GOT/ASOIAF: A Game Of Ice And Fire

For the most part, our journey through the Reach had been uneventful, especially after a very relaxing time in the Arbor.

Which was technically (and legally) part of the Reach, being one of the larger islands off the coast of Westeros, as big as any of the Iron Islands, it had maintained an element of cultural independence from the mainland.

House Redwyne ruled here as they have for millennia, claiming descent from Garth Greenhand, as so many of the old petty kings of the Reach did.

Like the rest though, they eventually succumbed to the Gardeners, then the Andals and finally the Targaryens, each time, commendably retaining their preeminent position as lords of the island, despite the change in overlord.

Perhaps as a family, they were more politically canny than I give them credit for, seeing which way the political winds were going and then picking their sights carefully.

There were many credible reports, for example, that Aegon the Conqueror visited the Arbor more than once, before the Targaryen invasion of Westeros, to go hawking with the Redwynes.

Becoming friends with the people with dragons was definitely a canny move given what was to come.

Besides the climate here, which was, I have to say, delightful, there were two things most people knew the Redwynes and the Arbor for.

The first was their Navy.

Most might think that the Iron fleet or the Royal Fleet were the largest in Westeros, but it was actually the Redwyne's fleet.

Lord Redwyne could call on two hundred warships and perhaps a thousand more whalers, cogs, trading galleys and the like if need be.

He was stooped of shoulder, thin, and balding with only a few orange tufts of hair remaining.

Married to his cousin, Mina Tyrell, the sister of his liege lord, Mace Tyrell; he is thus twice a nephew of the Queen of Thorns, Olenna Redwyne.

"Ser Gerion has spread good word about your Royal Legion, my Prince. Business has thankfully been going on quite well, especially compared to everything else lately." Lord Paxter Redwyne once remarked during my stay in his castle.

I've tasked Gerion and Tygett with the mission of slowly increasing my Royal Army power as their influence increased by the day.

Acquiring equipment, horses, ships and supplies through the profit the legionaries were getting from keeping the peace and order in the realm (mostly restricted to the Westerlands, with just currently slowly transitioning to include the Reach and Riverlands).

"I'm pleased to hear it, Lord Redwyne." I replied back with the appropriate decorum. "I'm a firm believer that the best kind of deal is the one that is best for all those involved."

"Ah, so young and already so wise." The older man added respectfully before sighing. "I'm hopeful that my children will follow your example with time."

Despite being a year older, the twins Horas and Hobber, they weren't any competent in combat or strategy.

And although their sister, Desmera, had my age, she wasn't much different, being too naive in regards to knights and fairytales. .

An interesting piece of trivia though, during the Books, a marriage was once considered between Desmera and Daven, but was called off in order for him to marry a Frey.

Poor man.

Desmera, like most girls I've personally met in this life, was all so happy with the possibility of marrying the Crown Prince and eventually becoming Queen.

No woman would have me simping for them, but I gotta say…

Redhead with freckles had its charm.

Despite her age, Desmera's boldness even compared to Lynesse's, youngest daughter of Lord Leyton Hightower.

Regardless…

The second thing about the Arbor was of course the wine, vineyards visibly crisscrossed the island, as the industry provided employment for many of the Islanders in season, and even the lowliest wayside in here had cheap and plentiful vintages to choose from.

The Arbor Gold, a sweet white wine, was perhaps the best known export and was often considered by those with a less refined palate, to be the finest the continent had to offer.

But I am sure that the best bottles stood on the island.

So I had Gerion make an irrefutable offer with some of my fertilizers and agricultural techniques.

Lord Redwyne's personal wine cellar contained a particular dark purple strong wine, which was rich and heady.

Suffice it to say that if one ever got a chance to sample it, they would not turn it down.

Which made it all so valuable of a trading good for my entrepreneuring trade company to possess access to.

But now, my companions and I were once more on the road on the mainland, heading northeast into the heart of the Reach.

Staring out from my carriage at the passing scenery, we passed mile after mile of green verdant landscapes.

There truly was nowhere else quite as lush as here, save perhaps the thin strip of the Vale of Arryn or the artificially created water gardens in Dorne.

And this lushness brought bounty and people.

In the North, one could travel for days without seeing a single other soul, the Vale, the Iron

Islands, the Westerlands and even Dorne were partly or even mostly mountainous with small settlements scraping out a survival where they could, but not here.

There were of course the Red Mountains and the Dornish marches to the south and east, but the vast majority of this land was either flat or rolling hills, with rivers and streams crisscrossing the land.

Minor Lords had their castles, or more often fortified manor houses, atop rises, hiring extra farm workers or hedge knights whenever there was needed.

A bit over halfway from Oldtown, on our way back up towards Highgarden, there was Horn Hill, some way off the road set atop the hill it was named after.

The road to this impressive castle took us

away from the lush lowlands I've been describing, to the foothills of the Dornish Marches.

These were forested hills, teeming with wildlife.

The hunting here was bountiful, and as a result the archers of Horn Hill were rightly famed.

Indeed, the sigil of house Tarly was a red archer on a green background.

House Tarly, who have held this land for time immemorial, were one of the Marshall Lords, tasked with protecting the Reach from incursions from Dorne, which they had done successfully for years.

Perhaps most famously, and recently, the Tarlys were at the forefront of the fight against the Vulture king, the first vulture king in the early years of the Targaryen rule, for there were many.

This vulture King was hunted down and killed by the armies of the various Marcher Lords, including the famous Lord Samwell Tarly or Savage Sam Tarly as he became known afterwards.

After a dinner of venison and sweet meats, and a night in a comfy bed at Horn Hill, the hospitality here was courteous and not the kind I could ever complain about, but still far from warm.

At least until my legionaries began sparring with Tyrell soldiers.

Even the meticulous battle commander wasn't expecting such disparity between our forces.

Tygett wasn't playing around with selecting and training men for my Royal Legion.

They might not be battle-tested nor have the same level of battlefield experience as the Reachmen, but their quality shouldn't be underestimated in any circumstance.

Daven and Sandor were undoubtedly amongst my best combatants.

Even Tyrion managed to compete against the Tarly archers with his crossbow, which certainly was no small feat considering their reputation.

Before heading onwards and after unlocking another Magical Dungeon, I've decided not to waste the opportunity and spoke with Lord Randyll Tarly.

"I want to hire your services as battle commander, Lord Tarly." I spoke clearly with Lord Randyll, Lord of Hornhill.

He was a lean and balding man with a short, bristly gray beard.

A narrow older man but iron willed, shrewd and capable, considered one of the finest battle commanders in Westeros.

He prized courage and martial ability, which would lead him to eventually despise his eldest son, Samwell.

Sam was around my age, so his cowardice and softness were yet to be noticed by Randyll, who currently was still believed to be able to grow out of it with time.

Besides, Dickon was still far too young for any comparison to be made between him and Sam.

The old man raised his eyebrow, taking six-years-old me seriously enough just like Tywin Lannister did.

"Hire me, my prince?" He asked with an intrigued look, not because he doubted if I had any need for someone like him, the man was well aware of my Royal Legion, but rather because he didn't expect to be approached by me of all people.

Yes, the Royal Legion had been publicly raised under my banner and name.

But I was still too young to actually lead anyone in battle, much less make such political moves, so Randyll thought someone like my uncle or grandfather were actually in charge of things until I came of age.

"Precisely, Lord Tarly." I replied confidently. "I've been thinking about improving my Legionnaires efficiency in battle and heard you were exactly what I needed."

The reachman acknowledged my posture and tone as confident yet respectful towards him.

My out of ordinary stature and title as Crown Prince were particular aspects that compelled him to actually view me as some worthy of respect.

"If I might ask, who did you hear that from, my prince?" Tarly asked again, still measuring every action I took before him.

He wasn't a player of the game like Tywin or Ollena were, but the man certainly has a keen eye for people in regards to militaristic matters.

"No problem. Lord Tyrell was the one that convinced me to seek you out." I momentarily gave in to my propensity of speaking in figurative terms, which only seemed to confuse Randall at first. "You see, after spending a week at Highgarden, I've had my fair share of hearing Lord Tyrell boasting about his famous battles. But the one that caught my attention was the one that he allegedly defeated my father after he had won three battles himself. And Lord Tyrell did mention you were involved."

Randyll Tarly almost snickered at the notion of Mace Tyrell ȧssuming credit for his effort only to briefly mention him, but the Lord of Hornhill didn't dare speak against his liege Lord.

"Nonsense of course." I suddenly announced, startling the old man. "The Tyrells have a bad habit of reclaiming what isn't theirs to claim."

Lord Tarly finally spoke up after sympathizing with my opinion. "No disrespect to my liege lord's house, my prince, but their men so often prefer to hide behind their women skirts."

"That maybe, but from the brief time I've spent with his older sons, I'm hopeful they might end that tradition. Lord Tyrell's first son seems to be a wise and cunning person that might certainly be able to make his own choices, while his second son shows a certain knack for combat."

"I certainly hope that is the case, my prince."

From the way the old man's attitude changed after he heard my comment in regards to house Tyrell, it seemed I've found something to hook him into ȧssisting my Royal Legion grow stronger.

That and his pride.

"Now, let us return to my offer." I shifted the conversation back to where I wanted. "I'm aware that you can't be absent from your responsibilities as Lord of Hornhill for too long, but that's why I'm requesting to build a long-term camp for the best of the best among my soldiers to learn how to fight in unity and order. Of course, the provisions to feed and equip these legionnaires will be provided, alongside some generous payment for your good work."

"That certainly can be arranged, my prince." Randyll Tarly reasoned. "And I accept your offer. In my opinion, It's about time the Seven Kingdoms raise a Royal Army, so we better make sure it's in the best shape it can possibly be."

"Your son, Samwell, is the same age as me, does he not?" I finally asked.

"I-I… I believe so." It was clear to me that he had forgotten about that simple fact.

"Would you be interested to have him fostered alongside me by Lord Tywin Lannister?" I tossed out the verbal bait and waited for him to bite.

If things were still supposed to follow the canonical timeline, Lord Tarly was working on having Sam fostered at the Arbor, and in exchange he would ward one of Lord Redwyne's sons.

But that would end terribly, with Sam being considered unfit to be made a page, and that would be the start of the great animosity between father and son.

"It would be an honor." He uncharacteristically broke character and offered his older son to be raised in another Kingdom.

Guess I underestimated his expectations for his heir.

Such a doting father.

"Excellent." I replied before shaking hands and sealing our deal.

—————————————————————

My retinue won't stop by Highgarden on our way back, as delightful as it was on our first stay, instead we pushed on upstream alongside the Cocklewhent, one of the tributaries of the great Mander river to Ashford.

I've already mentioned the chivalric tradition when visiting Highgarden, but it was apparent that this was something that was the case throughout the region.

Pia never seemed to grow tired of the chivalrous knights and entertaining tournaments.

Even some of the smaller towns hosted tourneys to bring glory to their lords and the entrance rules were stringent, only true Knights were allowed to enter.

In some other parts of the land, anyone with a lance and a horse might enter the lists and manys the mystery knight that made a name for themselves in this way.

Barristan the bold for one.

But it was a lot rarer in the Reach where entrants were often required to prove their status as Knights before entering.

Speaking of which, brought me to Ashford.

Ashford was perhaps, on the face of it, not the kind of place one might expect me to stop on this tour of the wonderful and unique in Westeros though.

It was in many ways very like every other town in the Reach.

It had fields around it, providing bountiful crops in season, a lord bannerman to the Tyrells, overseeing the town and its environs from his castle of middling and no particular note.

Don't get me wrong, it was a fine castle, triangular so a little reminiscent of Riverrun, with round towers in the Andal style and thick walls.

But it was nothing special.

Town had a rather humble attraction, the houses were uniformly fetched with whitewashed walls, similar to many other towns in the Reach.

What was actually special about this place was its history, for in the not-too-distant past, this place had hosted two noteworthy events in history of the Seven Kingdoms.

The first was the tourney held here in the meadow south of the river in the year 209 AC.

It's a curious tale.

A hedge knight of unknown provenance got into a dispute with prince Aerion Targaryen, which resulted in the extraordinary spectacle of a trial by seven, with Targaryen princes on both sides.

Prince Baelor, the Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, died and was cremated here at Ashford Castle.

What made this story all the more remarkable was that the hedge Knight whose honor the Prince died for was none other than Sir Duncan the tall.

The then-unknown future Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and his squire, Aegon Targaryen (Egg), whose ultimate ascent to the throne as Aegon V, or Aegon the unlikely, would never have happened but for this tragic death.

A remarkable tale indeed.

The second noteworthy event here was the Battle of Ashford during Robert's rebellion.

My father had amassed his army at Storm's End and won his legendary three battles in a day at Summerhall, his next ambition was to head up to Riverrun to meet with the armies of his allies, Ned Stark and Jon Arryn.

He gave King's Landing a wide berth and before heading north, came here to Ashford.

But he was confronted by the vanguard of the army of the Reach, the Tarlys who I've interacted with about a week ago.

A smaller force somehow managed to push back Robert Baratheon's army, inflicting the only defeat my father suffered during that year-long struggle.

Perhaps that could have been the end of his ambitions, but when the bulk of the Tyrell force arrived, they inexplicably didn't press the advantage, instead heading off far from the action to Storm's End.

It was almost as if they didn't want to be involved.

But to suggest that would be quite a conspiracy theory, I'm sure anyone would agree.

Instead, I've informed my retinue that we will spend the night here and enjoy the surroundings.

There was a fine tree over there standing alone by the river and an open sky that would allow me a view of the stars.

Perhaps even watch the small tourney taking place.

Or delve into another Magical Dungeon. Though if not for the loot, they were all getting awfully boring.

Maybe what I need is some company to make it less dull.

"M-my prince, I-I've just wanted to s-say that I-it is an honor." A slightly rotund kid, with dark hair, pale eyes, and a small moon-shaped face announced.

I turned to face my new follower.

Samwell Tarly.

Heir of Hornhill, around a decade younger than his book counterpart when joining the Night's Watch.

"Tell me, are you a stammerer from birth?" I questioned staring at him with my heterochromatic eyes.

Sam winced meekly. "N-no, y-your grac— I mean, my prince."

"Then speak clearly, Samwell Tarly." I rose to my full height, towering over the kid my age.

After pausing for a moment to calm down a little, he replied. "Yes, my prince."

I smiled before placing a hand over his shoulder. "Much better."

The timid boy nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"So, Sam… may I call you that while we are speaking privately?" I immediately started to establish a bond of friendship between us.

"… Of course, my prince." Sam replied without stuttering.

"Splendid. Call me Don then, the titles grow tiresome during prolonged dialogues." I remarked and moved while signaling for him to follow.

"… If I might be bold enough to inquire, why am I here?" He asked with more confidence this time.

"There are two main reasons. First one being because of your name." I admitted.

"I can see the reason behind it. House Tarly might not be the most influential house of the Reach, but certainly isn't one to scoff at." Sam began muttering more to himself.

"Exactly." I broke him out of his ramblings, making him go red in shame. "And the second being due to who you are."

"Because of me?" Sam asked, surprised.

"I've heard you are fond of music and songs, and prefer books over weapons and soft fabrics over armor." I said while looking forward, allowing him only to look at my back. "Also that you are a timid craven, afraid of blood and violence." He lowered his head in shame, again. Just because his father didn't openly stated that he would murder him if he didn't joined the Night's Watch, their relationship was much closer to what Tywin and Tyrion had.

"I-I…" Samwell began his stuttering, but I interrupted him.

"Although you are insecure and awkward, I know that you are also observant and intelligent." I added, pretending to not have noticed his previous slip. "Technically, like me, you will be officially known as ward of the Rock, page to my Grandfather."

The young Tarly remained silent, understanding I had more to say.

"In actuality, I will be personally training you to one day ȧssume your father's place as an official commander of my Royal Legion." Approaching the saddle of my provisional horse, I pretended to retrieve a small crossbow of lighter poundage mostly used for training aim and handed it to him. "I understand that marksmanship is a serious tradition in your house. But I'm aware of your current shortcomings, so I won't be forcing the warbow on you yet. So what do you say, are you willing to join my party of companions?"

Samwell eyes displayed his inner overthinking, but he eventually shook his head in agreement. "I am."

Gotta give credit to the craven kid, he at least knows when to brave out.

Once he shows enough skill with the longbow and manages to hunt something, I might introduce him to some arcane knowledge.

For now I had to tutorial him through the basics.

—————————————————————

I held my breath for a brief moment and loosed the arrow in my hand.

Drawing another quickly as my first target dropped to the ground, dead from an arrow through the eye and into the brain.

It's kin took off into the woods, but it didn't make it five steps before my second arrow hit it right behind the shoulder, piercing it's heart.

It tried to move a few more steps before it's body finally gave out.

In the blink of an eye, I drew my golden heart bow again and finished a third one, pinning its lifeless body against a nearby tree.

"Your skill with a bow is outstanding honestly, Don. Three boars in mere seconds… amazing." Tyrion said from behind me while Daven nodded at how effortlessly I've made hunting boars appear to be. "Why did you even bring us with you? How did you even know they were here?"

I whistled loud enough for my provisional horse to hear and follow before moving forward through the woods, ignoring the other hogs of the pack running away.

"He probably needed more horses to carry one of the pigs, obviously." Daven joked as he patted Tyrion's arm.

Sandor watched with a serious expression before moving on to pick up my prey.

My eyes darted to the words above their heads.

{TYRION LANNISTER, SWASHBUCKLER ROGUE.}

RACE: ANDAL

ALLEGIANCE: HOUSE LANNISTER, DURRANDON BARATHEON

PWR: 20

END: 20

MOB: 25

INT: 32

STL: 25

DEF: 25* (Castle-Forged Brigandine: Piercing/Bludgeoning/ Slashing +50% Damage Resistance)

{DAVEN LANNISTER OF LANNISPORT, BATTLE MASTER FIGHTER.}

RACE: ANDAL

ALLEGIANCE: HOUSE LANNISTER, DURRANDON BARATHEON

PWR: 28

END: 28

MOB: 27

INT: 28

STL: 23

DEF: 40* (Castle-forged steel Plate armor: Piercing/Slashing +100% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +50% Damage Resistance)

{SANDOR CLEGANE, SWORN SHIELD OF THE CROWN PRINCE.}

RACE: ANDAL

ALLEGIANCE: DURRANDON BARATHEON

PWR: 39

END: 38

MOB: 29

INT: 17

STL: 11

DEF: 40* (Castle-forged steel Plate armor: Piercing/Slashing +100% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +50% Damage Resistance)

It was the first time I had read their updated status in quite a while, and I loved how far they have progressed.

Especially Tyrion.

And although Sandor hadn't progressed that much in comparison, due to how late I've added him to my party compared to the others, his initial stats were already high to begin with, so I was more than satisfied with him as well.

They were absolutely people I wanted to keep by my side and fight alongside. Or perhaps, someone I could trust to accomplish almost any task I gave them.

I joined in Daven's laughter with a casual chuckle. "In all seriousness, I did ask for you to come for another reason." I said, getting serious as Sandor pilled the boars on the ground.

My horse came trotting up, with Daven and Tyrion's horses in tow at the same time.

We reached down and lifted the dead pig up and onto the back of our horses.

"I've brought you to speak about something very important." I finally said before displaying my magic for them to see.

The three men stare incredulously at what I was displaying for them.

Sprouting from the palm of my hands I casted several Minor Illusions of what appeared to be hovering small (yet shining) Seven-pointed stars.

Casting Thaumaturgy I magnified my voice by up to five times while changing it to sound more angelic, added to the earth tremor strong enough to rattle several trees and bushes.

"For a long time I've been pondering about the offer I'm about to make." I announced with all the authority my persuasion allowed me to. "From a young age I've been chosen… now… I chose you three to join my cause."

I could of course take some of the routes I've taken with my other agents, but these three were a special case.

Parlor tricks alone wouldn't get their attention for enough time, as even the ever-so-cynical Tywin Lannister was slowly getting used to what I've been displaying to him.

No.

For my closest companions, who would carry my banner and lead my Legion, I was required to give them something to believe in.

Some bigger cause than simply me commanding them to obey my orders.

Like Daenerys inadvertently did with Jorah Mormont as she stepped out of the flames with three living dragons.

Unfortunately something like that might completely waste all the work I've been doing with filling Sandor's head with what a true Knight ought to be, instead frightening to the point of forcing him to break his vows as my sword shield and walk away.

I knew Daven was fairly religious, not to the point of utmost piety, but still enough to give him the image of what type of Knight he would seek to become.

As for Tyrion, all he ever wanted was to be truly loved. Eventually becoming just as cynical and jaded as his father, the young Lannister of the Books reached the point of seeking to destroy Westeros.

Since we've met, I've made sure to make him realize how much I respected him and believed in his potential.

I've made sure that none dared disrespect him either to his face or to his back.

I was the exact opposite of what Joffrey would've been to him, sharing wise advice in a friendly manner and occasionally playing some Cyvasses matches.

And from what I've heard, even got Tywin to actually compliment his progress.

Nothing outstanding, Tyrion would never forget the entire incident with Tysha, but at least I didn't need to constantly worry that he would be pushed to the point of breaking bad.

Back to the trio.

"N-n-nephew… What is this… cause you speak of? And what is this… is this magic?!" Tyrion was the first to speak up, with both Daven and Sandor still having their jaws dropped in shock.

"I've been blessed by the light of the Seven." I replied with my voice still carrying great magical power behind it. "I've been burned with glorious purpose."

To Sandor's credit he was the second one to recover. "Purpose?"

I smiled. "Look around, Clegane! Septons and Knights preaching about holiness while lying, murdering, stealing and raping! The Gods have sworn to not personally intervene, but as other supernatural threats rise again, they finally decide to select a champion."

"You, my prince?" Daven finally recovered from his shock, as the earth tremor gave way to a strong gust of wind blowing past the woods.

"Precisely." I nodded, my eyes now beginning to shine with their respective colors. "As you can attest by the power I now wield before you."

"You spoke of… supernatural… threats?" Tyrion inquired, still struggling to believe what he was witnessing.

"Indeed." I raised my hand again, beside him, a frozen skeleton figure stepped forward with its usual undead movements. Before Tyrion could run away in fear instead of reaching for his dagger, I spoke again. "The dead will rise from the Land of always winter, bringing with them the Long Night of legends." I turned to Sandor, and as he winced, we all heard screeching noises and sounds of flapping wings. The word in everyone's mind was what allowed the Targeryens to conquer an entire continent. "Dragons will hatch from their once believed dead eggs, serving a Targeryen Queen that lays waste to armies on Essos before turning her attention towards Westeros." Suddenly every unnatural phenomenon halted and silence dawned between us. "And there's more… much more."

The three men stared at each other for a brief moment, probably attempting to figure out if they were actually dreaming about everything, before turning their gaze towards me.

Their expression confirmed that they were finally digesting everything I told them.

"Kneel before me. Swear in the name of the Seven Gods your undying loyalty for me and I will continue to extend my blessing over you."

"Continue?" Tyrion questioned.

"Oh please, don't tell me you haven't felt the recent unnatural evolution you have all gone through." I replied back, toning down the tense atmosphere. "Not only are you all capable of quickly recovering after intense training, but are also growing stronger, faster and more sharp at an impossible pace."

Tyrion and Daven began showing signs of finally getting what they have accomplished in less than a year, while Sandor had a face of 'I knew something was going on'.

"And in time, with diligent training and proper experience, you will all become unnaturally skilled individuals in whichever path you take." I concluded. "Now, you have a choice of swearing your lives and helping me save the world as we know from the chaos that is on its way. Be aware that this is not the sort of vow that most knights and septons break without consequences. If you do not have what it takes to follow me even to the deepest of the seven hells, I will take back my blessing and things will remain as they are."

It was in all honesty an empty vow, they were already being judged by how my System perceived their loyalty, but they didn't know that.

Besides, something that I did with my speech seemed to have given off some similar feel of charming them.

Perhaps it had something to do with Shadow.

I couldn't change their nature and bend their will, yet, but I was certainly capable of being unbelievably eloquent.

To my satisfaction, I watched my three companions kneeling before me with their expressions betraying no hesitation.

"Henceforth you three are part of my inner circle of companions. You will serve only me, Durrandon Stormborn of House Baratheon, First of His Name, blessed by the Seven, future emperor of the Andals, First Men, Rhoynar and all of Planetos."

I watched through my Observe skill as their allegiance immediately shifted to display my name.

"Approach, Sandor Clegane." I commanded and he immediately obeyed. "As the only Knight of this group, I will make you my first Paladin."

The Hound furrowed his eyebrow in confusion, but remained silent.

I chanted before him, mimicking the act of knighting someone that my father did on me while disguised. "The Path of Vengeance is a solemn commitment to punish those who have committed a grievous sin." His eyes betrayed that he immediately thought about his brother, The Mountain that rides. "When evil forces slaughter helpless villagers, when someone turns against the will of the gods, when a group of bandits grows too violent and powerful, when a dragon rampages through the countryside…at times like these, paladins like you will set right that which has gone wrong. To the paladins tha follow this path, who are also called avengers or dark knights, their own purity is not as important as delivering justice."

Sandor nodded in complete devotion.

"The Tenets of your Creed will revolve around punishing wrongdoers by any means necessary. Those who uphold these tenets are willing to sacrifice even their own righteousness to mete out justice upon those who do evil. The core principles of the tenets are brutally simple." I raised one finger while casting a Minor Illusion to better illustrate my point. "Fight the Greater Evil."

"Faced with a choice of fighting my sworn foes or combating a lesser evil, I will choose the greater evil." Sandor replied as if he had recited those same words for his entire life.

"No Mercy for the Wicked." I raised another finger.

"Ordinary foes might win my mercy, but my sworn enemies do not." Sandor replied again.

"By Any Means Necessary." I raised a third finger.

"My qualms can't get in the way of exterminating my foes." He continued.

"Restitution." I raised a fourth and final finger.

"If my foes wreak ruin on the world, it is because I failed to stop them. I must help those harmed by their misdeeds." The Hound concluded before carving his sword in the ground before him.

"Rise my Avenger, empowered with your Vow of Enmity and the ability to Abjure Enemies in your path." I placed my hand over his shoulder and watched as his Stats finally displayed a magical capacity through the use of his Divine Smites.

It wasn't anywhere near as large as my Mana Bar was since he relied on drawing from divine energies, nor did he possessed the same level of control as I did since he would require meditating and praying, but it will be more than sufficient for now.

Sandor could not only smite his enemies, but also call upon the same features as I did, like Vow of Enmity. Not to mention his propensity with scaring most people would be weaponized thanks to Abjure Enemy.

In time, he might even unlock similar perks as I did, like Divine Sense and Lay on Hands.

But that's a bridge we will cross later.

Turning my gaze towards Tyrion and Daven, I noticed their expecting looks.

"Worry not, my friends. Clegane here will serve both as a tryout to how far my followers can progress and as an example to follow." I told them. "You will have plenty of time to prove your value in the war that is to come."

"War, my prince?" Daven questioned.

"What war are you referring to?" Tyrion joined, still not comfortable in speaking casually with me.

"Why do you think I've worked so hard in raising my Royal Legion in such a short amount of time?" I argued back. "The Ironborn will soon rebel, but I ȧssure you, we will be ready."

I allowed the silence to dwell between us for a brief moment before announcing.

"It's time for your initiation."

=================================

TITLE : Durrandon Baratheon (Crown Prince/ *Knight of the Seven** Septon of the Seven ***Druid of the Old)

LEVEL: 22 (200/2200)

HP: 440/440

SP: 440/440

MP: 22/22*

MANA CONTROL: 100% [*Advantage on concentration]

ALLEGIANCE: The Iron Throne/ *The Faith of the Seven/ *The Old Gods

PWR: <29>

END: <36>

MOB: <32>

INT: <33>

STL: <31>

STAT POINTS: 5

DEF: 25* (Castle-Forged Brigandine: Piercing/Bludgeoning/ Slashing +50% Damage Resistance)

MAG:22*

CANTRIPS: Eldritch Blast/ Eldritch Spear/ Eldritch Smite/ Minor Illusion/ Mending/ Spare The Dying/ Message/ Mind Sliver/ Thaumaturgy/ Mage Hand/ Shocking Grasp/ Thunderclap

1st LV: Disguise Self/ Detect Magic/ Mage Armor/ Absorb Elements/ Chromatic Orb/ Unseen Servant/ Thunderwave

SKILLS: ~close list~

<Power>

-Athletics (Lv.29)

-Throwing (Lv. 28)

-Swim (Lv.15)

-Lift (Lv.23)

-Rip (Lv. 24)

-Run (Lv. 30)

-Jump (Lv.27)

-Climb (Lv. 30)

-Crawl (Lv. 24)

-Bladed Weapon Mastery (Lv. 30)

-Blunt Weapon Mastery (Lv. 15)

-Ranged Weapon Mastery (Lv. 31)

-Long Reach Fighting Style (Lv. 14)

-Mid Reach Fighting Style (Lv. 23)

-Short Reach Fighting Style (Lv. 25)

-Brawling (Lv. 14)

-Power Strike (Lv. 27)

-Iron Dance Style (Lv. 29)

<Endurance>

-Breathing Technique(Lv. 29)

-Meditation Technique (Lv. 28)

-Pain Tolerance (Lv. 27)

-Heat Damage Resistance (Lv.14)

-Cold Damage Resistance (Lv. 18)

-Fall Damage Resistance (Lv. 19)

-Poison/Illness Damage Resistance (Lv. 13)

-Acid Damage Resistance (Lv. 9)

-Necrotic Damage Resistance (Lv. 14)

-Radiant Damage Resistance (Lv. 21)

<Mobility>

-Quickness (Lv. 27)

-Aim (Lv. 31)

-Ambidextrous (Lv. 27)

-Rope Skill (Lv. 17)

-Dodge (Lv. 23)

-Flexibility (Lv. 17)

-Balance (Lv. 18)

-Acrobatics (Lv. 19)

<Intelligence>

-Gibberish (Lv. 22)

-Sing (Lv. 28)

-Act (Lv. 27)

-Etiquette (Lv. 29)

-Memory (Lv. 29)

-Mathematics (Lv. 30)

-Poisons/Venom Knowledge (Lv. 24)

-Medicine Knowledge (Lv. 28)

-Healing Technique (Lv. 36)

-Agriculture Knowledge (Lv. 29)

-Mining Knowledge (Lv. 20)

-Common Tongue (Lv. 30)

-Old Tongue (Lv. 22)

-High Valyrian Tongue (Lv. 21)

-Dothraki Language (Lv.16)

-Ibbenese Language (Lv. 16)

-Old Ghiscari (Lv. 16)

-Summer Tongue (Lv. 19)

-Trade Talk/Bargain (Lv. 14)

-Library Research (Lv.30)

-New Gods Lore (Lv. 25)

-Heraldry (Lv.25)

-Cartography (Lv. 27)

-Astrology (Lv. 25)

-Warfare Knowledge (Lv. 24)

-Convince (Lv. 27)

-Cook (Lv. 27)

-Teach (Lv. 31)

-Animal Handling (Lv. 29)

-Animal Train (Lv. 29)

-Decipher (Lv. 28)

-Leader (Lv. 16)

-Economy (Lv. 23)

-Alchemy (Lv. 28)

-Blacksmith (Lv. 18)

-Sexual Pleasure (Lv. 23)

-Seduce (Lv. 24)

-Intimidate (Lv. 27)

-Incite (Lv. 24)

-Streetwise Knowledge (Lv. 20)

-Taunt (Lv. 20)

<Stealth>

-Hide (Lv. 27)

-Subtleness (Lv. 28)

-Blend In (Lv. 18)

-Awareness (Lv. 28)

-Observe (Lv. 32)

-Disguise (Lv.36)

-Lie (Lv. 29)

-Sleight of Hand (Lv. 25)

-Sneak Attack (Lv. 30)

-Dirty Fight (Lv. 24)

-Water Dance Style (Lv. 27)

PERK POINTS: 10

PERKS: ~close list~

[Player's Mind/ Mental Map/ Inventory/ Healer/ Linguist/ Observant/ Sleep is for the Dead/ Alert/ Sentinel/ Crossbow Expert/ Sharpshooter/ Divine Sense/ Lay on Hand/ Divine Smite/ Channel Divinity/ Wild Shape/ Wild Companion/ War Caster/ Magic Initiate/ Chef/ Keen Mind/ Mobile/ Resilient and Tough/ Skulker]

*CLASS FEATURES: ~close list~

[Vow of Enmity/ Control Undead/ Destructive Wrath/ Twilight Sanctuary/ Animal of the Woods +/ Spirit Totem +]

TIME PLAYED: 6 years

MONEY: 240,000 GOLD/ 8,000 SILVER/ 23,000 COPPER/ 1000 NC

($) MARKET

=================================

Four out of nine Great Houses's Magical Dungeons unlocked.

Among them Ashford was very inconsequential to me.

The undeads that were spawned here weren't of a particularly high level, nor were the traps that vicious.

The only significant difference being that the higher demographic of the Reach reflected in similar fashion with the undead numbers found on each magical dungeon.

Though to the detriment of their quality.

Which was a perfect tutorial for my three companions.

"So this is how you've always had something up your sleeve." Tyrion grinned finally understanding as he got a better idea of his limited version of my Inventory.

His dagger disappeared from one hand to another as if he already knew magic.

"Indeed." I admitted leading them inside the magical dungeon. "Also, your eyes can better perceive the world that surrounds you."

"So that's why I've been getting some extra pieces of trivia while inspecting the Royal Legions equipment and provisions." Daven remarked. "Won't we all be missed by the troops if we stay away for long?"

"I gave them a rest from marching throughout the Reach. The tournament Lord Ashford is hosting will certainly be a welcome change of pace for them. I've also had Sam and Pia being hosted safely at the castle." I informed them.

"You mind explaining again what is this initiation you've mentioned?" Tyrion asked while Sandor discovered the usefulness of equipping and unequipping his armor.

"Heh, no longer need those annoying squires." Clegane grinned.

"Like I said, I've brought you here to give you a taste of what is to come." I mentioned while pointing ahead, as a horde of undead began striding towards us. "Sandor, you are the front line heavy hitter, shield your allies and smite your foes. Daven, you are the close quarters beat down, cut through anything that is fast enough to flank Clegane. And Tyrion, you are the long distance beat down, cover your allies and exploit their weaknesses."

They followed my instructions and steeled themselves to face the approaching zombies.

"What about you, nephew?" Tyrion asked, slightly concerned that I might be exposed to danger.

As the first wave of Zombies was about to clash against them, I immediately casted Mage Armor on Sandor and everyone watched the cloak of shining runes deflect a barrage of projectiles the archer monsters shot at him.

[-5 MP]

"I'll play the role of support…" I said, quickly touching the sword in Daven's hand and coating it with radiant energy. "…and utility."

"You enchanted my sword?" Daven muttered to himself, still unable of ignoring my magical stunts.

"This hideous creatures are beings of darkness. The light of the Seven will burn them like dragon fire." I replied before facing Tyrion. "Can you shoot while riding?"

Tyrion furrowed his eyebrows for a brief moment before replying. "I think so. But where will you find a…"

Interrupting him mid sentence, I summoned my Totem spirit while disguising it as an imposing brown bear.

Immediately I noticed everyone's life bars being increased as well as their power stats being boosted.

"Fucking monster!" Clegane almost barked before cleaving a regular Zombie in half.

"I… I feel great!" Daven smiled before bashing another one with his shield, blasting it against the nearby wall.

"A bear?" Tyrion muttered.

"If it's a problem to you, next time I will try to bring a lion instead." I joked.

Tyrion merely snicker and mounted my spirit bear, the extra power allowed him to easily reload his crossbow.

What came next was the thrill I've been longing for a while now.

Without Cantrips and Valyrian Steel weapons, the combat between my party and the horde of undeads was actually challenging.

"Clegane, curse that big one!" I commanded as the rare specimen of a tall undead clad in full plate armor came into sight.

"May your ċunt creator have mercy on you, for I will not!" He shouted and his class feature immediately took effect.

Sandor didn't wait for my command to begin hacking and slashing at the toughest undead.

Two spear wielding zombies rushed forward and aimed to skewer the Hound, Daven parried one thrust with his shield before circling to provoke an opening by lowering the spear and instantly decapitated the same foe.

Meanwhile, the other spear wielding undead dropped its weapon and fell down, one of its eyes had a crossbow bolt embedded in it.

"Nice work." I complemented the three as Sandor grappled the big one and headbutted it, smashing its head into a pulpy mess.

Though to the sacrifice of breaking the Mage Armor I've casted over him.

Tyrion chuckled. "I know this is supposed to be terrifying, but I'm actually having fun."

"This is meant to serve as a training session for what is to come." I humbled his growing confidence. "Their numbers will be much larger and the Others will lead them."

"I'll take my chances with them, instead of those fire breathing fuċkers." Sandor argued.

"Exhaling." Daven corrected.

"What?" Sandor questioned after removing his helmet and wiping his forehead.

"You see, dragons are said to exhale fire." Daven continued, completely unaware of Sandor staring daggers at him.

"Oh, perhaps they actually spit fire." Tyrion joined in Daven's argument, though the little Lannister was completely aware of Clegane's clenching jaw. "Can't say I'm eager to fight one, but the idea of sighting the creatures long thought extinct is definitely appealing."

"Hmpf!" Clegane grunted and decided to ignore the two Lannisters.

"If you are all recovered, let's proceed. You three still need to rest before we continue traveling." I interrupted their discussion about dragons and mythical creatures.

"Understood." The three of them replied together.

I wasn't expecting them to grow used with everything so quickly, but I obviously wasn't going to complain about it.

As Utility and Support, I made sure to bring new tools and capabilities to my party while also sharpening and honing the ones they already had with them.

Gotta say, eventhough I wasn't expecting it, the three companions were basically steamrolling everything in their path.

A pity this pocket dimension didn't had any thing special like the mage undead from the one under the Red Keep, or the Blights from Highgarden.

By the point my Spirit Bear reached its time limit, my party had all but cleared the Magical Dungeon under Ashford.

Leaving only the last wave of for them to face without my help or intervention.

Even it things inexplicably went south, I still had my Twilight Sanctuary and Shadow as a back up plans.

Thankfully that wasn't the case.

Leading them past the Treasure Room, I left some loot for them to make use in whichever way they saw fit.

"I must say, finding a treasury ċhėst wasn't amongst the things I had anticipated." Tyrion admitted while taking his share of the loot.

"Just don't waste all of it away with whores and alcoholic beverages." I remarked while making sure I've unlocked another castle.

"Heh, I would never…" Tyrion began apologizing, but I interrupted him again.

"You three are champions of the Seven, not to what the average cleric preaches about. Promiscuity and drinking are still sins, but in healthy doses they should never be mistaken as crimes." I told them. "Only your loyalty towards me has no space for tolerance. Betray me or those that follow me, and you are done."

"We understand." Daven spoke up after storing his share. "I will be bringing lots of improvements to Lannisport. Our travels have provided some excellent ideas I'm sure my father will appreciate."

"I'm hungry." Sandor shrugged, not much interest in using the money for anything other than food.

"Here, I got chicken." I told him and immediately noticed his eyes shining with excitement.

My Chef perk was bound to be useful once I became closer to my companions.

—————————————————————

In the distance, I could finally see the two castles of The Twins, one on each side of the river, and the stone bridge that passes between them.

This was the only crossing for hundreds of miles in the kingdom of the Riverlands.

If we were traveling to the North, say from Riverrun, we would be faced with just two options.

Cross here, paying the toll set by the Freys, or travel perhaps an extra 500 kilometers down to the Ruby Ford and back up the Kings Road.

The Freys knew this, and the toll they charge was high.

For peasants and traders, I doubt he asked more than the other option was worth. However, when the opportunity arises for a heftier sum (such as when Robb needed to bring his army south), a larger toll would be exacted.

This toll would be less of an exact sum, rather whatever Lord Frey decided he wanted.

He could've asked Robb for coin, as a normal toll would, but instead he asked for a betrothal.

And so, history of The Twins was really the history of one family, House Frey.

By Westeros standards they were actually quite a young house.

Around 600 years ago they were granted this land for reasons that appear lost to history, but it is know that the first Lord Frey set immediately to trying to build a bridge across the Green Fork.

There's a reason why no one had done this before, and it's because the Green Fork was a wide and swift flowing river.

It took the Freys three generations to build that bridge, and even then it was a humble thing made from wood.

But the Freys were nothing if not persistent and willing to plan for the long term.

They built wooden castles on both shores of the river to guard the bridge, and started charging people to cross it.

Over several more generations they upgraded both castles and the bridge to stone.

The castles became some of the strongest in the Seven Kingdoms, and the ever increasing toll revenue made the Freys one of the richest families.

They were now one of the most powerful bannermen of House Tully.

But they were not loved, or even respected, by most noble families.

Instead, they were viewed as upstarts and money grabbers.

And as my retinue and I approached, I was reminded that I too was expected pay the toll to make use of their bridge.

Soon enough some Frey outriders met us, expecting to know our business, until one of them recognized me and my banner.

"M-my prince, Lord Frey wasn't expecting your visit?" One of the Frey soldiers announced while him two others dismounted their horses and immediately bowed in respect.

"I hope that isn't a problem, Ser Otho." I replied, motioning for them to stand up and startling the man because I knew his name. "I've sent some of my Leggionaires to patrol the Riverlands, but was a little surprised at hearing that they haven't been allowed to take shelter in your Lord's castle."

"I-I… my prince…" The common soldier was at a loss for words as his embarrassment and fear for my group of men's stares showed.

"Do not worry, Ser Otho, to talk this through is precisely the reason of my visit." I calmed him. "Would you kindly lead us inside The Twins so I may properly negotiate with Lord Frey?"

The man nodded an quickly mounted his horse again, leading us and the other Frey outriders.

On our way, another party joined us.

It was Cleos Frey, followed by Hosteen Frey and Walder Rivers.

I've sent a raven a week ago summoning them in order to settle this matter with Lord Walder Frey once and for all.

The three Knights were leading a group of Leggionaires, with Hoster Tully acting as their general commander and Bronn as the second in command.

"It's good to see you all." I greeted them while riding my provisional horse. "Especially in one piece."

"Aye, my prince, likewise for you and your men." Cleo bowed his head while still mounted, followed by everyone else.

"Although it wasn't for lack of risks." The Bastard of Walder Frey remarked with his usual ċȯċky attitude.

"Nothing we couldn't handle." Hosteen added, displaying without shame a new scar across his nose.

"I'm pleased to hear it." I replied while signaling them to continue following us, as our groups of Leggionaires began marching in line. "And what about you Blackfish? Have the new recruits been meeting your expectations?"

"I certainly would not have spent my time training and leading them otherwise, my prince." He replied with a semblance of a grin. "The sellsword has been quite useful in weed out the talentless and useless."

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow and looked at Bronn with a small grin. "Guess the salary is quite the incentive."

"The payment doesn't cover for all the work and trouble I've been having to deal with." Bronn shrugged. "But I would be a fuċkɨnġ liar if I said that I could find anything better. Some of this fuċkers would ruin the sellsword line of job for me if they ever got tired of playing soldiers."

"I wasn't expecting such high praise, especially from you." I remarked with a chuckle.

"It's not that absurd given how many have been rejected." Bronn argued back. "Armies don't usually have the benefit of prioritizing quality over quantity."

"Indeed." The Blackfish agreed. "But it also means we might never have the same numbers that most forces have."

"It's known that despite their much smaller numbers, The Unsullied have bested The Dothraki more than enough times for anyone to claim luck. Our priority must always be to have a solid foundation." I told them. "I've already added Lord Tarly and his commanding skills to my Royal Legion. Not to mention more influence in the kingdom of the Reach as a whole."

"So that's why you've summoned us here, my prince." Cleos finally realized. "You want to officially set The Twins as one of your Royal Legion's headquarters."

"But isn't Riverrun a more appropriate place to do such thing?" The Blackfish questioned, drawing a small reaction from the three Freys. "I meant no disrespect, of course."

As the Freys seemed more acostumed with Tully's manners, I answered his question. "Well, I've been avoiding trapping my Legion into political matters. Lannisport instead of Casterly Rock and Hornhill instead of Highgarden. So it not only stands to reason that Riverrun would not be what I'm looking for, but also that the castle of the Freys has a more advantageous position in comparison to the other houses."

"If you put it that way…" The Blackfish said with some reservations in his tone.

"Besides, I ȧssumed you would prefer to not have to constantly deal with your brother." I persuaded him.

"Ah, I can see it now." He chuckled awkwardly. "Good call, my prince."

I nodded and ended our brief conversation.

The approach to The Twins was relatively pleasant, passing through apple orchards and a cornfield.

From what I could see, the towers at either end of the bridge were identical.

Moats have been dug around them, so they appeared to rise up out of the river with high curtain walls.

This might seem to isolate them and leave them vulnerable to a siege, but to do so one would need to beseech both sides of the river, which was more easily planned than done.

Each end of the bridge was formidable, with a drawbridge, portcullis and a barbican.

Suffice to say that they were both very defendable.

Access to the bridge was from the tower itself.

To get to it one must pass through all of the defensive structures that The Twins had to offer.

But this wasn't just a pedestrian crossing, as two wagons could cross the bridge side-by-side or a whole army in a day.

In the middle of the low arched bridge was the water tower, rising lonely equidistant between The Twins.

It was built for two purposes, to house honored guests for the night and also to guard the bridge itself.

What I find most interesting about it was that my Mental Map informed me that the entrance to the Magical Dungeon of this castle was located here.

Should anyone get this far, they would be welcomed by a portcullis blocking their way, a hail of arrows from the water tower and boiling oil from the murder holes above.

I will be frank, this place did not pretend to be a welcoming place.

Even those who were welcome here must pay for the privilege.

Inside the eastern end of the bridge, I noticed there were some differences.

The Great Hall of Lord Frey was on the eastern segment of the castle, and it was not hard, when one was here most likely begging the leave of the Lord of The Twins, to understand the antipathy of the other noble houses.

This was built like a throne room, with a great oak hume throne-like chair for the man who styles himself as the Lord of the

Crossing.

Its back shaped like The Twins themselves, two towers carved at either end beside an arching bridge.

The hall was two stories high, with a gallery high above the guests, built for musicians no doubt.

Or onlookers, some time even armed with crossbows.

"Why have you come… my prince?" Asked Lord Walder Frey, not openly disrespecting me, but neither bowing down in respect like some of his soldiers were doing.

Although my Royal Legion still have so much to grow, it was nice to have it linked to my name.

"It is a great pŀėȧsurė to see you, Lord Frey." I answered him with the courtesy he didn't deserve. "And I'm quite grateful for your hospitality." I smiled at some of his daughters that were in attendance, gaining some chuckles and blushes in return.

"Indeed…" Walder got comfortable in his chair and enjoyed the sweet words I was telling him. "… Even though I've had Kings as my guests before, you are the first prince to come. A very precocious child from what I've heard, eh?"

"Merely one that is very eager to make things happen." I told him without openly antagonizing him. "I've heard that my main concern should be to not die young as a result."

"Wise advice, I would say." Walder grinned. "But I do see some similarities between us. Of course, not counting your abnormal hair and eyes… and height. Gods you are an abnormal lad."

While some of his children gasped and my followers grasped their weapons waiting for my command to punish the shameless Lord, I smiled.

What a joke.

We were stark contrast of each other.

I was a very healthy six (almost to be seven) years old Crown Prince who was currently building his army.

He on the other side, was a infirm eighty-two years old Small Lord, who has hid his entire life inside this castle.

Even for moder world society, his age was uncommon. Just imagine, for this time and place, how much it speaks of his cowardice and lateness for battle.

Even his children were eager to get rid of him, the only thing stopping any drastic action being the chaos resulting from deciding who should rule The Twins.

I certainly supported his second son, Emmon Frey, since he has married Genna Lannister.

But that leaves me to find a way of getting rid of his firstborn, Stevron, and his heirs.

"Oh, grandfather, you forget yourself…" Cleos spoke, trying to be useful in defusing the situation. "… Prince Durrandon…"

"Who spoke to you? The prince is talking to the lord of this castle." Interrupted Lord Frey, immediately shutting Cleos. "Until I die, I'm still lord of this castle. Do I look dead to you?"

Before Hosteen or Walder Rivers attempted to support the one they picked to one day lead House Frey, I raised my hand and shut them before they spoke.

"Where are my manners?" I said, faking humbleness as if I wasn't bothered by his words, Walder Frey certainly didn't seem to care either way. "You've asked why I've come and here I am bothering you with discussion about me."

Walder Frey raised an eyebrow.

"You see, I've come to make a deal with you, Lord Frey." I finally revealed. " The Royal Legion would like to stablish camp here in your castle."

"And what does I have to gain from this deal?" Walder Frey asked without ceremony.

"Other than the immediate protection from the Leggionaires hosted here? I'll be sure to have your house provide with the necessary supply to endure the winter and the adequate agriculture work to fill your table during the rest of the year."

"Food? Is that all I gain from residing your soldiers inside my castle?" Lord Frey questioned with a serious expression, but I could see he wasn't that stupid to actually not know how valuable it was since the winters have become harder and more frequent.

"I'm afraid that's all I can directly offer you." I made a sorry expression. "But indirectly, I'm sure your own soldiers will have much to gain from training alongside my Royal Leggionaires. Besides, since it's their responsibility to keep the peace and order of the Riverlands, I'm confident that merchants will be much more confident to venture inland and even positively inclined to pay the toll to cross your bridge."

That's it.

This deal was much better than anything he could have hoped for.

The only thing that remained was him to accept it.

In the case he was dumb enough to decline, I would have to simply start building a new bridge myself.

Besides, I wasn't expecting Lord Walder to live as long as he did in the books, so the one that ruled after him might have a better head over his shoulders and accept my terms.

"What do you say, Lord Frey?" I brought him out of his thinking. "Will that suffice?"

Walder Frey eventually nodded his head, unwilling to vocally accept defeat in bargaining with a child.

"Splendid, your Water Tower will serve as perfect battle post." I announced before my men began cheering in celebration. "After some renovation, of course."

Walder has always been irascible, sharp of tongue, and blunt of manner, and this has only increased with age.

In a way, he reminded me of the Queen of Thorns.

Which was funny, since I've sought to preserve her health, but I'm actually considering murdering the Weasel Lord myself.

He did view himself as another Tywin Lannister, but it seems that I've outplayed him as well.

Never understood why Walder Frey never changed his 'Throne room' to the Water Tower, since it was not only closer to both ends of his bridge, but also built to repel advances from both sides.

Sucks to be him I guess, because the Twins were as good mine.

For now, this was not somewhere I wish to stay longer than I must, so let us be on our way.

Our next stop would be somewhere just as strategically positioned, in my opinion.

Seagard, seat of house Mallister.

—————————————————————

(25/12/2021)

*Hope this chapter is of your liking.

Anything you wish to ask or suggest, feel free to do so.

Check out my auxiliary chapter if you still haven't.

Thanks as always for your attention and please be safe.

Any problems with my writing, just point them out and I will correct them as soon as possible.

** To those that aren't fans of the MC revealing his powers to people, I have three arguments as to why I'm not keeping it a complete secret. First, he will eventually be known as a powerful individual capable of wielding magic. Second, it's much more helpful for those serving him to be made aware of some aspects like his magic, in order to either persuade them or merely make them useful in helping the MC work with his plans. Third, it helps me avoid writing everything as a jornal of everything that is happening without dialogues.

*** Merry Christmas everyone!!! 🎅🎄🎁😁