Lothor had just left the Red Keep, now walking close to a training field for those who were directly sworn to the King. There were squires, wailing on wooden puppets, and knights beating eachother bloody with blunt weapons. He had always disliked the sight of such things, as it brought back unpleasant memories from his childhood, but most of them were nothing more then forgotten remnants of the past. Still playing the role of the frail old man, leaning on his ebony wood crutch, he spotted a much more interesting sight.

He had already heard about the new Kingsguard, a Peasebury, and if his sources were to be trusted an able fighter. The young man was new in court and did most likely know nothing of The Alchemists Guild and even less of Lothor.

I should talk to him, with all likelyhood an easy target for my tragic story, and hopefully one that will stay longer than Damion Lannister. Of course he had to marry the bloody Hightower girl. The Master of Whisperers is getting more allies every second, or atleast it seems that way

Lothor approached the Knight slowly, strongly leaning on his crutch, and spoke up in his best stuttering voice. "Good Ser, I dont think we have met before, so you must be the new Kingsguard." He bowed his head slightly, giving Peasebury an old man's warm smile" A great honor, yes indeed. If only every guard in the city were as able as the Seven of his Grace, everything would be so much simpler right now." He shook his head in false discontent. "Yes a shame, a shame indeed."

Lothor extended his quivering hand, feigning exhaustion from the mildest movements. "I am Lothor Florent, Grand Master of the Alchemists Guild. From which House do you hail, Ser?"