Champions of the Gods and the Seventh Name Day

DURRANDON'S POV

After spending some time roaming around the Kingdom of the Reach without relying too much on the Rose Road, I was left wondering if the Riverlands wasn't initially a segment of the same territory that the Gardeners eventually lost to the Ironborn.

Sure, the regions the Tullys were lords of weren't known for their fertility and massive population, but they were still more fruitful than its neighboring kingdoms, the Crownlands and Westerlands. Not to mention how similar the Mander River was to the Trident.

With its upper reaches being muddy and rough, only allowing shallow-draught boats to sail freely, but by the time it reaches lower enough, the waters settle down, becoming clear, calm and are navigable by seagoing vessels that exit the continent through Oldtown.

On my way out of Horn Hill, instead of having my retinue stopping by Highgarden, as delightful as it was on our first stay, I decided to have my retinue push on upstream alongside the Cocklewhent, one of the tributaries of the great Mander river that was leading us to Ashford.

During one of our brief stops in order to allow my marching Legionnaires some rest and to replenish our supplies, I was approached by someone soon after sending Shadow off to hunt in the nearby wood.

"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 face still marked with baby fat announced itself to me.

I immediately turned to face my latest follower, Samwell Tarly, Heir of Hornhill. Around a decade younger and probably weighing half as much than his book counterpart when joining the Night's Watch.

"Tell me, Samwell Tarly, are you a stammerer from birth?" I questioned staring at him with my heterochromatic eyes while tying my mismatched hair, having enough of communing with nature.

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

"Then speak clearly." I rose to my full height, towering over the kid my age while subtly activating my Bardic Inspiration through my oratory.

After pausing for a moment to calm himself down a little, Sam finally replied, this time more sure of himself. "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 Sam while we are speaking privately?" I immediately started to establish a bond of friendship between us.

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

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

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

"You are just like your father… straight to the point. I appreciate that." I openly admitted before raising two fingers. "There are two main reasons. First one being because of your name."

"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 be scoffed at." Sam began muttering more to himself, like a medieval version of Izuko Midoriya from MHA.

"Exactly." I broke him out of his ramblings, making him go red in embarrassment. "And the second reason is due to who you are. The individual standing right in front of me."

"Because… of me?" Sam asked, surprised.

"I've heard you are fond of music and songs, preferring books over weapons and soft fabrics over armor." I said while noticing the tome in his book holster being one of the Lord of the Rings copies I've left behind in the Citadel to be sold to the influential houses of Westeros. I then stepped past him and looked forward at the distance, prompting Sam to look at my back. "Also that you are a timid craven, afraid even at the thought of violence." He lowered his head in shame, again.

I understood that just because his father hadn't reached the point of openly stating that he would murder his own son if he didn't joined the Night's Watch, their relationship was already much closer to what Tywin and Tyrion had instead of a healthy father and son relationship.

"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. "As I've convinced your father with the premise that, technically, like me, you will be officially known as ward of the Rock, page to my Grandfather."

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

"But in actuality, I will have you trained to one day assume your father's place as an officer in command of my Royal Legion in the Reach." Approaching the saddle of the black Sand Steed I bought from the first dornish merchant I came across in the marches, 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 also 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's eyes displayed his inner overthinking as the boy held his breath for a brief moment, only to eventually shake his head in agreement. "I am."

Gotta give credit to the craven plump 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 as I've done to Qyburn, even if just to make him more loyal to me.

For now I still had to guide him through the tutorial, like I did with both Tyrion and Satin, both individuals with close to zero experience with combat before I stepped in and managed their training.

Now, back to my journey…

As I've already accounted for the Tyrell's chivalric tradition back when I was visiting their castle, it was apparent that this was also the case throughout the region of the Reach.

Pia and Satin never seemed to grow tired of the chivalrous knights and entertaining tournaments we've been making our way through. Though Satin wasn't as approachable as Pia, acting always so busy as he began showing signs of growing into a "clean freak".

It probably has to do with his early childhood and my recent intervention as Rogue, but safe for the moments he spends admiring the sky, the boy rarely shows emotion, giving a cold impression to others.

Satin's manner of speaking to others than me and my friends tends to be very blunt, even to the point of sounding insulting sometimes, while his comments are often coarse or inappropriate, they are mostly out of his lack of understanding of complex social behavior and interaction.

"I'm glad you finally warmed up to Satin." I told Pia, during another one of our brief stops.

"Yeah, sh- I mean, he isn't that bad." She told me awkwardly after drinking some water, pretending she didn't almost mistake Satin for a girl again. "A little too shy and weird, but thankfully not out of laziness."

"I see." I smiled, noticing how uncomfortable Pia was as she slowly sat closer to me, clearly trying her best to not get caught. Breaking the awkward silence, I called her name. "Pia…"

"Yes!" The young girl immediately turned her head and answered with a nervous smile, probably afraid of having overstepped her boundaries.

"I really appreciate having you around." I finally said in a calming manner, but once I saw her confused expression, I continued while gazing at the horizon. "I remember the day we first met, around a year ago. Besides your rare beauty, what drew my attention to you was your heart."

Noticing how she was still staring at me, I heard her response after a gentle chuckle. "Heh. That's the day I will never forget, of you arriving through the main gate of Harrenhal and later that night sneaking up to explore the castle, because it forever changed my life." Following my gaze at the small tournament nearby, I noticed her wiping a tear off her cheek. "Sometimes I can't even believe that this is all real. That… you… are real."

Wish I could say that this time I was the one confused, even if just a little. But I was well aware of how she grew to idolize me, probably because of all the social buffs my titles as a Bard and connection to the Feywild gave me.

"Some nights, I have nightmares that I will wake up back to my life on Harrenhal, as just an ordinary servant girl without parents. That you never stopped by, or never noticed me." Pia began shaking and I could sense that she was about to break in tears. "That I would no longer hear you sing those wonderful songs and amazing tales. That I won't be needed by you or…"

Suddenly holding her in my arms, I calmed her down. There was no hurry for us to exchange words, just being there for a moment was more than enough, so the two of us remained still for a minute or two.

But as cliché as it would appear to be, we were eventually joined by someone else.

"Shadow, where are y— Forgive me, but am I interrupting something?" Satin suddenly asked from behind us, surprising only Pia since I'd sensed him walking towards us.

As Pia gave out a jump of surprise and immediately stared daggers at the oblivious boy, I was the one to reply without turning to face him. "As a matter of fact, yes. Would you mind giving us some privacy?"

Finally reading the room, Satin almost bowed down. "I-I am so s- Apol…"

Raising my hand and silencing him, I remarked. "There's no need. Just excuse us."

"Y-yes!" He bowed his head and hurried away, missing my Wild Companion, Shadow, who was hiding in a nearby bush and apparently laughing her ass off.

'Girl…' I startled her as I told her through our mental bond. 'We will talk later.'

'Ye-yes, master!' I heard her quick response before noticing Pia's angry grunt.

"Ugh! And just as I was beginning to like he—him." She said feeling our previous moment was ruined.

Gently calming her down once again, I remarked. "Don't take it personally, I'm sure he didn't mean to interrupt. He probably just spoke up so we wouldn't think he was intentionally eavesdropping on any conversation we were having."

"But… we were hugging!" Pia argued, half angered at Satin and half embarrassed at me.

"You know, I'm not supposed to say anything about it. But Satin has had a very harsh upbringing, so certain ignorance in regards to social behavior is still expected of him." I hinted about the boy's past on the Undercity, while still not willing to expose it without his consent.

"What do you mean, Don?" Pia questioned, a little worried by my serious tone.

"It's more of a private matter that only he can decide to share." I shrugged. "But believe me when I say that you should have more patience with him."

Pia looked at Satin, who was standing guard so no one else would interrupt us, from over my shoulder. "I believe you."

"Excellent." I replied before resuming our bonding session. "I think you are ready to learn something from me."

"I am?" She stared at me with hopeful eyes.

"Indeed. As much as I appreciate your aid in cleaning and cooking, I believe you could be extremely helpful with healing."

"I see. Lord Tyrion informed me of your silver chain in medicine." Pia wasn't worried about hiding her excitement in the prospect of becoming more useful to me and also spending additional time together. "So, when do we start?"

Smiling at her enthusiasm, I retrieved one of my parchments and showed her some of my drawings. Curiously, Abjuration and Necromancy magic were very informative about living beings. "We still have some time. Let's begin with basic anatomy."

"Yes!" Pia immediately nodded back, but I could still feel Shadow's gaze on us.

'What's gotten into her?' I thought to myself before making good use of my Tutor perk.

Later, as even some of the smaller towns we passed by also seemed to be hosting small tourneys to bring glory to their lords, with entrance rules that were very stringent. Similar to the tournament made to celebrate my Sixth name day back at the Capital, for only true Knights were allowed to enter the jousts.

Considering how strange it was since in other regions anyone with a lance and a horse was allowed to enter the lists, and manys the mystery knights made a name for themselves in this way. Barristan the Bold, for one, who at the age of ten donned the armor of a mystery knight and entered a tourney at Blackhaven, seat of House Dondarrion in the southwestern stormlands.

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, following the trail of small tourneys, brought me to the one taking place in Ashford.

Ashford's castle was perhaps, on the face of it, not the kind of place one might expect a Royal Prince to linger on this tour out of all the wonderful and unique places in Westeros, for it was considered 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 even for landed Knights like my Swornshield's house, Clegane's Keep. Triangular, so a little reminiscent of Riverrun, with round towers in the Andal style and thick walls. But beyond that, it was nothing special.

The town in here had a rather humble attraction, the houses were uniformly fetched with whitewashed walls, similar to many other small 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, I will let you know in advance.

A hedge knight of unknown provenance got into a dispute with prince Aerion Targaryen, Brightflame, which resulted in the extraordinary spectacle of a trial by seven, with Targaryen princes on both sides. Resulting in Prince Baelor, the Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne at the time, dying and being 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 Ser 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.

Like I've said, a remarkable tale indeed.

The second noteworthy event here was the Battle of Ashford during Robert's rebellion. Right after my father had amassed his army at Storm's End and won his legendary three battles in a day at Summerhall, naturally his next ambition was to head up to Riverrun to meet with the armies of his allies, Ned Stark and Jon Arryn. Robert gave King's Landing a wide berth and before heading north, came here to Ashford.

Only to be confronted by the vanguard of the army of the Reach, the Tarlys who I've interacted with about a couple of weeks ago. As a smaller force somehow managed to push back Robert Baratheon's army, inflicting the only defeat my father suffered during that year-long struggle.

Which perhaps 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 or complicated in case their side ended up losing the war. But to suggest that would be quite a conspiracy theory, I'm sure anyone would agree.

Right…perhaps I'm giving too much credit to Lord Mace Tyrell.

In any case, I've informed my retinue that we will be spending a couple of days here and enjoying our last stop in the Reach. From where I had my camp raised, there was a fine tree standing alone by the river and an open sky that would allow me a great view of the stars.

Perhaps even watch the small tourney taking place nearby or just delve into another Magical Dungeon after speaking a little with Lord Ashford. Though if not for the loot, these Dungeons seemed to be suddenly getting awfully boring. Maybe what I need is some company to make it less dull.

Later in the following day, as the sun had just set in the horizon, I found myself far away from my retinue's camp, holding my breath for a brief moment and loosening the arrow in my hand as the Goldenheart bow, a gif from Jalabhar Xho after witnessing my talent in archery, did all the rest.

Once again drawing the bowstring quickly as my first target had barely just dropped to the ground, dead from an arrow through the eye and into the brain. Its kin took off into the woods, but it didn't make it five steps before the second arrow I released hit it right behind its left shoulder, piercing its heart. My target tried to move a few more steps before its body finally gave out.

In the blink of an eye, I drew my Goldenheart bow one last time and finished a third one that didn't seem to understand what had just happened, putting enough force behind my projectile that it impaled its lifeless body against a nearby tree.

Three boars in mere seconds… meh, I could've done better, but it's not like I required more meat.

"Honestly, your skill with a bow is outstanding, Don. You should be the one training the Tarly boy." Tyrion said from behind me while lowering his own crossbow and 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?"

"To your question about how I knew of their location, I just followed my instincts." I said with a shrug, incredulous to how oblivious one could be to the animal trails spread throughout the woods, before whistling loud enough for my Sand steed to hear and follow. Before we began moving forward through the woods, I added while ignoring the other hogs of the pack running away. "As for why I brought you along…"

"You probably needed more horses to carry these pigs, obviously." Daven joked as he patted Tyrion's shoulder, who seemed to find reason in his logic and accepted it as true. Probably because I didn't disprove it either, instead, I joined in Daven's laughter with a casual chuckle.

Unbeknown to them Sandor watched me with a serious expression before finally sighing and moving on to pick up my prey. Acknowledging my Swornshield's behavior, my eyes subtly darted back to the words above their heads.

{TYRION LANNISTER}

TITLES: SWASHBUCKLER ROGUE, BARD AND MONK.

RACE: ANDAL.

ALLEGIANCE: DURRANDON BARATHEON, ROYAL LEGION, HOUSE LANNISTER.

PWR: 20

END: 20

MOB: 25

INT: 32

STL: 27

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

{DAVEN LANNISTER OF LANNISPORT}

TITLES: CHAMPION FIGHTER, BARBARIAN AND ROGUE.

RACE: ANDAL

ALLEGIANCE: DURRANDON BARATHEON, ROYAL LEGION, HOUSE LANNISTER OF LANNISPORT.

PWR: 28

END: 28

MOB: 30

INT: 29

STL: 24

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

{SANDOR CLEGANE}

TITLES: BATTLEMASTER FIGHTER AND BARBARIAN.

RACE: ANDAL

ALLEGIANCE: DURRANDON BARATHEON

PWR: 40

END: 38

MOB: 29

INT: 20

STL: 15

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

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

Especially Tyrion, who has absorbed everything I taught him that I've learned from both Syrio and Jalabhar. Dual wielding his daggers like the freaking Thorfinn from Vinland Saga and matching even the Tarly archers with his Crossbow was no small accomplishment for the man fighting to not end up known as the imp or halfman. Although, if I wasn't here to witness his personal growth, his Monk title would've made me wonder if he was going to unlock a trait like the Drunken Master or something related.

As for Sandor, his initial Physical stats were already high to begin with, so I was more than satisfied with him following my steps and becoming a Battlemaster fighter. Just like my Father, the Demon of the Trident, the younger Clegane wasn't as strong as the Mountain nor was he as skilled as Barristan Selmy, but it was a balance between those factors that put them in such an impressive category of fighters. Though, unlike the two Lannisters, he was still lacking his third title.

And although Daven hasn't gained the same trait of Battlemaster, even after I made him read countless treaties about the Iron Dance of Westeros, he more than compensated for it by unlocking one completely new named Champion. And both the Barbarian and Rogue title gave him the range to deal with pretty much any kind of combat.

While Tyrion invested his charisma on his title as a Rogue, instead of also becoming a Bard, Daven spent all of his and poured it into his title as a Fighter.

{TRAIT: CHAMPION}

*The archetypal Champion focuses on the development of raw physical power honed to deadly perfection while also inspiring greatness in others by committing brave deeds in battle. Those who model themselves on this archetype combine rigorous training with physical excellence to deal devastating blows. And the mere presence of one in a hamlet is enough to cause some bandits to seek easier prey. For a lone Champion is a mighty warrior, but one leading a band of allies can transform even the most poorly equipped militia into a ferocious war band. Rather prefering to lead through deeds, not only words, whenever a Champion spearheads an attack, their actions can awaken reserves of courage and conviction in allies that they never suspected they had.

It certainly fits his own style as a Fighter and probably will be a better match for the son of the Lord of Lannisport, especially since he keeps constantly speaking about how much he planned to improve his family's home, starting with the city's guard.

As for the features he got for it…

{FEATURE: ROYAL ENVOY}

*You can Intimidate and Persuade others much more easily, while also resistant to both Frightening and Charming effects.

Appropriate for someone who needed all the help once his battles became less frequent on the battlefield and more frequent in the Game of Thrones.

{FEATURE: RALLY CRY}

*Once in between your short rests, you can bolster the resolve of all of your companions that can see or hear you. Those friendly creatures' health bar regenerates faster and gains temporary health points equal to twice your title's level.

Kinda like my Twilight sanctuary, if not a little weaker in terms of boosting others HP, but certainly more suited to be used in open battle.

{FEATURE: INSPIRING SURGE}

*Once in between your short rests, you can inspire an adrenaline rush on all of your companions that can see or hear you. Those friendly creatures' Mobility stat increases by half and their Stamina bar regenerates faster.

Now that's what made me desperately want this trait for me as well, for it seems to naturally stack with the Mobility bonus it gave to other Fighters while they were under the effects of their own Action Surge. Which made me wonder if my Barbarian title might also have something like it for the other physical stats.

Suffice to say that they were absolutely the kind of people I wanted to keep by my side and fight alongside, as well as the type I could trust to accomplish almost any task I gave them.

Noticing that I've been silent for too long, I ended my line of thought and turned to face my companions.

"In all seriousness, I did ask for you to come for another reason." I said, getting serious as Sandor finished tying the boars' corpses and carried one of them towards his large warhorse, comically named Stranger, in order to place the dead hog over its saddle.

My sand steed came trotting up, with Daven and Tyrion's horses in tow at the same time. They reached down and lifted the dead pig up and onto the back of their horses.

You see, my mount, which I ended up naming Night because of her black color, could still make do with the extra weight, but her true specialty lay in being capable of outrunning any other land animal for far longer periods of time.

The Dornishmen loved to claim that this breed is able to 'run for a day and night and another day, and never tire'. Besides, she was still just a young mare, the years could still make her grow more fit for the labor.

"I've brought you to speak about something very important." I finally said, once we reached a faraway spot from our camp, before displaying my magic for them to see with the help of my magical wand, prompting the three men to stare incredulously at what I was displaying for them.

Sprouting from the endpoint of my Artificer creation, I casted several Minor Illusions of what appeared to be hovering, small and shining, Seven-pointed stars.

Casting Thaumaturgy I magnified my voice by up to five times while changing it to sound more like a choir of angelic voices, 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 to you three." 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 have taken the forward approach 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 displayed to him back when we first met.

No.

For my closest companions, who would carry my banner and lead my Legion into war, 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 unharmed and with three living dragons, I had to remove the cynicism out of them.

But since 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 of frightening to the point of forcing him to break his vows as my sword shield and walk away, I've kept subtly enforcing the aspects of the Faith of the Seven.

Spending the Mana I had stored inside my Magical Wand, I casted one of my second level spells without hesitation.

'Starbeam!'

My strongest Evocation spell up to this point, was a silvery beam of radiant bright light shone from the starry night sky centered down on me, engulfing in a 3-meter-radius all the forest within its light in ghostly flames.

Even if my resistance to Radiant damage wasn't anything to boast about, thanks to my aptitude with Evocation magic, I had no trouble creating a pocket of absolute safety inside the beam of pure light.

Taking the opportunity, I walked forward and exited the beam of bright light while in my Starry Form, bearing the constellation of the dragon while floating thanks to my tempestuous magic, casting down my shadow over my shocked companions.

Subtly casting my Minor Illusion to have the music 'Light of the Seven' play in the background, I stacked on top of it my Balm of Peace, augmenting my presence with divine power.

Not satisfied with it, I brought forth one of my latest discoveries in studying Enchantment magic.

{ZONE OF TRUTH Lv- 1(0%)}

[SECOND CLASS ENCHANTMENT SPELL: You create a magical zone that guards against deception in a 5-meter-radius sphere centered on a point of your choice within range. Until the spell ends, a creature that enters the spell's area or starts inside it can't speak a deliberate lie while in the radius. You are immediately informed whenever a creature manages to resist this spell's magical effect. An affected creature is aware of something magical compelling honesty from it and could avoid answering questions to which it would normally respond with a lie. Such a creature can be evasive in its answers as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth.]

CASTING TIME: INSTANTANEOUS

RANGE: 20 METERS

COMPONENTS: V AND S

DURATION: 10 MINUTES.

I knew Daven was fairly religious, not to the level of utmost piety up to this point, but still enough to make him seriously acknowledge the godly imagery I've built for me. And although Sandor was even less pious, even he couldn't deny the messianic miracle before him.

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 eventually reached the point of seeking to destroy Westeros and murder both of his siblings.

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 just to strengthen our bond.

Not only that, but from what I've heard, I even got Tywin Lannister to actually compliment his progress. Nothing outstanding, since neither would ever 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.

"N-n-nephew… What is this power… is this really magic?! And what is this…cause you speak of?" Tyrion was the first to speak up, probably as a defensive mechanism he had for himself, with both Daven and Sandor still having their jaws dropped in utter shock.

"I've been blessed by the light of the Seven." I replied with my voice still carrying great magical power behind it, and as I dismissed my Starbeam, my identities of Knight, Bard, Monk and Rogue were left standing behind me. Their expression was a testament to the importance of my words. "I've been burdened with a glorious purpose."

To Sandor's credit he was the second one to recover once he saw Knight, the man he considered as his rival. "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 so as not to provoke the other self proclaimed gods, but as other supernatural threats rise again, they finally decide to select a champion. One born with the magic blood of the Dragons and the immortal soul of the Storm Kings."

All four of my false identities bowed behind me, declaring their full support to my words while I ceremoniously shot upward my Guiding Bolt, out of my Holy Symbol, similar to how Green Lanterns so oftenly did.

"You, my prince?" Daven finally recovered from his shock, as the earth tremor gave way to another 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 everything he was witnessing.

"Indeed." I raised my starry 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 Lands 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 at that moment was what allowed the Targeryens to conquer an entire continent. Followed by the imagery of all the people crucified by Daenerys. "Dragons will hatch from their once believed dead eggs, serving a Targeryen Queen that lays waste to armies on Essos as she seeks to find her way back to Westeros." Suddenly every unnatural phenomenon halted and silence dawned between all of 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 to me and I will continue to extend my blessings over you." I told them, signaling for my fake identities to stand by my side.

"Continue?" Tyrion questioned, watching the serious face from even the usually always so easygoing Bard.

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

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

"And in time, with more diligent training and proper experience, you will all become legendary skilled individuals in whichever path you take." I concluded, still impressed by how smoothly I was managing to explain things to them. "Now, I grant you the opportunity of swearing your lives and help me not only to save the world as we know from the chaos that is on its way, but also make it evolve into something so much better. 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, the friendship and respect between us will remain as it is but I will have to take back my blessing."

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 about that, nor they needed to. And I still wanted to hear from them while under the effects of my Zone of Truth.

I couldn't just change their nature and bend their will, yet, but I was certainly capable of being unbelievably eloquent. And 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, Blood of Old Valyria and the Gods of Wind and Sea, Blessed by the Seven, Future emperor of the Andals, First Men, Rhoynar and all of Planetos."

While omitting for now the truce with the Old Gods, I watched through my Observe skill as their allegiance changed to have my name as a priority.

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

The Hound furrowed his eyebrow in confusion, but remained silent as I chanted before him, mimicking the act of knighting someone that my father did on me while disguised as Knight.

"The Path of Vengeance is a solemn commitment to punish those who have committed a grievous sin."

Sandor's 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 wild beast 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 while suppressing a grin.

"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 long sword in the ground before him.

I placed my hand over his shoulder and watched as his Stats finally displayed a magical capacity through the use of his Divine Points.

It wasn't anywhere near as large or as versatile 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 features as I did, like Divine Sense and Lay on Hands.

But that's a bridge we will cross later, he was still a low level Paladin.

'Hmmm…' Thinking more about it, I pushed my luck with the Stranger and also made Sandor a Cleric, granting him the Twilight domain. "Remember that the twilit transition from light into darkness often brings calm and even joy, as the day's labors end and the hours of rest begin. The darkness can also bring terrors, but you will be responsible to guard against

those horrors of the night and bring comfort to those who seek rest, protecting them by venturing into the encroaching darkness to ensure that the dark is a comfort, not a terror."

My Swornshield remained silent, accepting his role as my Dark Knight while showing no signs of objection to my words and thus unlocking the ability to bring forth the same twilight sanctuary that I had.

"Rise my Avenger, guardian of the night." I said before turning my gaze towards Tyrion and Daven, noticing 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…Don?" Tyrion joined, still not comfortable in speaking casually with me while in my Starry Form.

"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 assure you, we will be ready."

I allowed the silence to dwell between us for a brief moment, expecting that out of anyone in the continent, these three Westerlanders would know to take the threat of the Ironborn seriously.

While they were busy with their own thoughts, I kept hoping that anyone in the distance that wasn't distracted and saw my Starbeam and Guiding Bolt would just assume they were merely shooting stars. Oh, and that the Stranger would understand my reasoning for naming Sandor as his Paladin and Cleric.

Before I could follow up my comment about war with any announcement, I was struck by another one of my portent visions.

…..it was…. me? Although I couldn't make much of my appearance, I could definitely see that I was much taller than the average man. Looking beyond that, I noticed that I was being shielded on both sides by what appeared to be the definition of Holy Knights!… Two angelic Paladins that sprouted feathered wings while emanating a powerful aura. The one standing on my right was also blurred out to me, though it was clear that the figure clearly embodied the theme of a white knight… and the one on my left… a dark knight, wearing a masterfully crafted helm that alluded to the image of a snarling hound… Sandor?!…

As the vision ended and I found myself back to the present, immediately noticing that my companions were getting a little uneased by my prolonged silence.

'Wow, that must've been the farthest away that I've glimpsed into the future!' I thought to myself, really satisfied with the implications of what I just witnessed, before dismissing it and finally announcing. "It's time for your initiation."

And so, I led them back to our camp while recalling every vivid detail of my foretelling in silence.

Red Keep, Riverland, Casterly Rock and Highgarden. I've unlocked four out of the nine Great Houses's Magical Dungeons. Before Ashford, I've managed to clear nine, and if not for my current company it would've been very inconsequential to me.

The undeads that were spawned here weren't of a particularly high level, nor were the traps that vicious. With the only significant difference being that the higher demographic of the Reach reflected in similar fashion with the hordes of undead found in each magical dungeon.

Though to the detriment of their quality, which was a perfect tutorial for my three champions.

"So this is how you've always had something up your sleeve." Tyrion grinned finally understanding as he got used to 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 in my mind while inspecting the Royal Legions equipment and provisions." Daven remarked, relieved. "Won't we all be missed by the troops if we stay away for too long?"

"Since I gave them a rest from marching throughout the Reach, staying until the end of the tournament Lord Ashford is hosting will certainly be a welcome change of pace for them. I've also had Satin and Pia being hosted safely at the castle and keeping an eye on Sam." I informed them before sweetening the deal with a half truth. "Besides, I also have all those foreigners from Far Far Away keeping watch of everything."

"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, I 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 with your crossbow."

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 twinned my Mage Armor spell so as to cover us all.

They soon noticed how the cloak of shining runes was capable of deflecting a barrage of projectiles, the archer monsters shot at them, without even scratching their armors.

"I'll play the role of support…" I said, quickly touching the swords in Sandor and Daven's hands and coating them with radiant energy. "…and utility."

"You enchanted my sword?" Sandor muttered to himself, still unable to ignore my magical stunts. "I mean, of course you did."

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

Tyrion furrowed his eyebrows for a brief moment before replying. "I think so. But we left our mounts behind, where will you find a…"

Interrupting him mid sentence, I summoned my Wild Companion, Shadow, in her magical form while disguising it as a Shadow cat.

"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, pushing it against the nearby wall before decapitating it.

"A Shadow cat?" Tyrion muttered.

"If it's a problem for you, next time you should try to bring your lionnes from Casterly Rock." I recommend it to him.

"Heh. Perhaps one day…" Tyrion merely snicker and mounted my Familiar, her intelligence allowed him to shoot without having to worry about riding his mount around.

What came next was the thrill and entertainment I've been longing for in quite a while now. Without having to constantly dish out spells or rely too much on my Valyrian Steel weapons, the combat between my party and the horde of undeads was actually challenging.

Though my Emboldening Bond feature as a Peace Cleric made sure that we weren't taking any unnecessary risk.

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

"May your cunt creator have mercy on you, for I will not!" Sandor shouted and his class feature immediately took effect. He didn't wait for my command to begin hacking and slashing at the toughest undead after it was debuffed.

Two spear wielding zombies rushed forward and aimed to skewer the Hound, probably forgetting how strong my Abjuration magic was.

Daven parried one thrust with his shield before leveraging it to provoke an opening by lowering the spear and instantly decapitating the same foe. Meanwhile, the other spear-wielding undead dropped its weapon and fell down, displaying one of its eye sockets with a crossbow bolt embedded in it.

"Nice work." I complemented the three as Sandor finally grappled the big one, once it lost its steel helmet he finally headbutted it, smashing the undead's head into a pulpy mess.

Tyrion suddenly chuckled as Shadow halted its movement right behind me. "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 be leading them with their ice magic."

"I'll take my chances with them, instead of those fire breathing fuckers." Sandor argued before throwing the lifeless body of the big undead he had just thrashed.

"Exhaling." Daven corrected the Hound's previous statement about dragons.

"What?" Sandor questioned after instantly removing his helmet and wiping the sweat out of his forehead.

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

"Oh, perhaps they actually just 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 tomorrow." I interrupted their discussion about dragons and mythical creatures.

"Understood." The three of them replied together.

I wasn't expecting them to grow used to 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, even though I wasn't expecting it, the three companions were basically steamrolling everything in their path. A pity this pocket dimension didn't have anything special like a Undead Mage, Undead Shadows, Fiendish Hags or even the Blights I fought both in Highgarden and in the Arbor.

By the point the sun was about to rise outside, my party had all but cleared the Magical Dungeon under Ashford, leaving only the last wave for them to face without my help or intervention.

Remembering to feed my Mimic pet from time to time and to finally have a talk with my Wild Companion, I still had the time to stroll around the dungeon without worry or care.

Even the baby slime I got after facing several Athcoids was finally showing signs of being open for domestication once I fed it frequently enough. Unlike Gobble, my mimic pet, the little slime didn't seem to mind digesting bits of undead flesh or plants, but neither were into inorganic material such as rocks and metals.

In case things inexplicably went south, I still had my Spare the Dying as a backup plan. Thankfully, that ended up not being the case.

Leading them past the Treasure Room after I placed my Arcane Lock there, I left the spoils in gold for them to make use in whichever way they saw fit.

"I must say, finding a treasure chest 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 we 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 that I'm sure my father will appreciate."

"Great… Can we go now? I'm hungry." Sandor shrugged, not much interest in using the money for anything other than food, and perhaps improving his equipment.

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

I should've known that my Chef perk was bound to be more useful as I increased the number of my close associates.

"Eh… Nephew… I mean, Don!" Tyrion approached right after I handed some meals to both Daven and Sandor. "Would you mind telling me more about this… magic of yours?"

I could see from his posture that it was something he had been postponing to ask me.

"Not at all, Uncle." I smiled back, storing away my magical wand and retrieving a few of my Magical Scrolls. "I've been meaning to have that conversation with someone other than Monk."

"Monk?" Tyrion asked while furrowing his eyebrows before finally understanding. "Oh, who would've guessed that the man with Valyrian traits was after all a Hedge Wizard."

"I wouldn't call him that." I shrugged humorously while handing him some of the less dangerous magic scrolls. "Especially to his face."

"Heh. I will make sure to keep that in mind." Tyrion remarked while unrolling the first scroll. "Am I supposed to make heads or tails of any of this?"

"Eventually…it's easier than to have you dedicate all of your spare time trying to memorize all the theorical and practical aspects of magic." I told him, preparing to activate the magic in parchment, wasting a few hours of work in preparing a spell I could already cast without spending Mana. "Disguise Self."

As the myriad of arcane writings gave out a magical flash, leading to everything that I've scribed with my Wizardry quill to disappear and the spell took effect.

As Tyrion stepped back, shocked once again by my display of magic, his image was immediately changed to look as if he was a man around 6 feet tall.

No longer appearing to be a dwarf with stunted legs, stubby fingers and a jutting forehead. His mismatched eyes of green and black, were now both Lannister-like emeralds and his thin mismatched hair gave space to one curled with the color of beaten gold.

Regardless of such stark transformation, due to his facial features, anyone that knew him well could recognize Tyrion even in this.

"Y-yo-you've turned me… into my brother Jaime?" Tyrion asked, staring down at his arms and legs before moving to inspect his face.

"Nonsense, uncle." I told him, drawing the attention of both Daven and Sandor, who stopped stuffing their faces and gobbling down the roasted chicken I gave them. "You are still you. Just a little… taller."

"Wow! Lord Tyrion, you are taller than me now." Daven remarked, really impressed by what he was seeing.

"But how's that possible?" Clegane asked, still towering over my uncle.

"Technically, it's just an illusion. Although you can interact with the world around you as if you were of that shape and size, this form of yours isn't fit, much less durable enough for combat." I warned him, explaining the basics of what I've managed to accomplish through leveling up this skill. "I would say that you can go back and forth on that appearance for an entire day before the spell's effect wears off." I changed him back to his regular dwarf size and noticed his disappointment. "But since I was the one to activate the scroll, that decision falls over to me."

Allowing my uncle to enjoy the feeling of being tall once again, I turned to face Sandor while retrieving another magic scroll from my Inventory. "While Tyrion's case can't be changed for much longer than a day on each casting of my magic, I believe yours can be permanently dealt with."

Sandor raised an eyebrow at my remark, taking a few seconds to understand what I was implying. Visibly staggering once he got the idea of what I was referring to he finally spoke while placing a hand over the burned half of his face he so frequently hid with his long dark hair. "You mean, you can get rid of it? Make me handsome or something?"

"I'm not one to say if you would be handsome or not." I casually stated, not expecting this vain side of my tsundere hound. "But I can probably help you with the burning scars."

"If that's the case, how much will it cost?" Sandor replied, immediately moving to retrieve the loot he just got from the Dungeon before I stopped him.

"Nothing at all. Consider this a gift from a friend." I told him, hammering down the prospect of us being more than professional associates.

"I-I… I don't know what to say… Don." Sandor said before kneeling once again before me.

{RESTORATION Lv- 10 (23%)}

[SECOND CLASS ABJURATION SPELL: You touch a creature to instantly heal 50 Health points and recover it from exhaustion. Any scars this spell is focused on will be healed to the point of not appearing anymore. On top of that, you can also cure one disease, neutralize one poison or end one condition afflicting it. That condition can be either Blinded, Deafened, Muted or Paralyzed.]

CASTING TIME: INSTANTANEOUS

RANGE: TOUCH

COMPONENTS: V AND S

DURATION: INSTANTANEOUS.

As I activated my Second class magical scroll on him, I realized once again how much easier it was for me and Page to level up spells around this class thanks to the intermediate arcane knowledge I got from the Dungeon under the Citadel.

Soon enough, the other side of Sandor's face, the one that was a burned ruin of scars, began to heal as my Swornshield was covered in a bright magical aura.

No longer he had slick black flesh, pocked with craters and deep cracks that oozed red and wet, his ear wasn't only a hole now, with a stump quickly growing into a regular ear, and the hint of bone showed on his jaw was completely covered by all the layers of facial muscles and skin.

The scars that extended down to his throat also faded out. And so did the twisted mass of scars around his eye, which was still good, not harmed by the fire, and the lips on that side of face showed themselves once again.

For all intents and purposes, Sandor Clegane was a new man. Not exactly the impossibly good looking man that Jaime Lannister was known to be, but still very much what most maidens dreamed of.

"Oh my…" I said, staring at my tall and dark Avenger while retrieving a small mirror from my Inventory.

Clegane quickly picked it up and couldn't fathom what he was witnessing. Even running his fingers down his cheek wasn't enough to make him believe it wasn't all a dream.

"I-I… I am normal." He finally muttered to himself, before bowing down once again, immediately correcting his previous slip up on his normal behavior. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, my friend." I told him while signaling for him to stand with a pat on his back. "I just ask for a little bit of discretion from you. As I'm sure you can understand, the world we live in ain't accustomed to the prospect of magic being used to do good."

"Aye. Makes sense, I guess." Sandor nodded, immediately equipping his infamous helm that displayed the vivid image of a snarling Hound. But unbeknown to everyone, I could tell that my Swornshield was grinning like never before.

Let's see, Tyrion was having a taste of one of his most desperate dreams and Sandor took the first step to lose his fear of fire.

"I would be careful with those weapons if I were you three. Their magical power will take quite some time before running out. Especially if you keep them stored in your Inventories." Before Daven could even think about asking me anything, I reminded them.

The heir of Lannisport immediately understood that what he had in hand was the closest he had come of wielding a Valyrian steel weapon, and from his expression it was a glorious feeling.

Just wait until I craft you some Armor infused with magic.

"Oh! Here, store these flasks for any emergency! Red is for healing wounds like bleeding and broken bones, Green is for boosting your speed and Yellow is for fortifying your bodies for a brief moment." Handing them a handful of the elixirs that I've brewed up to this point, I informed them while wondering how long it would take for me to crack the code of putting spells into my elixirs.

Although the process of brewing potions was a little different in terms of production cost when compared to scribing scrolls, it came with the benefit of being effective regardless of the consumer's knowledge about magic, though with the detriment of perishing like most consumables usually did.

————————————————————————

After a couple of weeks of nonstop travel to cross into the region of the Riverlands without having to go closer to King's Landing, since I knew I would be forced to wait until my father throwed another tournament to celebrate my next name day, finally in the distance I could see the two castles of The Twins.

One on each side of the river, and the stone bridge that passed between them displaying the pride of the Freys. This was the only crossing for hundreds of miles in the kingdom of the Riverlands. If we were traveling to the North, passing close to Riverrun just like we just did, 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 passing by the capital. Even coming down from the North was no better, as Robb Stark had learned during his war against the Iron Throne.

And make no mistake, the Freys knew about this, and the toll they charged was high due to it.

For peasants and traders, I doubt they 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.

For that reason, the history of The Twins was really the history of one family, House Frey. By Westeros standards they were actually quite a young house, but still twice as old as the Baratheons were. Around 600 years ago they were granted this land for reasons that appear to be lost to history, but it is known that the first Lord Frey set his mind immediately into 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. Because of that, 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, comparable even to the Brackens and Blackwoods whom we paid a brief stop on our way here. But they were not loved, or even respected, by most noble families or the small folk. Instead, they were viewed as upstarts and money grabbers.

And as my retinue and I approached, I was reminded that I too was expected to pay the toll to make use of their bridge. For soon enough some Frey outriders met us, expecting to know our business, until one of them recognized me and my banner.

{OTHO, FREY KNIGHT.}

LV: 21

RACE: ANDAL

PWR: 22

END: 23

MOB: 24

INT: 15

STL: 13

DEF: 20* (Castle-forged steel rivited mail armor: Piercing/Slashing +50% Damage Resistance/ Bludgeoning +25% Damage Resistance)

"M-my prince, Lord Frey wasn't expecting your visit?" One of the Frey soldiers announced, before he and two other soldiers immediately dismounted their horses and 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 or even set camp on his lands."

"I-I… my prince…" The Knight of house Frey was at a loss for words as his embarrassment and fear under the stare of my group of men.

"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 immediately nodded and quickly mounted back his horse, leading us and the other Frey outriders.

On our way, another party joined us. It was Ser Cleos Frey, son of Genna, followed by the strong Ser Hosteen Frey and the agile Ser Walder Rivers.

That prompted me to recall having sent my personal raven a week ago summoning them in order to settle this matter with Lord Walder Frey once and for all. The bird was a White Raven I came to call Light, mostly due to how she and Shadow weren't that friendly to one another.

White ravens were a species of bird rarer than black ravens, not regarded as albino, but a separate species altogether. This is known because they were larger and more intelligent than their black counterparts, said to grow bigger than hawks. And just like black ravens, white ravens could croak words in the common tongue.

But the best thing with Light was that she could also speak a little of True Tongue.

Usually all were reared at the Citadel in Oldtown. But as the Crown Prince I got away with a small favor with the maesters. Which sounds more complicated than it was, but even with their newfound high demand once the seasons became shorter. For White ravens of the Citadel did not carry messages, as their dark cousins did. When they went forth from Oldtown, it was for one purpose only: to herald a change of seasons.

Back to my present.

The three Frey Knights of before were leading a group of Legionnaires, with Hoster Tully, the Blackfish, acting as their officer in command and Bronn as the second in command.

"It's good to see you all." I greeted them while riding Night, my Sand Steed. "Especially in one piece."

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

"Although it wasn't for a lack of danger in the past few months." The Bastard of Walder Frey remarked with his usual cocky attitude.

"Nothing we couldn't handle, of course." 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 Legionnaires 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 has been quite the incentive."

"The payment doesn't cover for all the work and trouble I've been having to deal with." Bronn casually argued. "But I would be a fucking liar if I said that I could find anything better. Some of these fuckers 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. "Besides your work here in the Riverlands and my Granduncles's, Tygett and Gerion, management of the Westerlands, I've just recently 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 and a recruiting post set on Horn Hill."

"So that's why you've summoned us here, my prince." Cleos finally realized, surprising me by his quick thinking. "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 a thing?" The Blackfish questioned, drawing a small reaction from the three Freys, who unbeknown to me grew a bond of respect. "I meant no disrespect, of course."

As the Freys seemed more familiarized with Blackfish's manners and made no mention of it, I answered Brynden's question. "Well, I've been avoiding delving my Legion into unnecessary political drama. Lannisport instead of Casterly Rock and Hornhill instead of Highgarden were clear signs of it. So it not only stands to reason that Riverrun would not be what I'm looking for, besides, 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 assumed you would prefer to not have to constantly deal with your brother on a daily basis, which would be bound to happen with a garrison of recruitment so close to your family's castle." I persuaded him.

"Ah, I can see it now. Heh." Brynden Tully chuckled awkwardly. "Good call, my prince. Sorry to have doubted you."

I nodded and ended our brief conversation, for the approach to The Twins was relatively pleasant, passing through apple orchards and a cornfield. From what I managed to observe, 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 defensible, probably due to access to the bridge being 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.

And 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 found most interesting about it was that my Mental Map and Detect Magic cantrip informed me that the entrance to the Magical Dungeon of this castle was located somewhere in here.

While traversing the bridge I retrieved a forked twig from my inventory and subtly casted my highest Divination magic up to this point.

[-10 MP]

{DOWSING Lv- 5(78%)}

[SECOND CLASS DIVINATION SPELL: Picture an object that is familiar to you. You sense the direction to the object's location, as long as that object is within 300 meters of you. If the object is in motion, you know the direction of its movement. The spell can locate a specific object known to you, as long as you have seen it up close - within 10 meters - at least

once. Alternatively, the spell can locate the nearest object of a particular kind, such as a certain kind of apparel, jewelry, furniture, tool, or weapon.]

CASTING TIME: INSTANTANEOUS

RANGE: SELF

COMPONENTS: V, S AND M (a forked twig)

DURATION: CONCENTRATION, UP TO 10 MINUTES.

Thinking about anything I could find of interest in here I located several things stacked together. 'Well, wouldn't you know, the Freys indeed have a vault filled with gold, silver and jewelry here in this uncommon castle. The lack of Valyrian steel in the vicinity was more than expected though.'

A shame I was running on such a tight schedule with my seventh nameday almost here and the prospect of the next winter threatening to end any window of time I had to visit the Iron Islands in order to make any allies.

Having said that, should anyone get this far on the Frey's bridge, they would be welcomed by another 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, with even those who were welcome here were expected to pay for the privilege.

And 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.

Since 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 was shaped like The Twins themselves, two towers carved at either end beside an arching bridge. With the hall it was located in being two stories high, with a gallery high above the guests, built for musicians no doubt.

Or onlookers, sometimes even armed with crossbows as most would've learned during the infamous Red Wedding event.

"Why have you come… my prince?" Suddenly asked Lord Walder Frey as soon as I found myself standing before him, not openly insulting the Crown Prince, but neither bowing down in respect like some of his soldiers were doing.

Although my Royal Legion still had plenty of room to grow, it was nice to have our reputation linked together.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Lord Frey." I answered him with the courtesy he neither deserved nor offered to me. "And I'm quite grateful for your hospitality in having us in your impressive fortress." I smiled at some of his daughters that were in attendance, gaining some chuckles and blushes in return.

'Most of them weren't that ugly.' I mentally remarked. 'A little too arrogant looking, but nothing I haven't witnessed while visiting other noble families.'

"Indeed…" Walder got comfortable in his chair and enjoyed the sweet words I was telling him, not noticing my charismatic influence already starting to take effect on 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. "Though to be fair, I've heard that my main concern should be to not die young as a result."

"Wise advice, I would say." Walder grinned, probably having thought about it himself. "But I do see some similarities between us. Of course, not counting your abnormal hair and eyes… and height. Aren't you supposed to still be far from your tenth name day? Gods, you really 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 a stark contrast to each other. I was a very healthy six, soon 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 modern 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 next.

I certainly supported his second son, Emmon Frey, since he has married Genna Lannister and was father to Cleos Frey. But that still left me to find a way of getting rid of his firstborn, Stevron, and his immediate 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 all before they could make things worse.

"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 discussions about me."

Walder Frey raised an eyebrow at my antics.

"You see, I've come to propose a deal to you, Lord Frey." I finally revealed. " The Royal Legion would like to establish a recruitment post here in your castle."

"Recruitment post? Here?! And what do I have to gain from this… deal?" Walder Frey dared to ask unceremoniously.

"Other than the immediate protection from the veteran Legionaries stationed here? I'll be sure to have your house provided with the necessary supplies to endure the winters and the adequate agricultural 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 in the entire world.

"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 Legionnaires. Besides, since it's my Legionnaires' responsibility to keep the peace and order of the Riverlands, I'm confident that merchants of other regions even outside of Westeros will be much more confident to venture inland and probably be more frequently inclined to pay the toll to cross your bridge, in order to have access to the rest of the continent."

That's it.

This deal was much better than anything he could have hoped for. The only thing that remained was for him to accept it. But in the case he was dumb enough to decline, I could just 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 a perfect garrison 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, his age has only served to increase it. 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. Walter Frey also viewed himself as another Tywin Lannister, but it seems that I've outplayed him as well.

Never understood why this old fart 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 are as good as mine. But I won't have the time to explore it further than I already had during my arrival, since this was not somewhere I wished to stay longer than I must, so I informed my retinue that we will keep traveling.

Our next stop would be somewhere just as strategically positioned, in my opinion. Seagard, seat of house Mallister.

—————————————————————

On my way out of the Twins after sharing some pleasantries with the Freys I still had some interest in, I took the opportunity to officially station Bryden Tully and Bronn there to aid Cleos and the other Freys dedicated to serving my Royal Legion from the Water Tower.

At the same time, finding it the perfect opportunity to sneakily add Cleos Frey into my Party of Companions, since henceforth, whatever progress he made will positively impact my Legions morale here in the Riverlands and improve his chances of gaining support to his father as the next Lord of the Twins.

I also asked Genna's son to seek to gain the support of both House Bracken and Blackwood, since their feud was put to a momentary hold due to the Weirwood tree from Raventree Hall being mysteriously restored to full health.

Meanwhile I left the Twins set on persuading Lord Mallister to help nourish my Legionnaires and Marines' foothold on the Riverlands, helping fund the efforts to renovate the Water Tower to match the other two twin towers.

Having said that, I kept in mind that we would do well to not openly defy the Tully's authority over their Kingdom yet, which meant their role as keepers of peace and order was paramount in maintaining the appearances.

At least until my Royal Legion was allowed to gain sufficient accomplishments in the approaching war with the Ironborn. After that, I could have Hoster Tully himself actively trying to undermine my influence in his Kingdom that it would only serve to show to the smallfolk how petty the Tullys really were.

With time, it was inevitable that people would start to notice how influential my Royal Legion was really becoming. Luckily for now, most lords still believed that their countrymen would remain loyal to them in the case a civil war ever came to pass.

However, as the years will come by with my Legionnaires helping to feed and protect the people from harsh winters and invading armies, such notions of patriotism should be shifted to the sentiment of embracing the realm as a whole.

In any case, instead of treating my seventh name day as a minor inconvenience to my plans, I had decided to make it into an opportunity. While also not forgetting that I was on a tight schedule in regards to reaching and influencing some people on the Iron Islands before winter came and the window of opportunity was lost forever, as I'm sure Balon Greyjoy must be really impatient to declare their independence this late in comparison to the canonical timeline.

So I allowed myself to spend a few days throwing a big party and publicly celebrating my birthday on my next stop at Seagard. For that purpose I've sent Light, my white raven, beforehand to Gerion, who has separated from my group since we made our way further inland from the Arbor, requesting that he brought along everything a royal festivity would require on his ship, the 'Laughing Lion', and others of my Legion's marine fleet.

Not forgetting Gerion's brothers and sister, or Daven's family, since they were all too important for me not to invite them to celebrate my birthday. Especially Tywin, who for all effects and purposes was supposedly shaping me to become like him, but only the two of us knew he was in no position to tell me what to do or not.

The people were hungry for more than just food, they craved distraction, so I opted for killing two birds with one stone. Fortunately, being the son of Robert Baratheon came with the peculiar perk of people never batting an eye if I ever requested that an extravagant tourney and a festival be organized in my name.

Lord Jason Mallister certainly wouldn't mind since I revealed that I would afford all the major expenses with my own money, with the added incentive that the influx of people would help his house fill their coffers a little before the next winter. Sadly, in terms of excitement it wouldn't compare with my sixth name day at King's Landing, where I won both the archery and melee contest while also getting intimate with a Dornish Princess.

The closest thing I had was exchanging some words with Daven's sisters, Ceranna and Marielle, who became a little too insistent on spending time with me.

And perhaps a little bit with Genna Lannister, who with all due respect to both Tywin and Cleos was growing into a fine Gilf. Even if you could describe her as a little chubby, honestly that just increased her appeal for now.

But I digress…

Speaking of Arianne Nymeros Martell, I wonder how she was doing. Laying with as many men and women as she could? Most likely. Already beginning to suspect her father planned to deny her birthright? Not a clue. Perhaps she's still surprised that I was actually capable of performing real magic.

Regardless…

Our paths were bound to cross again in the future, for everyone knew that a Dornish rebellion was always a looming threat just waiting to happen. And that was common knowledge even back when the Targaryens were in charge and still riding their Dragons.

Rhaenys' survival back at the end of my father's rebellion might've bought us some time though.

Opportunely, Tyrion and Gerion were very creative with ways of enticing the masses, while the remaining Lannisters knew exactly how to make a profit from it, so I wasn't all that bothered with those types of matters like spreading the word or hiring people.

I was really considering having my alias as Ser Knight step in and bring more credit to all the rumors I've been building for myself, like being half-giant or blessed by the Warrior himself, but ultimately decided against it in order to favor my close companions and display them as fine examples of what my Royal Legion was growing into.

Though I couldn't resist making another appearance as Bard and doing another one of my performances in the festival's feast. And something told me that I needed to make a private reunion as Rogue so to ease Satin's expectations upon him.

As for the tourney in itself…

Tyrion, who I've tasked to keep training both Satin and Samwell's aim and exercising their fitness in my absence, competed in the archery contest and won using the special made crossbow I made for him. A pity there wasn't anything like an acrobatic or riding dispute added to the marksmanship trial, since having him almost bullseye all of the targets wasn't giving him the proper challenge he needed.

To his credit, the small Lannister certainly felt more comfortable amongst actual fighters now, probably due to him knowing that he could actually take most of them in a duel, if not more by fighting dirty. I just knew uncle Jaime would definitely have a hard time believing the rumors beginning to spread after his little brother's victory.

Even the mighty Tywin Lannister had to admit it was a better image for his house to spread that even their 'lowliest' member was still visibly better than the common rabble. That and his stupid look of surprise when he finally realized Tyrion wasn't a stunted fool.

And since Daven wasn't a knight yet, I've allowed him to compete in the melee dispute and display for all to see the skill and charisma of my first Champion Fighter. He certainly had a certain inspiring presence in the way he fought, surpassing any other fighter that dared face him. His skill with the sword and shield were also very impressive, in particular how he easily managed to bash helmets off and disarm his opponents with his shield while landing critical strikes and precise parryings with his arming sword.

I managed to hear his sisters and parents cheering for him and constantly shouting words of encouragement, as any doting family ought to.

The heir of Lannisport, now more popularly known as the Sealion of Lannisport, was definitely earning glory and fame to his name, which made him even more useful to me, since many influential houses would be interested in settling a marriage with a great catch like him. As soon as I had him anointed as a Knight that fought in an actual war, I will have Kevan's firstborn, Lancel, become his page and eventually squire, instead of humiliating the poor lad with serving my father.

As for Sandor, my Sworn Shield, Paladin for Vengeance and Cleric of the Twilight, he completely wiped the floor with all the knights he faced in the joust. Currently, we both knew that if he and his brother ever came to trade blows, the Hound would be victorious over the mountain in most of their encounters.

And I could see the thankfulness in his voice for that, given he took my suggestion of keeping his healed face a secret for now.

Besides, I also have a lot to gain if my Sworn Shield suddenly became the very best knight Westeros had to offer. And the Hound was just barely twenty years old, who knows how far he will progress by the time he reaches Barristan' age.

I've yet to reveal to them that they could survive most fatal wounds, at least if their Health Bars weren't completely emptied during combat, just because I believed it would embed bad habits of being careless into them.

But I digress…

The festivities were really a breath of fresh air to the Legionnaires who had marched and served me for almost a year now. Providing excellent encouragement for more people to seek out enlisting in my Royal Legion while also displaying that our high standards weren't merely the whims of a young prince.

And as with all the good things, my seventh name day party had come to an end by the third day of my stay at Seagard, with the morale of my men rising as high as it could have been for now. Fortunately, by then Lord Mallister had already agree to send several of his best workers to aid the renovation and improvement of the Water Tower at the Twins.

As the folk of Seaguard were still recovering from the fighting, eating, drinking and singing, I was finally allowed some alone time with my inner circle of companions around a cozy hearth, saying our goodbyes before I sailed with Sandor and Gerion towards the Iron Islands.

"I must tell you, dear nephew, your name day's parties are always the best." Tyrion told me before trying the flute I've gifted him. "The only bad part though is finding an appropriate gift to present you with. Instead, you are always the one handing out peculiar presents."

"I think of it more as an investment." I smiled at his confused look. "If you learn how to play it well, I will be graced with good music alongside good fellowship."

"Ah, that is what we are, isn't it?" Tyrion smiled recalling my tales.

"Absolutely, we are bound as the champions of the Seven." I nodded affirmatively, knowing that we weren't being eavesdropped by anyone else, thanks to Shadow finally doing her job accordingly. "Though I will also have to hand out a few tasks for you two to complete for me."

"You speak as if we will be separating, my prince." Questioned Daven while sharpening one of his arrows with a grindstone.

"Only momentarily." I suddenly informed my three companions. "At least until I return from my journey to the Iron Islands."

"But Don…" Daven subtly stored the arrow away in his inferior Inventory and turned to face me. "Is that really prudent given what you've told us in regards to their future rebellion?"

Raising an eyebrow I stared at him for a brief moment and he quickly expressed regret.

"Forgive me for doubting your judgment, my prince. It wasn't my intention to offend you in any way." Daven apologized with a bow.

"You haven't offended me in any way, Daven." Raising a hand I put him at ease.

"So, what will you have us do while you and Clegane are away?" Tyrion questioned while Sandor, who had his burned face back only thanks to my Minor Illusion, took a large bite off the chicken pie I've cooked for him.

"I need you to gain the support of the Westerland houses to subsidize our headquarters at Lannisport. Seek out a list of relevant individuals like Forley Prester, Addam Marbrand, Lyle Crakehall and Harwyn Plumm. With sufficient persuasion, I believe they can be a great addition to my Legion." I told Tyrion while activating my Bardic Inspiration. "Also, sent orders to Lord Lefford for locating and building outposts in a narrow goat path that compromises the westerlands' border defenses, request for Lord Farman to send a few of his ships to patrol our shores during the winter, for Lord Brax to provide us with some good horses and knights, for Lord Sarsfield to send us some of his best archers that can be put to good use and Lord Kenning to send immediate report if any Ironborn longship is sighted."

"It won't be easy, but I will manage." Tyrion reassured me, his expression showing how serious he was about all of this. "I believe you will also be leaving both Pia, Satin and that Tarly boy. Don't worry, I will have them secure at Casterly Rock. Though I'm not sure the lass will appreciate being separated from you."

"She will have to learn to grow less dependent on me. Besides, she also needs to practice the medical skills I've been teaching to her. As for the rest, I'll leave it to you, uncle." I turned to face Daven. "As for you, I need you to inform Tygett to call back all of my Legionnaires patrolling the Westerlands, so we can maintain our forces ready during the winter in case the Ironborn got stupid enough to rebel this early. Take all the provisions and capable men my uncle will be acquiring for us and start integrating it to reinforce Lannisport. Remember, my visions told me that they will first strike by setting my Grandfather's fleet aflame during the night, so stay vigilant if anything diverges from that."

"Understood." Daven nodded. "I've been looking forward to bringing a few changes to my family's city."

"So…" Sandor finally joined our conversation. "…will it be just the two of us sailing around those Iron cunts' territory?"

"Actually, I've called a few friends to join us." I told him, hearing Shadow's voice in my head informing me that the group I've called for was just in time.

"Friends? Who?" Sandor asked, confused.

"Greetings my friends, it's so good to see you're all safe and sound. Especially you, my prince." Spoke Syrio Forel, still beaming with the same confidence he had when we met years ago, followed by his noticeable proud braavosi accent.

"Syrio, it's so good to see you too." I replied to his greetings, ignoring Sandor's grumpy face while Tyrion and Daven followed my example.

"Ha! So we join again, after another one of your big and extravagant name day parties, my prince." Thoros loudly barged in with a beer jug in hand. "I've got some wild tales to share with you all."

While Tyrion and Daven greeted them all back, I noticed Clegane rolling his eyes and resuming to eat his meal.

What an antisocial moron.

Following the two Essosi men were Lothor Brune and Jalabhar Xho, displaying a few new scars over their bodies, but still looking healthy and confident enough.

"Salutations to all of you." Spoke the Summer Islander, now looking much like a skilled warrior, with a proper armor and weapon with him, than an exiled prince that knew nothing but to beg for my father's help in recovering his title.

"It's been a busy year, I'm pleased we all survived." The Crownlander freerider also joined in, speaking more openly than I was used to hearing from him.

"Likewise." I replied back to all of them. "We were talking about our plans for the future. Join us."

—————————————————————

(03/01/2022)

(05/01/2022)

(02/02/2022)

(18/08/2022)

*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.

** About the MC's Wild Shape perk, I haven't forgotten about it 😅 it's just that the opportunity to explore it more in depth hasn't presented itself yet. Here are some examples of what he has already unlocked.

[KNOWN WILD SHAPE FORMS: Ant, Baboon, Badger, Cat, Deer, Frog, Goat, Hyena, Jackal, Lizard, Rat, Squirrel, Otter, Little Valyrian, Scorpion, Spider, Weasel, Sheep, Camel, Mastiff, Mule, Poisonous Snake, Serpent, Pony, Turtle, Fox, Beaver, Boar, Constrictor Snake, Cow, Draft Horse, Elk, Zorses, Unicorn, Stag, Porcupine, Shadowcat, Panther, Leopard, Riding Horse, Steed, Hound, Wolf, Ape, Black Bear, Crocodile, Warhorse, Brown Bear, Dire Wolf, Auroch, Giant Spider, Giant Toad, Lion, Tiger.]

Recently, the MC unlock forms that can breath under water and a few giant variations such as:

[Fish, Crab, Salamander, Octopus, Sea Horse, Quipper, Giant Crab, Reef Shark, Dolphin, Giant Frog, Giant Octopus.]

Please don't mind the occasional redundancy with names like stag and elk. And I'm open to adding new species to this list if they don't strand too far away from the examples already there.

But the current limit to his feature is that flying creatures of any kind are still not available. On top of that, there are still some I felt were a little too big or foreign to be of any practical use other than having a larger list of transformations.

1) Bee, Butterfly, Seahorse.

2) Dove, Swallow, Raven, Crow, Goose, Duck, Rooster, Crane, Owl, Bat.

3) Falcon, Vulture, Swan, Hawk, Eagle.

5-8) Reef Shark, Hrakkar, Frost spider, Elephant, Walking Lizard, Lizard-Lion, Basilisk, Griffin.

*** I really recommend that you check out: "10 Years of WesterosCraft: A Showcase", it has helped me better picture the world George R.R. Martin has created. 😎👍

**** Sorry for the delay 😅 I'm currently visiting some relatives on the USA 🇺🇸 ❄️ ⛄️ (I first released this chapter around January and February of 2022)