The Great Secret No One Will Care About
Ghulan Haytham was drinking in a tavern at Partora when he saw a young nobleman preparing for his adulthood with a lot of good wine. He carried a strange eye on a pendant and his noble clothes had the colors that Ghulan knew so well: the white, red and silver of the Serpentis from the House of Avamar. Ghulan's mother served the glorious conqueror of Sirion always he visited what was the Sultanate. He remembered when he was just a child and crept through the shadows and listened to the brief discussion:
Erik Eyolf: "Give the woman whatever she needs... at this point, my friend, any child in this continent may claim to be mine."
Any child. Anyone.
Ghulan waited until the young nobleman needed to empty his bladder, the time when his mentor, already drunk, chose to continue getting drunk. He pushed the door and the young man as an unfortunate accident, apologizing briefly before closing the door behind him to grab his dagger and cut the throat of the unfortunate legitimate son. Maybe a legitimate one.
Ghulan: "Hush now, little brother..."
The clothes were useless now, but he took them anyway and tangled them until it was possible to hide them reasonably before leaving a naked and lifeless body bleeding to death in the midst of urine. Ghulan had to leave the place in a hurry, but if he wanted to realize his plans, he would need help. And he sought where only a mentor could help. With a pat on the back he shook the drunk old man and whispered in his ear:
Ghulan: "You are responsible for a dead Serpentis. I am the Serpentis now. If you do not want to Gormok find you and punish you, you better make it work..."
The old man's eyes widened, but his captor touched the tip of the dagger in his flaccid belly and in a blink was dragging him out of the tavern. That night Ghulan had become Althirn Eyolf Serpentis, the one with Erik's left eye in a pendant, a sack of gold and an old mentor in his pockets to make all his plan to work a little before someone finally discover him... to put his miserable life to an end. Until then, he would enjoy the pleasures of a noble life. After all, as far as he knew, he could even be a son of the bastard who could not keep his pants on.
