GOT/ASOIAF: A Game Of Ice And Fire

Winter has come.

Come to think of it, my generation had experienced it much more than our parents and grandparents did.

Regardless, I found myself standing in the middle of my bedroom chamber, in front of my large bed with my hands raised in front of me with sweat covering my forehead.

Gathering the Mana inside me and pushing it forward, I brought both hands together before raising my hand forward.

"ELDRITCH BLAST!" I said with a magical filter modulating my voice.

Summoning a swirling ball of crackling energy among my palm, that hit my improvised target with great force, blowing it back against the stone wall.

It felt like lightning to me.

But my previous knowledge about RPG games, plus the clear description of the cantrip, enlightened me that it was pure magical force.

One that monsters did not frequently have resistance or immunity to.

With a range of at least thirty five meters, and some hints that leveling it up would bring much more than added damage, I knew this could become one of my most OP spells.

If my time playing D&D served me right, this cantrip would also add other adjacent beams to my disposal, allowing me to decide between hitting multiple targets, or focusing on someone in specific.

Usually, one is required to be a Warlock to be able to cast this Cantrip.

You know, making a pact and all.

But since that wasn't the case for me, perhaps I might even get some invocations as well.

Dope!

"MAGE HAND." I chanted before conjuring a ghost-like hand to put everything in place without having to do so myself.

Shaking my hand in a dismissive gesture after finish, I cancelled the magical phenomenon occurring.

Best of all, cantrips didn't actually consume my mana.

Sure, some had a few annoying material requirements, like a bit of lodestone, fleece or copper wire, but that can easily be circumvented since my INVENTORY doesn't seem to have a limit.

Following that, I then mentally pictured someone in particular and pointed my index finger towards the ground.

"MINOR ILLUSION." I chanted.

Immediately, the image of my dear mother appeared sitting in front of me.

She seemed sentient, but didn't make any sound.

"THAUMATURGY."

Giving voice to the illusionary Cersei in front of me, having her hum a song from my previous life, I inspected her features and noticed she was exactly as I imagined her to be.

Soon enough, after attempting to alter it after already casted and failing, I concluded that I didn't have full control over my illusions however I saw fit.

At least for now.

Though the illusion seemed exactly as I had envisioned it.

Proof of this was that the next time I casted Minor Illusion showed the Queen in more revealing clothes.

It was excellent in regards to the creative potential that I could use this spell, but the bad side was that without reaching higher levels of it, I was stuck with a single illusion that produced no other sensory effect.

Thankfully, Thaumaturgy's illusionary sound made up for that.

After a minute, the illusion disappeared and I proceeded to try my next spell.

When I took my iron dagger from my INVENTORY (not having forgotten it back at the dungeon) to anyone else, it appeared that I'd pulled it out of thin air.

Cutting a hole in my clothes and placing both hands over the cut.

"MENDING."

After focusing my mana for a minute, the fabric transmuted into its original form, leaving no trace of its previous damage.

Appearing to have just been washed clean due to my previous use of Thaumaturgy.

It is deceptively useful.

I could simply open my shop and make a fortune repairing gear, clothes and even weapons.

With luck, I might even be capable of closing wounds on living creatures.

To proceed with my magical test drive, I approached the large mirror on the wall.

After a brief moment to activate my most complementary cantrip, I blinked.

"THAUMATURGY."

And immediately after opening my eyes, I noticed the sudden change to their color.

My eyes were now of the color green, similar to my half-siblings.

Hum...

If I find a decent way to change my hair's appearance, stealth would come even more naturally.

Sighing as I lowered my focus, wanting to test the limit and capabilities of my spells, I confirmed none of them were dependent on me focusing after they were casted.

Perks of cantrip, I guess.

They were magical in nature, of course I wanted to use them more.

But the vocal component was somewhat tricky to deal with since I wanted to avoid the attention of magic-haters like Varys.

However, before I could consider the matter further, my mental minimap warned me that any more strange sound would finally draw unwanted attention from the guards patrolling the halls.

I just unequipped my clothes since I didn't need to throw them away to be cleaned.

Thaumaturgy was indeed a Swiss knife.

I'm sure Jayne will appreciate having less work to do.

Now nȧkėd as the day I was born, I decided to walk into my bath and slowly slipped inside.

The bubbling warm water battered against my tired muscles.

Casting Thaumaturgy again, I made the water even hotter.

The heat smoothed my crunched up muscles, relaxing them.

As usual, I had been up all night either training or reading.

Now I had magic to add to that list.

Hey, I'm not complaining.

Leaning back on the bathtub's rim and opening my INVENTORY, I pulled out one of my legendary swords.

Since acquiring them, I hadn't come up with a decent name.

Truth be told I was terrible with names.

Proud of my reward, I raised it up in the air, its Valyrian Steel blade shining even in the shadow.

Mostly due to its magical nature.

I remembered when I first tested its sharpness.

That time I had almost mimicked Wolverine's actions in the bathroom during his terrible origin movie.

They were crazy sharp.

When I attempted to slightly scratch my iron dagger, I was stunned when I noticed how easily the Valyrian Steel edge sliced through it as if the iron was buŧŧer.

Ser Barristan might beat an untrained adversary wielding a Valyrian Steel weapon, but I doubt he could do anything against someone that could pull it out of thin air.

After inspecting the short sword and pondering about where I could learn about enchanting inscriptions, I stored it again.

Slowly the time passed and I got out of the water.

After getting myself dry with Thaumaturgy, I walked up to the large ċhėst in my room and with a little Mage Hand use had it open.

Can't wait to have it invisible and pretend I'm using the Force.

Inside the ċhėst were several of my well crafted and comfortable clothings that I wore on a daily basis.

Quickly putting on a set of small black pants that were made of padded woolen, which was very expensive for the common man but also the only protective gear I could get away with wearing all day.

I wore a small white shirt over it, put on a set of fine boots and wrapped a fine scarlet and golden belt around my waist.

This set of clothes were given to me as a gift for my fifth nameday.

Gathering all my best clothes and storing them in my INVENTORY, I've been postponing doing that for a while now.

Quickly leaving my chamber and walking through the corridors, I headed towards my destination while pondering.

From what I was able to uncover, Rhaegar's daughter is secured really tightly.

Almost five years and it was only by coincidence that we were able to meet.

I've talked to Alysse and she admitted that she hadn't talked to Rhaenys either, only some rumors of her bad temper.

At least with her alive, the Martells won't dare to publicly oppose the crown or the Lannisters.

Reaching the stairs that led to the dining hall I continued making my way.

Speaking of Alysse, Jon Arryn shouldn't have had another child besides the sick and frail "Robin" with Lyssa.

No doubt, this will change things.

The dining hall of the Red Keep was busy, filled to the brim with servants working to serve the nobles.

I proceeded quietly inside and the Royal family were already eating their breakfast.

While Robert looked really hungry as he ate without caring for etiquette, Cersei looked like a proper lady showing no emotion at all while Lord Hand Jon Arryn looked concerned.

The moment I stepped into the light, the others began to acknowledge my presence.

I approached my mother and kissed her on the cheek while saying good morning to everyone.

Cersei smiled as she replied back.

Her features betrayed some lack of sleep.

From what I could see, my little half-siblings were growing fast.

Not as much as I had, but faster than the average baby.

Although, perhaps not fast enough for my mother.

Please, if there actually is a DM out there, don't make them self inserts like me!

It would be such a bummer and unnecessary drama!

"Took you long enough boy! Had some trouble sleeping?" Robert's voice boomed before he began chopping at his bread.

Simply bowing respectfully, I replied. "I'm sorry for my delay, father. I was just busy doing my morning exercises. It's the only way one finds to not suffer from the cold."

"Ah, as good a motive as any... er, son." Robert stated. "So is it true you want to visit the city? Amidst this damn winter?"

"Indeed, father. It's actually the perfect time for such endeavors. I understand that because of the season, King's Landing is supposed to be less chaotic than usual." I answered in a polite tone. "I've already talked with Maester Pycelle and Lord Commander Barristan, they concluded the same and even suggested some places for me to visit. For now, I only request your permission."

The King sighted, he had discussed with Cersei for the whole night due to my rush to learn how to fight.

Not that Cersei actually cared for my well-being, she just enjoyed nagging Robert.

Clearing his throat, Robert spoke. "So be it. You have my permission, I'll arrange some guards to escort you later."

"Are you sure it's a good idea Robert?!" Cersei spoke. "I mean, our son can wait a few years, he still is too young."

I chuckled at that. "Please, don't worry mother. I promise to stay out of trouble."

{LIE SUCCEEDED!}

"Either way, you should first eat something, my Prince. No matter how fast you grow, everyone needs to eat before adventuring into such a city as King's Landing, regardless of the season." The Lord Hand spoke up as he smiled before returning his attention to his food and returning to his concerned expression as he remembered something.

Meanwhile, Lyssa Tully was seated besides Lord Arryn ignoring everything while scheming on how to get Petyr Baelish into the small council.

Alysse was seated as well by Jon's side, and after hearing her father's words, simply winked at me.

I just nodded back and carefully walked up to the table, after I sat down, a worker came up and started serving me food.

We quietly ate our meals after that as my thoughts slowly slipped back to my last adventure into the castle's magical dungeon, and all the rewards I've got from it.

I now had a lair exclusively mine, a place for me to do whatever I wanted.

As long as I finished getting rid of the remaining zombies.

Especially that one that threw a fireball at me.

Opening my status window and looking over everything I had acquired, I listed.

I had my high level potions, legendary swords and some spells.

Oh, and gold, lots of it.

20,000 if I'm not mistaken.

Not to mention I still had a thousand Nexus coins to spend at my market, but I decided to save them as a last resort, at least until I learned how to farm those coins.

Soon enough, everyone had finished their meal and we went our separate way.

Closing the window and leaving the hall, I concluded that the gaming system was slowly making me immune to the cold, which was something I knew might eventually save my life.

Even northerners and the wildlings didn't have this capability.

Sure, they were used to the cold, but immune?

Unlikely.

Just imagine, by the point I raise this skill high enough, I will be able to roam around the Lands of Always Winter nȧkėd.

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

Soon the days started to blur together.

I spent most time training in the yard with Barristan, studying with Pycelle, grinding my cantrips and spending time with my half-siblings.

Not caring much for the chilling climate.

And by doing so my stats had improved vastly.

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

TITLE: Durrandon Baratheon (Crown Prince)

LEVEL: 10 (245/1000)

HP: 100/100

SP: 100/100

MP: 10/10*

MAGIC CONTROL: 93%

ALLEGIANCE: The Iron Throne

PWR: <16>

END: <17>

MOB: <18>

INT: <21>

STL: <17>

DEF: 9* (padded clothes)

MAG: 10*

STAT POINTS: 25

PERK POINTS: 5

SKILLS: ~open list~

PERKS: ~list~

TIME PLAYED: 5 years

MONEY: 20,000 GOLD/ 0 SILVER/ 0 COPPER/ 1000 NC

($) MARKET

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

I had been quickly improving myself.

Ever since that time in the dungeon, I realised I had only survived by cheating.

Granted, there was more dumb luck involved in it to allow me to cheat so shamefully.

I had managed to improve my physical stats by a lot, constantly pushing myself.

And also improving my knowledge base a lot.

I read and taught Alysse for INT while also sharing many interesting conversations with Pycelle, learning a lot from his experience, and even convincing him to research some topics they themselves weren't comprehending.

But I hadn't been just training and reading, having also been on a streak of quests as well.

I had leveled up a few of my skills too.

{COMMON TONGUE Lv- 20 (55%)}

{HOW MUCH YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE COMMON TONGUE OF WESTEROS}

{HIGH VALYRIAN Lv- 20 (34%)}

{HOW MUCH YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE LANGUAGE OF THE OLD VALYRIAN FREEHOLDS.}

{OLD TONGUE Lv- 20 (11%)}

{HOW MUCH YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE LANGUAGE OF THE FIRST MEN.}

{OLD GHISCARI Lv- 20 (5%)}

{HOW MUCH YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE LANGUAGE OF THE OLD EMPIRE OF GHIS.}

{SUMMER TONGUE Lv- 20 (1%)}

{HOW MUCH YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THE LANGUAGE OF THE SUMMER ISLANDS.}

{LAND LAYOUT: KING'S LANDING Lv- 10 (67%)}

{THE LAYOUT OF KING'S LANDING AND THE LAND NEXT TO IT. TOTAL KNOW LAYOUT: 100%. *Doesn't include hidden landmarks.}

{TEACH Lv-10 (56%)}

{MEDICINE KNOWLEDGE Lv- 20 (06%)}

{OBSERVE Lv- 20 <Identify person Lv- 15(10%)}

{OBSERVE Lv- 20 <Evaluate object Lv- 5 (78%)}

{OBSERVE Lv- 20 <Appraise creature Lv- 8 (45%)}

I had focused mostly on learning everything about King's Landing.

If I was going to go on an adventure into the capital city, I would definitely need such knowledge to make my decisions.

I've also made great advances on Animal Handling and Training, my cat shadow was even more obedient as a result.

Perhaps one step away from having some sort of telepathic bond with it.

I was even evolving my skill on the multiple stray cats that plagued the Red Keep that shadow helped me gather.

A small army of well trained cats might sound ridiculous for now, but just wait when I reach the high leagues.

I already had a small group of rats and doves that were returning every day for training, as I had ordered.

And of course, I also had leveled up some of my physical skills as well.

{BLADED WEAPON MASTERY Lv- 14 (12%)}

{RANGED WEAPONS MASTERY Lv- 11 (1%)}

I knew I wasn't the best swordsman nor marksman in the world, but I was definitely getting better, and could give most foot soldiers a run for their money.

Being at least as tall and more stronger as a ten year old kid, was probably the result of never skipping a meal and raising my stats all that fast.

And while studying nonstop wasn't my favorite thing in the world, it was the most effective way of improving my Intelligence stat, the most broken stat by the way.

It also allowed me to better teach others what I knew myself.

It was similar to animal training, but on humans!

Having an elite private army didn't sound bad to me either.

Quite the contrary, I would say.

But I quickly noticed that things were becoming harder and harder for him again.

Even with such amazing tutors and frequent long grinding sections, the skills were becoming more and more difficult to level up again.

I already guessed that the higher a level a skill possessed the more difficult it was to level it up.

So while I would still make future progress, it wouldn't be as much as my current days are.

Finally remembered something I had postponed for enough time.

Open Status Window!

As I selected the available perk list, and investigated what I gained during my Dungeon raid, I found myself having to make a decision.

{Perk List}

<AVAILABLE PERKS

{INTELLIGENCE PERK: HEALER}

(COST 2 PP)

You are an able physician, allowing you to mend wounds quickly and get your allies back in the fight. You gain the following benefits: When you use a healer's kit to stabilize a dying creature, that creature also regains half of its entire health. As an instant action, you can spend one use of a healer's kit to tend to a creature and restore a quarter of its entire health. The creature can't regain health from this instant action again until it finishes a short or long rest.

{INTELLIGENCE PERK: LINGUIST}

(COST 2 PP)

You have studied languages and codes, gaining the following benefits: Increase your Intelligence score by 1. You learn three languages of your choice. You can ably create written ciphers. Others can't decipher a code you create unless you teach them.

{INTELLIGENCE PERK: OBSERVANT}

(COST 2 PP)

Quick to notice details of your environment, you gain the following benefits: Increase your Intelligence score by 1. If you can see a creature's mouth while it is speaking a language you understand, you can interpret what it's saying by reading its lips.

Hum...

Not bad!

Let me see…

Although the linguist perk isn't bad, it's completely outshined by the others.

Observant was an adequate upgrade of the Observing skill, but I'd rather go with Healer, since it would be excellent to make the Mending cantrip finally become a reliable healing tool.

After making my choice, I spent some Perk points and began to get ready for my tour around the city.

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

Although I was being tailed by two guards, charged to shield me from any harm, I was allowed to choose my way around the capital city.

I bet, to the annoyance of my ȧssigned defenders.

But before meeting them at the entrance of the Red Keep, first I made a brief walkthrough the castle, which I was finally able to explore thoroughly.

Speaking of it.

When Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters-wives launched their invasion from Dragonstone, a castle on the island of the same name at the entrance to Blackwater Bay, this whole area was little more than disputed lands and overgrown ruins.

But Aegon saw the potential in it, both as a defensible position and a geopolitically important location, and so he built an earthen and wooden palisade atop the highest hill, that became known as the Aegonfort back then.

The basic motte and bailey was a temporary structure though.

But after the conquest was accomplished, Aegon thought it was important that his new capital was on the mainland, so he authorized the construction of what is now well known as the Red Keep.

Whose red stone walls loom high above the slums and smells of King's Landing, encouraging the expansion of the settlement that had started then.

Such was the scale of the building project, that it wasn't until the reign of Aegon's son, that the Red Keep was completed.

His son was King Maegor, well remembered today as Maegor the Cruel.

And his cruelty was perhaps best shown after the completion of the Red Keep, when he ordered the murder of everyone who had been involved in the design and construction of the castle, so that only he new all of its secret tunnels and hidey-holes.

And there were apparently many of them.

Quite the useful training for my OBSERVE skill.

Observing the castle that has housed me since my birth, made me notice.

It was built in a classical style with a high curtain wall and imposing barbican, being in essence a stronghold within a larger stronghold of the city itself.

If invading enemies got past the city walls, they still needed to face the uphill struggle of Aegon's hill and no doubt a hail of arrows from the walls of the castle.

And the defenders would be well placed to withstand an elongated siege if necessary.

Though that didn't stop my Grandfather after his man sacked the city.

Inside the curtain wall of the castle were granaries, storehouses, wells and all manner of other essential practical buildings, now operating at full capacity to compensate for the harsher and more frequent winters.

The final place of refuge of this fortification would be Maegor's Holdfast, a stand-alone structure within the castle with a wall twelve feet thick and its own dry moat.

This was where my chamber was located and where a last stand would be taken against any invader.

No doubt, this was a castle, not just a palace.

But it was also a palace.

As well as all that was needed for the harsh realities of siege warfare, there was everything that was needed to create comfort for the King and his court, as well for the management of the realm.

There was a godswood of course, albeit with a magnificent oak instead of a weirwood.

A sept for the private use of the high folk.

A rookery in the Grand Maester's office, where Pycelle oversaw communications across the Seven Kingdoms.

And a ballroom where the guests were entertained deep into the night.

The keep itself was the seat of the King's power and the great hall within it.

There lies the iron throne itself, forged from the thousand swords of Aegon's vanquished foes in the fury of Balerion the Dread flames.

For real this time, none of that cheap thing portrayed in the tv show.

As a result, It was uglier, and actually potentially deadly for someone that wasn't careful while sitting on it.

It's there where Robert, or more often, Jon Arryn held court with the Small council, receiving petitions from the people and foreign dignitaries.

It was there where I first met Jalabhar Xho and his exuberant coat of colorful feathers.

The man was nice to talk with, speaking both the Common Tongue and his native Summer Tongue, which helped me with leveling that skill for me, as did his skill with the bow and arrow.

Although, beneath his jewels and feathers, mother considered him to be little more than a highborn beggar.

He revealed to me that he was the exiled Prince of the Red Flower Vale, exiled due to losing a highly ritualized war as per the tradition of the Summer Isles.

Jalabhar came to King's Landing in the Seven Kingdoms to request gold and swords from King Robert I Baratheon to help him regain the Red Flower Vale.

Father always entertained the notion of conquering the Summer Isles, but continuously told Jalabhar that he would put it off until the next year.

Although the King always put off Jalabhar's request for help, he never firmly declined him, telling him "Next year" instead of "No".

While Jalabhar continued to occasionally petition the Iron Throne to win back his seat, he had become a noted courtier at King's Landing.

Having no other place to seek refuge, the exiled Prince of the Red Flower Vale was one of the most colorful figures at court I've met, alongside Thoros of Myr.

Man, that Red Priest was really euphoric and friendly towards anyone.

A tall, fat man in flapping red robes, who shaved his head and had a smooth face as well.

Being born in the Free City of Myr, the youngest of eight children, he was given to a red temple of R'hllor at a young age.

He earned his priesthood but was never overly pious due to his tastes for fighting, drinking, and women.

That explained why father liked him that much.

Thoros was sent to King's Landing in hopes he could convert the fire-obsessed King Aerys II Targaryen, but he was unsuccessful and started to question his own faith.

Nowadays he noticeably enjoys drinking wine, constantly joking that he became a red priest because the robes would hide wine stains.

He was fond of feasts and tourneys, having a gift for tongues as well as some success seeing visions in flames.

Though I wasn't convinced yet that those visions were some sort of divination magic or mere illusion, casted by an unknown figure.

Regardless, he had a reputation as a brave madman with an absurd but dangerous firesword, which I wondered if I could replicate with my Valyrian swords.

That would be neat.

Anyway…

Although the hall itself had remained a constant through the centuries, it hasn't stayed looking the same, with father hiding all the Targaryen dragons's skulls in order to display his hunting trophies.

One constant however, was the Kingsguard, seven noble knights sworn to defend the King.

Their base built in one of the Red Keep's outer walls, overlooking the sea was the white sword tower.

That was their barracks, their armory and their spiritual home, home to the famous white book.

Which was two feet wide, a foot and a half tall, and a thousand pages thick, recording all the deeds of all the members of the Kingsguard since its founding three centuries ago.

Turning away from these lofty ideals to the day-to-day running of the kingdom and gazing up at the tower of the hand.

I acknowledged that in that imposing tower was where the Hand of the King lived, with his Tully wife and daughter.

And also, from what I've learned, that tower was where Rhaenys was kept secured as the Crown's Ward.

Well, would you look at that, an actual princess being kept in the highest room of the highest tower, waiting to be rescued by her Knight in shining armor.

It would be romantic if it wasn't too weird and funny.

Lately I've been sneaking up at night and exploring the Red Keep, and from what I could gather, that tower was the focal point for the network of tunnels built through the Red Keep.

I wonder how frequently the Spider passed through it.

Changing subjects, I was also getting familiar with the layout of the four levels dungeon that sat below the castle.

Sadly this one wasn't magical.

While the top level of the dungeons was for petty criminals, the second for highborn prisoners and the third level known as the black cells were a grim prospect that allowed no light or even a buck for waste.

Only the most heinous criminals or politically important ones were kept there.

The final level being used for interrogation, through painful means if necessary.

But enough about this scarlet structure, King's Landing as a whole was something else.

I finally met with the two guards ȧssigned to guard me, and by using OBSERVE on them showed that they weren't impressive by themselves.

Not even a single "?" marks showed among those foot soldiers status, which made me conclude that status between 10 and 20 were a step above the common rabble, but not good enough to be considered as an elite.

If that line of thought was correct, perhaps 20-30 would be elite level and 30-40 would be where the most renowned in their arts belonged.

Beyond that I can only imagine.

Back to my mental monologue.

As one arrives in King's Landing, be it by any means, road or boat, the first thing that will definitely strike anyone would be the size of it.

While I read that Essos could boast larger cities, nothing in Westeros could match King's Landing, and it keeps on growing.

In recent years, the small folk have even expanded out beyond the city's wall itself, building their huts and hovels and trading posts along the dockside and clustered around the various city's gates.

One will also notice the stench.

I mean, how could they not?!

I've leveled up my poison resistance, not only due to this world's different comprehension over hygiene, but by actually just breathing this air.

It is no urban myth that the city could be smelled from miles away, carried by the strong sea breeze I'm sure.

The introduction of sewers, drainage and wells throughout the city two centuries ago, by Jaehaerys the Conciliator, may have reduced the risk of diseases running rampant through the city, but they seemed to have done little to improve its sole factory appeal.

The skyline was dominated by the three hills known as Aegon's hill, Visenya's hill and Rhaenys' hill, clearly named after the three original invading Targaryen, with huge structures sitting atop each of them.

The Red Keep on Aegon's hill as I've just recap, the great sept of Baelor on Visenya's hill (my first destination) and the Dragonpit on Rhaenys' hill.

Not a place I could properly explore with these guards tailing me, at least not without having them spread unwanted suspicion with their gossip.

The city walls and gates that barred the passage to the city itself were composed of seven gates, a diplomatic move by Aegon the Conqueror to the religion he adopted as his own after the invasion.

The faith of the seven.

After walking for a while through the half-empty streets, I've arrived at Visenya's hill, tarrying for a moment at the foot of the hill.

There, before reaching the plazas at the top of the hill, I noticed the alchemists guild stretching along the street of the sisters.

In contrast to the spacious white marble of the Sept, the guild is a warren of black marble.

The guards didn't like my choice, even though I could just order them to do as they were told, I opted for caution and ȧssured them with some persuasion.

Back to the grim cave.

The alchemists that are based here may now seem little more than a cultural oddity, but they were once the most powerful guild in the land, even more so than the Maesters at Oldtown.

Crazy, isn't it?

Their guild building was not just where they met, but also where they manufactured and stored wildfire, named by them the substance.

I've met the pyromancer Hallyne, the head of the Alchemists' Guild.

He welcomed me quite eagerly, perhaps he thought he could impress me enough for me to give them my patronage, like some Targaryen Kings and Princes once did.

Perhaps I will.

But not publicly, I was a firm believer of the theory regarding the Maesters' conspiracy against magic.

Having to keep my secrets from Varys had its annoying limits.

Though nothing prevented me from acting from the shadows as a third party, I wanted after all to see if the Alchemists could help me improve my understanding and control over my magic.

After all, the books weren't clear if they were actually full of shit or the real deal.

Let's hope for the latter.

Back to my tour, as one would expect, the Guildhall was a gloomy building, not just because of the color of the walls, but because for obvious reasons the use of flames was restricted here.

It was merely one of many safety measures implemented here.

The rooms where the wildfire was prepared had supposedly numerous protective enchantments placed on them.

And the ceiling was in fact a trap door triggered by the presence of fire, which once opened dumped tons of sand into the room, immediately extinguishing all fire.

The alchemists would ȧssure me that this made it impossible for an accidental explosion that could destroy not just the Guildhall, but possibly a large segment of Visenya's hill as well.

Frankly, it is reassuring to think no one would succeed in copying Cersei's plan from the tv show, but I still needed to find all of the hidden jars spread around the city.

Because I ȧssume Jaime didn't go on a hunt for them after killing the Pyromancer following the Mad King's order.

Taking the opportunity to OBSERVE the jars of Wildfire, a window popped up, providing through its enciclopedic explanation how far the skill had progressed.

{ALCHEMIST'S FIRE}

{Wildfire is a murky green liquid. Once set aflame, the wildfire will burn with dark, emerald and jade green flames. Cold will thicken liquid wildfire, but heating it will make the liquid flow. Being considered a treacherous substance since once it ignites, it will burn for a long time, beyond the control of men. Even a thin layer of wildfire will burn for an hour even on water, and seeps into most materials, like cloth, wood, leather, and steel, which will then go up in flames. The pyromancers claim that only dragonflame, the fires beneath the earth, and the summer sun burn hotter than wildfire. Age impacts wildfire as well. While it is implied that new wildfires can still somewhat be controlled, as claimed by the alchemists, old wildfires are 'fickle'; any flame or spark can set them off. Too much heat, such as being exposed to sunlight for even a short time,could lead to a fire. Once the fire begins, the heat will make the liquid wildfire expand violently. Older jars of wildfire are transported from place to place only by night, in carts filled with sand to lessen jostling at all, and then sealed in wax and placed in rooms pumped full of water.}

DAMAGE TYPE: FIRE AND RADIANT

(?) FIRE DAMAGE

Fire Damage is a fairly common type alongside Piercing, Slashing and Bludgeoning. And as most people can imagine, it can be caused through creative ways, from being caught in a fire itself to getting hit with a firebomb.

(?) RADIANT DAMAGE

Pure holy energy. Because of its holy nature, creatures of an undead nature are generally vulnerable to this type of damage causing them to take extra effects from sources of radiant damage.

Wow! It's better than I thought it would be.

Fire was expected, but radiant? That's usually reserved to Paladins and Clerics.

Certainly an excellent way of cleaning that magical Dungeon for good, not only could I safely guard it on my INVENTORY as bombs, but perhaps even lit my Valyrian blades with it.

Damn, that would be even better.

I'm definitely coming back to strike a deal with these Alchemists.

But until then, concluding my brief tour around the guild, I continued with my exploration of the city for the day.

After finally climbing Visenya's hill… I saw it.

The Great Sept was the brainchild of Baelor the Blessed, the ninth Targaryen King, a hundred and thirty or more years ago whose statue stood proudly in front of the Sept, gazing serenely out over the marble plaza and gardens.

In truth, if Pycelle's teachings about religion were to be trusted, it wasn't the first Sept to be built here.

The High Septon in Oldtown ordered one built there once it was obvious that Aegon the First, the Conquering king, would be establishing King's Landing as his new capital.

But whatever that looked like, it wasn't enough for Baelor the Blessed, whose great piety led to what I see today.

Especially after Maegor burned it to the ground when he found himself at war against the faith.

And that promoted the formal shift of the Faith of the Seven from being based in Old Town to its new place in the heart of the political power of the Seven Kingdoms.

Now, the Sept itself was an imposing edifice, a huge marble domed building surrounded by seven crystal towers which blink and shimmer in the summer sunlight.

My guards couldn't help but to acknowledge the holiness of this sacred place, or whatever they meant by that.

Regardless of superstition, each tower had a bell, when one was rung it was a specific summoning, which would bring the smallfolk running up Visenya's hill to hear an important announcement.

When all the bells were rang, it indicated that something really important was about to happen.

Sometimes this great cacophony would be heard across the city, lasting a day or more.

Lost some night sleep thanks to that tradition.

The entrance into the sept itself is through one of several doors, and one is expected to go through the right one.

Septons would go through the father's doorway, Septas through the mother's doorway and so on and so forth.

But ironically, and symbolically, they all led to the same place, the hall of lamps.

This was a well named hall for one should look up when entering to marvel at the globes of colored leaded glass that send intricate colorful patterns of light dancing across the walls.

Beyond that, other types of delights awaited the regular visitors as they entered the main sept.

There were seven marble laden aisles, and seven transepts crossing them, with seven altars, obviously one for each of the aspects of the seven who are one.

The Father represents Judgement.

Basically Zeus from Greek mythology.

The Mother represents Mercy.

Perhaps Hera, Zeus' wife.

The Warrior represents Combative Might.

A more noble depiction of Ares.

The Smith represents Creation and Protection.

A more respected depiction of Hephaestus.

The Maiden represents Innocence.

Perhaps a more pious version of Aphrodite.

The Crone represents Wisdom.

I liked to imagine her like the three fate sisters.

And the Stranger, the outcast embodiment of death.

Not gonna lie, I was a great fan of that Grim Reaper like entity.

Forget about the Many-faced god, demanding servitude from men, the Stranger was regarded in similar fashion to Lord Voldemort.

Most people didn't even dare to speak its name.

Regardless…

The huge windows made of stained glass and the immense dome overhead gleaming with gold glass and crystal made me realize that despite this world being stuck in what appeared to be the Middle Ages, they certainly managed to accomplish greater feats than the modern world as it struggled with its advanced technology and science.

Light abounds in this immense space, worship as in all sects varying according to which aspect being approached, wanderers seeking wisdom light a candle before the Crone, sailors praying to the Smith to keep them safe at sea, marriages taking place between the altars to the mother and the father and the Great Sept has seen its fair share of marriages, for it is where the rulers are wed.

Robert to Cersei.

Rhaegar to Elia.

And even Tywin Lannister, during his time as hand, to Joanna.

All of which represented the public face of the Faith.

But of course, there were some things that even the established religion of the land needed privacy.

For this, there were the vaults beneath the Sept.

Although I did enter, I knew that there one would only find cells for penitence to consider their sins, private chambers for the royal family to bury their dead and as I suspect, rooms filled with the wealth of the religion.

Not in cold currency, but in ornaments, vestments and jewelry accumulated over the centuries, these treasures rarely, if ever, saw the light of day.

If it was up to me, they certainly will.

The Faith of the Seven was a supportive pillar that brought most of the Seven Kingdoms together.

With a semblance of tolerance towards the North's old customs and the Rhonar's traditions.

Even the Ironborn religion to the Drowned God wasn't outright banned, despite its troublesome old ways.

I've read stories about how someone in my place would instigate conflict between the religions, declaring war over the heretics and descendants of the first man.

But to me that was short sighted.

I'm not proposing to make the world an Utopia where all religions are either accepted or forgotten, but making such a narrow minded choice would lead me to waste valuable ȧssets that could benefit the overall structure of my eventual empire.

I would still have the Faith of the Seven rule as dominant, but by accepting certain prospects of the other religions, like the Romans once did, I'm confident there was space for the others.

Incidentally, I needed to consolidate the power residing on the Iron Throne, which was actually threatened after the Targaryen dynasty was dethroned.

For that I should consider some sort of reprise of the conquest, though not necessarily all together.

Soon with the Greyjoy rebellion, I would have my first chance. To make it last longer than it originally did, I must make an alliance with another powerful house of the Iron Islands.

I'm considering the Goodbrothers of Hammerhorn, one of the most powerful houses from Great Wyk, the largest of the islands.

Since their wealth doesn't come from the Sunset Sea but from their mines, I believe they will be more open to favor the golden price over the iron one.

And unlike most great houses of the Iron Islands who claim direct descent from the Grey King, the Goodbrothers claim descent from the Grey King's eldest brother.

Even with the Ironborn being like the Dothraki, respecting strength over blood, I'm sure I can deal with it.

Now, as much as it pains me to consider, the North must revolt as it did in the books.

The Boltons are an obvious choice, especially if I managed to prevent Ramsey from becoming a problem.

Perhaps by keeping Roose's trueborn son, Domeric, alive.

Only then, with the rest of Westeros under one banner, will I seek to accomplish what no Targaryen had, even when their dragons were still a valuable ȧsset.

Subjugate Dorne.

And I had the perfect candidate for replacing the Martells, the Yronwoods.

At the present, both houses aren't on best terms, with Oberyn having killed their Lord through poison in a duel for first blood due to the young Martell having fuċkėd his wife.

Now, onto the rest of the city and back at the gates.

The city's gates: The dragon gate, the Old gate, the Iron gate, the gate of the Gods, the River gate (also known as the Mud gate), the Lion gate and the King's gate are all well fortified with a portcullis and a permanent guard.

If you look up to the top of the city walls, or along any of the main thoroughfares, you will soon see what will become a familiar sight in King's Landing...

The city's watch.

Known universally as the Gold Cloaks, after the dyed heavy padded wool cloaks they wear.

As a matter of fact, my ȧssigned guardians are part of the city's watch.

Unlike many other cities in Westeros, where the lord's own troops guard the walls and keep the peace where necessary, the Gold Cloaks were an independent force bankrolled by the king's own purse and dedicated to the safety and security of the city.

Lannisport and Oldtown may also have city watches paid for by their lord, but the gold cloaks serve no one but the crown and the city itself.

But let's not delude ourselves with some rose-tinted idea of the Gold Cloaks from the past.

They are but a shadow of the professionalized loyal forces led by prince Daemon Targaryen two centuries ago, as I've already proved after using OBSERVE to see their stats.

They may have a laudable egalitarian approach to promotion within their ranks, Lord Commander Janos Slynt being a butcher's son after all, but although their chainmail and long swords are enough to keep the peace among the smallfolk, we should not pretend that they are even approaching the discipline of regular soldiers.

There are countless rumors of bribes being accepted throughout the city and corruption at the highest levels.

But I digress…

As one enters through the gates, they are immediately faced with the splendor as well as the squalor of the city.

I will cover the squalor later as I finally debut on my night raids to enter the murky streets of flea-bottom and the abandoned grounds of the Dragonpit, but for now let me focus on the splendor.

The ways in which this city is noteworthy are almost too many to mention.

This is the most populous city in Westeros, with more than half a million souls within its walls.

It's also the center of its political life with the Iron Throne, and the Hand of the King, the one really in charge of running the seven kingdoms.

It's also the center of the main Faith, with the High Septon and the Great Sept as I've already explored.

The Maesters may be based at Old Town, but their Grand Maester is here.

Thankfully, Pycelle is more devoted to the Lannisters than he is to his own order.

And the Alchemists Guild is a noteworthy landmark as well, however lowly their satiation may now be.

King's Landing was where the finest artisans throng, like Tobho Mott, the master blacksmith.

Got to meet with him eventually, perhaps even befriend my half-brother.

And here in this city is located the largest port in Westeros, with the greatest trade running through it.

I'm working my way to earn the chance of receiving Stannis' teachings about leading armies and naval combat.

But the damn brooding man almost never visits the city, probably too occupied hating Dragonstone and organizing his efforts to capture Viserys and Daenerys.

And with Renly being still too young to be of any use for yet, I hoped to have better luck with my Lannister uncles.

Jaime aids me sometimes with my combat training, not having the same experience Barristan had, but still knowing one thing or two that made him such a great swordsman.

I must confess, the Kingslayer was a very cool guy.

He actually feels pride in my quick learning skill and was currently helping me to gain a teacher in Bravossi fighting style.

Hope Syrio accepts my offer like he did with Arya.

And as for Tyrion.

He still is with Tywin in Casterly Rock, having yet to come visit me, but through his letter it is more than obvious that he's curious about me.

Man, sorry Tyrion, but Tywin was such a badass.

That might explain why I favor the House of the Golden Lion so much.

They have three of my most favorite characters.

One of my favorite name day gifts was the Cyvasse board game with all the pieces masterfully crafted in wood that Tyrion sent me.

Though I don't have many people to play with, Alysse certainly finds the challenge of facing me worth her time.

Back on track…

Other cities may be older, but King's Landing was the beating heart of the Seven Kingdoms, with the great Roads of the Seven Kingdoms intercepting here.

The King's road from the North, the Rose road from the Reach and the Golden road from the Westerlands.

With them throng the people of this continent.

This was, by Westerosi standards, a new and young city, founded just three hundred years ago.

Let me say It has risen far.

It may not have an ancient castle like Storm's End or the centuries of learning and culture like Oldtown, or even the beauty and flowers of Highgarden.

But it is important, unmissable and central to everything that ever happens in the Seven Kingdoms.

So glad this is my starting point.

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(28/08/2020)

(29/09/2021)

*Apologies for my long absence.

Hope this chapter is of your liking.

Anything you wish to ask, 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.