenerys knew exactly who her brother was asking about.
The Princess lowered her eyes as she spoke. She didn't want to discuss the killing of someone who had shown them kindness, even if it was fake.
"And how did our Ser Jorah react?" Viserys nodded. A pity. The Unsullied are too rigid. Killing him on the spot means I can't interrogate him.
"The Knight did not resist. He disarmed himself. He said he came to pledge allegiance to the True Dragon, the King of the Seven Kingdoms, not to bow to Illyrio. He asked Your Grace not to misunderstand. Those were his exact words."
Daenerys twisted her pale hands together nervously.
"Mhm." Viserys acknowledged, then looked at his sister. "Then invite Ser Jorah in to see me."
A middle-aged, burly man walked into the room, head bowed, following Daenerys.
He had swarthy skin, plenty of body hair, and was balding. His ragged chainmail couldn't hide his strong, sturdy frame.
This was the King's first impression of the vassal he had never met.
"Your Grace. Forgive me for appearing before you in such an undignified state. As an exile, penniless and destitute, I could not afford decent armor or a tunic."
Ser Jorah apologized for his filthy appearance, then respectfully lowered his eyes, awaiting the King's judgment.
"A true King does not judge a Knight's loyalty and courage by the poverty of his dress."
The King's words made the Knight look up in surprise. He couldn't see the King's face clearly because the sunlight streaming through the window was blinding.
"Loyalists are few, and the King's path is faint. When everyone else is shouting 'Long live the Usurper,' you are the first Knight to come to me.
"So, Ser, House Targaryen says: We are moved by your willingness to serve, even in your time of need."
Viserys stepped forward, seemingly eager. He helped Jorah up, his hands resting on the Knight's muddy shoulders without a care for the dirt.
The Knight finally saw the King's face clearly and was stunned speechless.
This is somewhat different from the Viserys that man described.
"Your Grace, I was exiled for my crimes. I am not a man of honor. The people of the Seven Kingdoms no longer consider me a Knight." Ser Jorah was touched, but when he opened his mouth, his voice was filled with desolation.
But the King looked at him with sincere eyes and said:
"The Usurper stripped you of your knighthood. But here, before your True King—Viserys III of House Targaryen, King of the Seven Kingdoms, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men—I shall knight you myself."
Under Jorah's moved gaze, the King said:
"Kneel, Jorah Mormont."
Under Daenerys's watchful eyes, Jorah Mormont obeyed, just as he had done years ago on the Iron Islands. But he could clearly feel that the two instances were different.
He should have done as that man said—commanded his ears to deceive himself in this situation. But he had suffered enough of the world's cold. He longed for the warmth of summer.
"Jorah of House Mormont. In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave." Viserys drew his sword, moving the blade from Jorah's right shoulder to his left.
In Daenerys's memory, Viserys had owned swords more than once. The sword was not a new possession. But today, he finally seemed worthy of the blade, just like the brother she had never met.
Ser Willem always said Prince Rhaegar was special. When he sang, he charmed thousands of noble ladies. When he wielded a sword, no knight on the battlefield was braver.
A fine sword befits a hero, Ser Willem said.
Now, my only remaining brother, Viserys, is finally worthy of a sword, just like Rhaegar.
Blood and Fire are one, Daenerys silently recited the House words.
"In the name of the Stranger, I charge you not to fear death."
"Arise, Ser Jorah Mormont, Knight of the Seven Kingdoms."
Viserys finished the prayer and the knighting ceremony.
Jorah stood up, his face flushing red. It seemed he didn't need to do anything else to redeem his bullsht crimes.
I AM a Knight. I am a Knight anointed by the King of the Seven Kingdoms!
Die, Usurper! Die on a woman's belly! Die, Stark fool! May you freeze in the cold winter! Die, perfumed eunuch! May you perish in your game of thrones!
Seeing the man's bull-like neck turning red as a hot iron, Viserys smirked inwardly.
Heh. Think you can resist my Chinese-style Charisma build?
"Ser Jorah, I have a gift I wish to bestow upon you, as a token of our first meeting as liege and vassal."
With a thought from Viserys, the Fireboy quietly materialized an iron chest in the corner of the room, unnoticed by the two occupants.
Under Daenerys's curious gaze, Viserys carried the iron chest to Jorah and said:
"Open it, Ser. I swore an oath that I would gift this to the first Knight who pledged loyalty to the True Dragon. Now, it is yours."
The Knight was deeply moved. He opened the chest, looked at the gift inside, and his eyes widened.
White armor. White scales. A white cloak. And a magnificent longsword.
That is the symbol of the Kingsguard!
The Princess covered her mouth in surprise, thinking to herself.