The night wind blew cold on the desert, and many of the caravan guards huddled beside the pack horses for warmth while the rest tried getting some sleep under the fluttering noise of their wind whipped tents. A small distance off the main encampment a small fire blazed.
"Oh Great and Mighty Mardook," one man at the fire intoned.
"Marduk" corrected the other man.
"Oh Great and Mighty Marduk. Protect us in your savage lands. Grant blessing upon this lowly caravan that we make shitloads of money. Make us filthy, filthy rich. I'm thinking cartloads of silver. In exchange, I offer you this wine." The man speaking spilt a few drops on the sand.
"I think you're supposed to pour the whole goblet out."
"Dammit Dirk, we're getting low on booze. He's a bloody god!! Can't he make his own wine with a snap of his fingers?"
"I think its the idea, Bryggan," Dirk answered.
"Oh damn," Bryggan said, "very well." And he poured out the rest of the goblet.
"So, what are you going to do with all the silver we're gonna make on this run?" Dirk asked.
"Hmmm. Don't really know. I sorta had it all as high king. And honestly, I found most of the luxuries quite boring. Feather beds are too soft, I'd take a bed roll on the ground any day; them fine wines and fancy foods give me heart burn- I like my sour red and hard bread. And all those bloody servants. Damn, they got under my skin. Not a moment's peace with them about. And them bloody large palaces! I tell you..."
"Sir!" he was interrupted by a messenger, who handed him a parchment then left.
Bryggan opened it and perused its contents by the firelight. "Hmm", he grunted, "well, well, well."
"What is it?" Dirk asked.
"I don't know, I can't read!" shouted Bryggan, throwing the letter at him.
Dirk picked it up. "Wow", he said, "the guild master was attacked in Curaw. The Wardens have declared war on House Stark. In fact, they called her a whore."
"BEL'S BEARD!!!" Bryggan shouted, punching the sand.
"Um, I think you meant Marduk's beard- we're in the desert."
"Oh, damn, right," Bryggan said, "does Marduk have a beard?"
"Maybe 'Marduk's mustache' would be an appropriate curse."
"Well, by whatever god's whatever facial hair, this is no good. The Wardens of the North have apparently decided to become the Wardens of Everywhere. Such ambitions at empire building! Who on earth could have inspired that?!?!"
"And there is the insult to Not So Innocent Virgin's chastity," Dirk added.
"Yes. Oh when Albus and Sitvek hear what they said about their moth... about this lovely lady, they will demand blood!"
"So," smiled Dirk, "are we going to keep trading?"
"No dammit!," Bryggan snarled, then yelled to one of the caravan guards. "Order the men to mount up! We strike camp and leave immediately!"
"Fuck off!" the caravan guard replied.
"Oh, ok," Bryggan said, chastised, "we leave tomorrow."
