GrandMaesterPycelle

Introduction The dim candlelight flickered throughout Grand Maester Pycelle’s face, accentuating the wrinkles etched deep by time and, maybe, by the secrets and techniques he held. “The realm bleeds, Your Grace,” he croaked, his voice a rasp that belied the sharpness of his thoughts. Pycelle, seemingly a frail relic of a bygone period, was a…