The Dirt Sheet

Oh.

Ultimately, someone like Ludinus was never going to leave the most crucial part of his endgame in the hands of someone else. If it wasn't Liliana, it probably would have been Imogen, or Fearne.

Daemon [fresh from beating the absolute, unholy tar out of the mailman]: "Let's do it."

Corlys: "You haven't even heard it yet."

Daemon: "Don't need to. Ready a boat."

Vaemond: "Most would deem it dishonorable, contemptible even, what we're about to do..."

Daemon [already rowing]: "What I'm about to do."

Corlys: "The trouble of course is the archers. Should this folly even succeed... once we arrive, there will still be hails of arrows to consider."

Daemon: "I'll deal with the arrows."

Vaemond: "Okay... should you not at least have Caraxes at the ready for when the fight commen—"

Daemon [shredding banner into a white flag]: "Shut your whore mouth, I'm not endangering my dragon on a lark. I fucking love that thing."

Laenor: "Yo, this dude is wild."

Daemon [unsheathing Dark Sister]: "If I die, which I won't, be sure to have the artisan paint up a likeness of my corpse extending its middlemost finger unto the sky. Send it to Viserys."

Corlys: "Not sure I follow, my Prince. What would such pantomime convey?"

Daemon [riddled with arrows]: "He'll know what it means."

Vaemond: "I am uncomfortable, but aroused."