114 ASOIAF - Chapter 2 Part 2

- Narrator -

Lagertha was without a doubt impressed by his achievements in battle. She knew there was very little chance someone else would've survived what he did. She had no idea how he managed to turn the tables on the bigger wolf, but she was glad it happened. She didn't even manage to kill a single one, her opponent ran away as soon as he noticed his leader was dead.

Aragorn was glad she didn't notice his blatant use of the inventory, being busy with an opponent of her own. He didn't know how the free folk regarded magic. He knew they had Wargs and Greenseers, so maybe they were not that biased against magic users.

< + 15 Reputation with Lagertha. >

< + 5 Obedience with Lagertha. >

< Status >

Name : Lagertha

-

STR : 51

DEX : 60

CON : 37

END : 22

CHA : 27

WIL : 34

Reputation : 55/100

Obedience : 10/100

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"You're one tough bastard, you know that?" Lagertha commented as they were searching for the last wolf through the woods.

"That is the word around, it seems." Aragorn smirked at his joke, while Lagertha chuckled in amusement.

"I think you'll fit right in with us." She added. Strong men were in high demand everywhere in this world, and strong men who know how to fight even more so.

"Ah, there he is." Aragorn exclaimed, having finally found their target. He wouldn't have bothered looking for the wolf, since he'd assumed he was wounded at best and had made peace with the fact that one of his beloved knives were lost forever. But the notifications informed him otherwise.

"We should head back now, we have about an hour before we reach our camp." She urged him, to which he nodded in agreement.

In the meantime, he was studying the new skills he obtained.

< [Blacksmithing: Mend. (Active)] LVL 1 >

Repairs broken objects.

< [Aura - Enhance (Active)] LVL 1 >

Project your Aura explosively outward, providing a significant boost of strength and speed. Amplifies the user's durability when balance is achieved.

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The [Mend] skill certainly seemed powerful, but surely it had limitations to avoid it being too powerful. Could he repair a sword that only had its hilt intact? Can the skill create the missing material out of nothing? Many questions came to him, but it is only through trials he would be able to answer them.

As for the [Aura - Enhance] skill... He knew it was something similar to [Empower], only more explosive. He could still feel the aftereffect of its use, and he knew that it would require at least a good night's sleep, as he seemed to recuperate faster while sleeping. His arms were both tired from overexertion, but also from the wounds inflicted upon him by the grey wolf, that isn't to mention the scratches all over his body.

"I will tell some of our tribesmen to come fetch the wolves, good meat shouldn't be wasted." She informed him, and Aragorn did not miss her choice of words.

"Our?" He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Yes. I have no doubt you will be one of us when I speak to the chieftain." She affirmed. There were no more monsters to fight on their way back. Soon enough, they started spotting huts through the trees, as they neared the tribe's camping spot.

As Lagertha was getting excited at finally arriving at her home, Aragorn suddenly stopped in place, eyeing the nearby trees with wariness. Lagertha stopped as well to give him a puzzled look before an expression of understanding graced her face.

"It's me, Lagertha!" She shouted at nobody in particular before a few men came out of their hiding spots. Some were visibly impressed by the man, as they were experienced hunters and could easily get the drop on experienced crows who ventured too far. Though their expression immediately turned serious when they noticed the lack of people in their group. They rarely ever separated into smaller groups unless there is an emergency, and they could only assume it was the case.

"Where are the others, Lagertha?" A man who seemed familiar with her asked with a frown shared by his companions.

"We were attacked by the forsaken." Lagertha answered. "I need to speak to the elders immediately." There was a similar look of outrage on each of them at the mention of the name, but they understood the gravity of the situation and escorted her back to the tribe. The issue seemed much deeper than just fighting some forsaken.

Aragorn was very wary of the bows they had because he had no way to defend against them in such close range, even his speed would fail him.

The area the tribe occupied seemed considerably large, judging by the expanse of their huts and houses, built of snow or wood, sometimes a combination of both, with enough space between each of them. It seemed a rather primitive way to live, but they were primitive people, to begin with, and they were forced to be as such given their circumstances. You don't bother with much thinking when you need to fight tooth and nail just to be able to eat.

They were brought together to a large clearing, where several figures stood, all of advanced age, the majority of which were surprisingly women. They seemed to be the elders Lagertha spoke of, but Aragorn find it surprising that the elders would be women when it was a known fact they were considered the weaker sex, even in his previous worlds, and therefore rarely assumed any position of leadership, especially not in medieval time, or in this case amongst wildling communities who valued strength above everything else.

"You're early, Lagertha." An old woman who stood at the center spoke with an old rasp voice. She used a walking stick to help keep her in place, and even with her hunched figure due to her old age, she was very tall, with an imposing demeanor that commanded respect from everyone. She was Igmilla Stormborn, a highly respected spear-wife among the Storm Tribe, both due to her achievements during her lifetime and the special conditions of her birth, a woman born amidst a storm, signifying how strong she ought to be to survive such an event as a babe.

"I was forced to come back early. A group of eight forsaken attacked us about a day's walk from here." Many frowned both at the mention of the forsaken but also at the latter part of her sentence.

"A day's walk? That's dangerously close." Another elder remarked.

"Indeed. A day's walk is still within our territory. They've traveled quite far." Igmilla commented thoughtfully before she turned her attention to the young man beside her. "And may I assume you're alive because of this man?" Igmilla was smart enough to deduce that her initial group wouldn't stand a chance against eight battle-hardened forsaken.

"Yes." Lagertha confirmed her guess. "This is Aragorn. He saved me when the four remaining forsaken tried to dishonor me. I owe him my life."

"Is that so?" Igmilla eyed him up and down, studying every single aspect of his existence. "You have very unusual... features, Aragorn." She was referring to his silver hair, which was never seen before, as his pale blue eyes were not that uncommon in the north.

"I also need to mention that he seems to have lost his memories." Lagertha added helpfully, to give her elders a better understanding of his person.

"Is that so?" Igmilla turned her attention to him again.

"Yes." Aragorn nodded.

"And how does one lose their memory, Aragorn?" Igmilla narrowed her eyes at him.

"I wouldn't know." Aragorn shrugged. "The first thing I remember is waking up in a tree cave."

"Yet you know what your name is. Why is that?" Another old woman asked him.

"I wish I could answer, but I am no expert in this subject." Aragorn immediately berated himself for his manner of speech, which would come more suspicious than anything. Though he also thought that it would be better to show his true self now than have to hide it for the rest of his stay here. Aragorn's expression suddenly turned cold, as he turned to face a man approaching him.

He was very tall, a giant if giants didn't truly exist in this world, standing at 6'4 (1m93). It was clear to him that he did not approach him with kind intention if the bloodlust he expressed towards him was any indication. He seemed to be one of the elders, a man by the name of Narleck.

"You're a southerner, aren't ya?" He said angrily. "A pretty boy like, with never seen before hair, speaks like a southerner and claims he lost his memory... We look that gullible to you, boy?" The man came closer and close to him, though Aragorn remained unmoved. "You even have the southerner's steel with you..." The man reached for the ax hanging from Aragorn's waist before the latter took it into his hand and put it on the taller man's chest.

"Touch me or what is mine, and you and I are gonna have some problems." He threatened with an even voice.

"We're gonna have some problems?" The man and a few others around chuckled at the ridiculous claim. "You sure about that?" He looked down at him from his higher eye level, trying to intimidate him with the height difference, to which Aragorn smiled.

"I cut a wolf three times your size on our way here." He raised an eyebrow. "You are lackluster in comparison." Narleck did not appreciate the remark, as his face contorted into an ugly expression. He was about to escalate the situation further before Igmilla prevented him.

"That's enough, Narleck. Leave the man alone." She said, making him turn to her with a disbelieving look, unable to understand how she could trust him at all. "He has no reason to pretend to be one of us. And he's saved one of us from a fate worse than death. Even if he was truly a southerner, he couldn't have planned the forsaken's attack on our children, let alone come in with the perfect timing to save Lagertha from a fate worse than death." Everyone took their time to digest her words, while she turned her attention to their new guest. "Aragorn, I want to thank you on behalf of our people for saving our child. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish, even become one of ours if it suits you." She said kindly, before retreating to her home. A few of the female elders followed closely behind her.

Unsurprisingly, the tall elder was still in the very same spot in a glaring contest against the newcomer, doing his best to assert his dominance.

"Imma keep my eyes on you, boy. I've killed many a crow in my life, and for yer sake, I hope you ain't one." He spat on the ground before walking away.

"Don't let his words get to you. He's like that with everyone." Lagertha said helplessly. "He only has our best interests at heart." She smiled as she said that, knowing Narleck was truly devoted to his people, as he'd given his all to the tribe, even his sons died protecting their people.

"You've accepted him too fast, Igmilla. It's unlike you." An old woman remarked as they walked together.

"Yes. You're usually more distrustful of outsiders. And everything about the boy screamed southerner." Another one added. Though they were met with silence.

"Did you... see something?" One of her companions said uncertainly.

"Perhaps..." Igmilla said cryptically. "Only time will tell."