44 3/3

The Brave Companions, while a younger mercenary company, already had quite infamous reputation. They were brutal towards captives and enjoyed pillaging helpless villages whenever work was short. The Companions also were amusingly not that brave despite the name, seeming to favor battles where they had the larger numbers or going against lesser foes. Despite that though, they had become successful on both sides of the Narrow Sea.

"Rude of you to use that lowly nickname and say such lies." The mercenary leader answered back dismissively while letting his arm off Marcus, so he could go get drinks for the sellswords. The group began to settle down at a nearby table, seeming eager to relax back after a long trek. "So what brings you five here to the Riverlands? Seeking mercenary work as well?"

"What makes you think that?" Alya coyly asked as she'd stare back, her gaze alluring yet having a predatory gleam to it.

"Because all of you are quite well armed for simple travelers…except the old man who I take is your leader, the brains of the group." The Northerner noted. "Don't let my gruff appearance fool you, I was picked to lead this group because of my sharp wit and perception."

"Interesting…then I'll admit you are correct." Zarin calmly answered back.

"Curious. I wonder how a small band like you plan to get involved in an all-out war. Smaller groups usually stick to smaller conflicts."

"You could say we're specialists." The Shadow remarked, giving a quite chilling grin that had the sellsword leader shiver slightly. "A group of misfits all with a common cause you could say."

Chuckling, the sellsword leader took a deep drink from his mug. "I feel like I'm getting more questions than answers from all of you."

"Then how about we ask one." Ogatto replied back with a small smirk. "What does the Brave Companions plan to do in this conflict?"

"Simple. Work for whoever will pay the highest." One of the men laughed out.

"Already sent notices to both sides, putting our starting price out. They'll no doubt want a small army like ours since we're in the heartland of the region." Another added.

"Whoever pays up first means we can start raiding their enemy and pick at their smaller defenses. Maybe we'll even snag a fort for ourselves."

"Bet the Lannisters will pay the most. Gold haired bastards toss coin around like it's nothing."

The mercenaries yammered about, though the group leader kept a close eye on the others, manly at Zarin. "That isn't the only reason why we're here though…isn't that right boys?" The men quickly quieted down, a sudden discipline about the noisy men. "See, we were sent out from the main force to look for two individuals who caused us a bit of pain a while back. An old man in red and a half-blind Dothraki."

There was a tense pause at that point, the cheerful side that the sellswords had not fully gone. Marcus was still by the bar, eyes narrowed as he could see how everyone shifted where they sat or stood, readying to rush forward or reaching for a weapon. Everyone except the mercenary leader and Zarin who had locked gazes right then.

"So then…why is the Brave Companions going so far to hunt an old man like me and a lonesome Dothraki?" Zarin casually asked despite the tension in the air.

"Oh the usual…fucking with us." The man remarked, though his last words had a hateful tone suddenly mixed in. "Was a mistake for our men to join such a risky job to kill King Robert, even though the payment was quite high." The man shrugged slightly. "Course, you had to go as far and kill a few of them. We were all surprised when one of our men returned to us crawling, face half melted nearly to the bone. Kept moaning about a red robed man and half blind Copper Skin backstabbing them before dying in the next hour."

Again there was a long pause. "So why not attack us on the road?"

"The boss had a feeling you were part of a larger group, wanted us to follow to take care of everyone. Why take down just two when we can wipe out the whole group." At this point the men still sitting started to stand up, a few giving eager grins as they knew a fight was coming. "Oh and Marcus…sadly you'll have to die too. Can't have any witnesses. Nothing personal."

The innkeeper was silent as he'd stand by the bar, giving a harsh gaze back at the sellsword.

"So then…any final requests before we end this?"

"More like a challenge." Ogatto suddenly spoke up as he'd set forward to be between the two groups. "I'll let one of you get the first blow on me, Ogatto, the White Eye Rider…the Grim of the Red Sands!"

The boasting titles drew some odd looks from the sellswords, though the claim of being a Grim drew a few low laughs. "A Grim? The boogeymen of Westeros? Their a fucking myth!" One of the men snapped out, a fellow Dothraki. "Though I do know that other title…one reviled by all of the Khalasars across the Great Grass Sea." He'd then spit at Ogatto's feet, the Blood Rider only smirking back from the insult.

"What did he do exactly?" The group leader questioned.

"He questioned then broke our traditions, insulted the Khals and disgraced himself in battle. Worse…in false mercy, he murdered a Khal in cold blood along with his horse. There is no greater insult then that!"

Ogatto gave a low chilling chuckle, making the sellswords flinch in shock from it. That one pale eye having a glare of life show in it for that moment. "I did all of that to make a point. For our people followed men who are blind to our weakness, thinking we are feared when we are in fact an annoyance to the Free Cities. We are no longer destroyers of civilizations, just petty raiders of villages."

"Enough!" The Dothraki sellsword growled out, drawing a large knife from his belt. "I'll rip out your heart for the Khals to feast on!"

"Then come get it."

With that final dare given, the Dothraki lunged out lightning fast, his fellow men cheering him on. The other Grims stood by silently as they watched the scene, seeming unworried as their companion had left himself completely defenseless for a stab to the chest. As the knife reached over his heart, there be a clang as the metal tip suddenly rebound off the bloodrider's chest. The Dothraki yelled out in shock, seeing that the knife tip had even broke off from the impact.

"How-?!" He'd see it now through the ripped fur and leather, a hint of metal. It was a breastplate, copper tinted and without any luster, making it blend well under Ogatto's tribal garb and deep colored skin. At that point the Dothraki realized his fatal mistake as he saw the Blood Rider's murderous grin.

"My turn." Suddenly both hands slammed to the side of the man's head with a resounding slam. The impact had the man yell out in pain as his ears were ringing, dropping his broken dagger from the powerful blow. Strong fingers then dug into the man's face, the thumbs digging into the eyes as the Dothraki's yelling soon became horrible screams. Ogatto gave a fearsome roar as his large arms bulged, body tensing as he'd then twist the man's head completely to the side. The screaming ended with a deep crack and a gurgling grunt as the Dothraki's neck was snapped, his head lolling about as Ogatto let go of him to fall limply to the ground.

"KILL THEM ALL!" One of the Brave Companions yelled in anger, the group quickly drawing their weapons to attack. Their leader though didn't rush in like the others, hanging back as he seemed to realize just how dangerous the strangers were.

Ogatto gave an eager laugh as he drew his Arakh off his shoulder strap, hefting the large curved blade with ease in one hand. "Join me Alya. Let's give them the dance of death!" The man roared out as he'd give a sweeping swing at the first sellsword to reach him, the scythe like blade and inhuman strength cutting deeply into his side. The man screamed and struggled in pain before being silenced as the Blood Rider withdrew his weapon and drove the long-spiked hilt into the man's forehead. The brutal kill drew surprised yells from the nearby men, shaken by the Blood Rider's brutal skill.

"With pleasure." Alya chuckled, the leather wrap around her spear quickly thrown aside to reveal the fine weapon. The shaft of the spear was a deep red, with the bottom end having a metal cap fitting for a quarterstaff while the top end had a sharp spear head. The razor end was elegantly designed, having a bronze snake coiled around the upper shaft and lower end of the spear head base.

With a few quick strides, she'd lunge into fray and stab a mercenary through the chest, the fine steel piercing through cheap chainmail with ease. The man gasped and coughed up blood as she'd twist the spear inside of him before withdrawing, body twisting away in a graceful summersault. Soon she and Ogatto were back to back, the two fair skinned warriors working together to protect each other's flanks. They were outnumbered, though only so many of the sellswords could surround and attack them at once. Plus, their long reaching weapons preventing the men from attacking as one in an overwhelming attack.

Alya spun her spear about, striking the blunt end of the weapon into the ribs of one warrior before lashing out with the spear blade to slice across another man's shoulder. Painful injuries, though not enough to kill them. Ogatto was more aggressive, giving wide arching swings that could easily cleave a man in two. One Brave Companion got too close and soon had that Arakh sinking deep into his shoulder and halfway into his chest before being punched across the face, forcing him off the blade and tumbling dead onto his reeling companions.

"Back away and form up! Defensive now!" Their leader yelled out, trying to rally his men. They'd quickly back away from the Blood Rider and Sand Snake, both watching the sellswords armed with shields set up a protective formation. "Now press forward. Don't break the line!" The group advanced, shoving and kicking any tables or chairs out of the way as they'd approach Grims.

"Your turn Doric." Ayla stated, the armored knight having gotten up when the fighting began.

He had his large shield and mace out, both heavy weapons which he carried with ease. Stomping forward to be in the path of the sellswords. "Your defense is flawed. No united pattern." The man deeply stated as he'd shift his stance out, left side forward and shield out.

"Don't back down. Overwhelm him!' The Brave Companion captain spoke out, drawing a determined yell from the group.

The shield wall closed in on Doric, the knight keeping his forward stance. Suddenly his shield arm lashed out in a short powerful bash, aimed at the joining point of two mercenary shields. The lack of proper bracing made both men stagger back, leaving them and their companions just behind them exposed. Flowing from the bash, Doric's mace crashed downward onto one shield man's head, caving half of it in as gravity and pure strength pulverized flesh and bone.

"Force him back damnit!" The group obeyed, weapons and shields lashing out at Doric, the man not even move an inch as the group counter attacked. His shield blocked most blows from the left while his braced stance let him ward off attacks to his armored right. The heavy armor did well protecting him from bladed attacks, while even blunt blows seemed to do nothing to him even as the metal armor showed faint dents. Not once did Doric grunt or show any pain as he'd seemingly held the group back while continuing to strike out with shield and mace.

"Together damnit!" One Companion growled before getting his nose broken by a shield strike, making him stagger back and weaken the defensive line even more. By now Ogatto and Ayla quickly moved up to take a spot beside Doric, the Dothraki on the left and Ayla on the right. The Dornwoman took advantage of her reach to deliver quick stabs and slashes with her bladed spear, the men unable to defend quickly since they had been focused on attacking Doric's more exposed right side. Ogatto meanwhile would lunge in every time the knight's shield bashed the Companions back, giving a fierce yell as he'd slice and hack away at the staggered sellswords. Between the three they took down four more, making the men's moral waver. Even the level-headed Companion leader was becoming shaken and losing his calm.

"How in the Hells can they fight so…coordinated!" He cursed to himself, directing the men to back away and take a tighter formation now as they tried retreated to the main door out.

Suddenly, a barbed arrow shot from behind a support beam and right into one Companion's neck, making him go wide eye and grasp at the arrow in reaction. He'd try to pull the wicked arrow out only to rip out half his throat before dropping to the ground, gagging as he choked on his own blood. Stepping into view, the Shadow gave a quite evil grin as he'd nock another arrow and fire at another sellsword, the man yelling out as the missile ripped deeply into his shoulder.

"You didn't think I'd miss out on the fun either?" The assassin chuckled as he stood in their way.

The five remaining mercenaries were trembling as they stood back to back, disturbed by just how brutal these strangers were. Their leader looked about nervous, trying to think of some new tactic or escape plan, but he didn't see any way out. "Alright…we…we made a mistake threatening you. Surely we can cut a deal."

"Ah deal you say?" Zarin at last spoke, the man shifting out of his seat as he'd pace over to the group. Marcus also joined up, the man having taken his heavy crossbow off from its mount, the impressive weapon loaded with a strong bolt. Garm was beside him growling at the men who'd flinch at the sight of the fearsome half-wolf. "You aren't one to make demands here and you had plenty of chances to back off…friend."

"I can give you information! Details the Brave Companions plans. Army movements, supplies and more!" The Northerner quickly answered back. "Just let me and my men go in return."

The Shadow and Ogatto chuckled out at the man's offer, seeming quite amused. "What makes you think Zarin can't get the answers himself…or has them already?" The Dothraki stated.

At that point one of the men suddenly broke away from the group, trying to rush to the doorway. The Shadow didn't bother to stop him as the man slammed into the heavy doorway, realizing the assassin had locked it. Before he could even turned around, Marcus fired a bolt right into his back, the powerful crossbow making it pierce right through him and stab into the doorway. Pinned to the door, the man gave gasping breaths before slumping forward, dead.

"The thing is all of you are parasites to the world." Zarin calmly stated as he stepped forward, the other Grims closing in as well. "You are all lowly cowards; men who take and destroy instead of build and protect. All of knew what the Bloody Mummers were about…the raiding���"

The Shadow fired another arrow, going right into one Companion's eye.

"…the murdering…"

Doric slammed his mace into another sellsword's gut, making him cough up blood before being smashed to the ground by a shield blow.

"…the raping…"

Ayla twirled her spear about, the Companion she lunged thinking it was a stab only to get the bladed edge sinking right into the side of his face.

"…and torture."

The last grunt screamed as he tried to rush away, hoping to find some escape at the back of the hall. Aiming and firing, Marcus shot a bolt right into the man's knee to have him howl out and tumble, before Garm rushed in. His yells of pain were short lived as the half-wolf bite down onto his throat and thrashed.

Zarin slowly paced forward to the Companion leader, the man holding up his hand axe in defense. He was trembling, his usual composure at its limit as he stared down the calm alchemist. "Killing me and my men just delays your end." He muttered, trying to seem imposing with his threatening warning. "The Companions are over two hundred strong and will not stop until all of you suffer a slow death. What can the six of you and one mutt possibly do against an army?"

"You'd be surprised. It only takes one person to topple a nation, all it takes is the right steps to do so." The alchemist casually stated as he'd take out a pair of fine leather gloves that were a deep red color. "The Bloody Mummers will be the first casualty of the new revolution, a loss no one will mourn over." With a flick of his right wrist, a gleaming dagger slipped out from the sleeve of his robe. "Now then…any last words?" The other Grims stood back as they let their leader take on the Companion, not seeming worried for him.

"To the Hells with you old man!" Quickly the sellsword lunged out, large hand axe swinging out for Zarin's neck.

The alchemist though was faster, dodging aside before his dagger plunged into the man's right elbow, ripped through joint with ease. Twisting and turning the weapon, he'd quickly disarm the man as he'd drop his weapon and howl in pain as his arm was forced back. His anger drove him on though as he'd last out with a left hook, the alchemist leaned back to avoid it while withdrawing his weapon from the man's arm. Zarin ducked from another punch, slipping up close to the man as his dagger again stabbed out, aiming for left armpit. With the man's arm lashing out, it was completely exposed for a fatal attack. The Companion gave a deep grunt as the blade sunk into him, bypassing the breastplate he wore. The blade slipped between his ribs, pierced right through the left lung and just sunk into his heart. With what air the man had, he'd gasp up thick blood as his one good arm grasped at Zarin's shoulder, though it was hard to tell if it was in a fighting or pleading.

"Painful isn't it? I wonder how many lives you've ruined with the same pain." The alchemist coldly whispered while the Companion face a choking growl as he clung to life. "When I am done…Westeros will never have to suffer from your filth or the cruelty of tyrants." With that he'd twist the dagger sharply, making the man give another shaken breath before he'd go limp as his heart was diced within him. Withdrawing the blade, he'd wipe the blade clean off of the dead man's clothes before letting him drop to the ground surrounded by his fellow sellswords.

"A bit over dramatic don't you think?" The Shadow chuckled as he'd prod one of the dead Companion's to make sure he was dead. "He was a nobody after all."

"You are right." Zarin sigh, seeming to have returned to his usual formal demeanor now that the sellswords were wiped out. He'd carefully tuck his dagger back into a hidden sheath strapped to his forearm.

"Quite the fucking mess we've made here…" Marcus sighed, looking over the fourteen sellswords and puddles of blood everywhere. "Why is it when we get together this stuff happens?"

"Bad luck?" Ogatto chuckled with a grin before glancing to Ayla.

"These men deserved it. After all they were planning to kill you even if you weren't a Grim…and you family…" Ayla remarked, though seeing Marcu's intense glare had her stop speaking.

"Let us not be distracted by the 'what ifs'." Zarin sighed, waving his hand dismissively. "I apologize Marcus for bringing so much trouble to your home. I didn't expect the Bloody Mummers to send such a large force to hunt us down."

The Northerner gave a small grunt of annoyance yet nodded his head slightly. Pacing over to the slain leader, he'd be silent in thought before speaking. "So can we do it Zarin? The six of us against not just the Brave Companions but possible against the Lords of Westeros? I know I shouldn't be doubtful right now…but the risks are great…"

"I have worked for over thirty years to prepare for this Marcus, I know the risks better than anyone." The alchemist muttered, his gaze drifting over his companions. "I chose the five of you because you have the skills and motivation to bring real change to this world. If any of you have any fear or doubt, you are free to leave without worry of punishment." Pausing, he'd again look around the surrounding Grims who remained where they stood.

"I swore an oath to follow your lead no matter what. Your vision of the future is the best course for all of Westeros and perhaps the rest of the world." Doric answered back with a short respectful bow.

"You've been a mentor for half my life. Without you I would have wasted my potential or died long ago." Ayla remarked. "Dorne will at last have a real place with the rest of Westeros and end the corruption this divided nation has suffered for generations."

The Shadow was silent for a long moment, for the first time this meeting showing a thoughtful look in his gloomy eyes. "You saved my life, so I owe you for that. Can't say I care much fixing the world's problems…" The assassin paused, almost as if debating if he'd say something deep and meaningful as the others. In the end he'd give a small smirk. "Fuck it. Can't deny the fame and riches we'll get, so no backing down here."

Ogatto gave a wide grin and nodded. "Westeros isn't my home…never will be. What we will accomplish though will shake across all of Esso. To the rulers of the Free Cities, the Masters of Slavers Bay and the Khals of the Dothraki. All of them will have to adapt or be wiped out over what is to come."

Last was Marcus, the Northerner pacing slightly as he'd look between his fellow Grims with a narrow gaze. "I'm a simple man. A hunter…a soldier…father. Never wanted to go against Lords and Kings." His hands gripped his crossbow tightly. "In the end they are the one who forced my hand. I may be common blood, but my life and that of my family is worth just as much as theirs!" He'd give a low growl and nod. "For the sake of my family and all honest folk, I'll stand with all of you."

With their speeches all given, Zarin gave a pleased smile to his companions. "I expected nothing less." His gaze drifted down to the surrounding dead with a dismissing look. "So for everyone remaining in the Riverlands, you now have to remove these parasites before they become too involved in the civil war. We can't take down a whole army, but all we need to do is break their will to fight."

"Oh I have a good feeling on what you have in mind." The Shadow chuckled eagerly.

"Put a bounty notice out in every town and outpost you go for the emblems and heads of the Brave Companions. I want at least five thousand on Vargo Hoat himself. If he dies the Companions will become divided by infighting. The group may even turn on itself if the reward is that appealing…or we spread enough fear to have them divide." He'd again glance over their slain enemies, a smirk on his face. "Our foes are a cowardly bunch as you can see. They will crumble with ease."

"By the Seven, Old Gods and…UGH, all the Faiths of the world!?" A sudden female voice yelled out, making everyone glance back to see Sandra standing by the doorway from the private quarters looking over the remains of the recent fight. Her face was paled at the gory sight, the woman keeping herself composed as she'd snap out. "Zarin! Your meeting is over! Get this…slaughter cleaned up…all of it!" With that she'd slam the door, leaving an awkward silence over the group.

Sighing, the alchemist moved to his bag to collect out bottles and other mixtures for the task ahead. "How rude of me to ignore such a matter, much less as a guest."

"You do know that it's going to take us all night just to get all these bodies removed and blood cleaned up." Ayla sighed as she'd already start picking up the dropped weapons and getting them piled up.

"Morning if since we have to dump the bodies away from here." Doric added as the large knight grabbed two corpses and began to drag them for the door outside.

"Then you best all do an excellent job. If my wife see's one drop of blood you'll rather be facing the Mountain, Jaime and the Witcher instead." Marcus warned as he lugged one body over his shoulder. Despite the carnage around them, the group couldn't help but start to chuckle and laugh at the Northerner's jesting warning. In a way they were like a family, if one formed from strife and blood. Yet that kind of bond and comradery could be enough to topple a nation.

…

Catelyn Stark – The Riverlands – Riverrun

Never in all her life had Catelyn faced as muchanxiety as she had in just the last few months. Between the crippling fall for Bran, watching half of her family leave home and then hearing the shocking news coming from King's Landing. She had been traveling slowly since leaving the capital, not wishing to exhaust herself like she did when coming south. When news came on the road of her husband being arrested for treason, she had been quick to change her route to Riverrun to seek aid from rest of House Tully.

When she arrived, she learned of the troubling news of her father suffering under a terrible illness, something he had kept secret to only a select few, leaving her brother Edmure in charge of his duties. She wanted nothing more than her family to gather their men and march south in defense of her husband yet knew such a rash move would only worsen the situation.

"Only worsen…" She muttered to herself, bowing her head slightly. Glancing down at the desk she was sitting at, she'd read over the fourth letter she had been writing, this one to her sister in the Eyrie. She wish she could do more than write pleading letters, but for now that was all she had to rely on. Before she could continue writing, there be a knock at the door and the voice of a servant speaking through it.

"Lady Stark…Lord Edmure and Ser Brynden are requested you to come to The Great Hall for special meeting."

Curious, she'd get up and grab her cloak before opening the door to gaze at the shy servant girl. "At this hour? What is the reason for this?"

"I…it seems a strange trio of women have come to pay respects to your brother my lady. They claim to have news about your husband and children."

The part mentioning her family drew a surprised look show on Catelyn's face as she'd quickly hurry pass the servant and heading through the winding halls to the main hall. She knew she shouldn't be so excited by this, since she knew nothing of these visitors. But right now she had to know what happened to her family after the harrowing escape from King's Landing a week ago. Reaching the Great Hall speedily involved crossing the lush Godswood, following a clear trail from the main keep to the Hall itself. Arriving, she'd find her uncle and brother already seated at the head table, Edmure at his place in the high seat.

Edmure was a dashing clean-shaven man with a broad strong jaw, short cut auburn hair and sharp deep blue eyes. He had a lean muscular build, expect of him considering he was next in line to lead House Tully since it's Lord to be capable for battle. She just hoped his hot-headed nature and near blind desire for women didn't get the better of him.

Her uncle Brynden or better known as the Blackfish was an example of what Edmure may look like in his later years. His hair was now a deep gray and face wind-burnt, though his own blue eyes had not lost their fierce luster. Despite his age he was quite fit, having kept to his strict training even during peaceful times. Being a veteran of over fifty battles was no small feat and he was planned to increase that number with the next conflict.

"I have a bad feeling about these guests, Edmure. Its improper that you let strangers in so late, much less the type claiming to be 'seers'." The Blackfish muttered. He and his nephew often argued, though Brynden did it out of stern advice.

"They claim to have information about Lord Eddard and his daughters. Rumors and guessing will only get us so far, so can't hurt to see what these three sisters have to offer."

"From what the guards say they are an odd bunch, foreign though not seeming to be from Essos." At this point Brynden would see Catelyn, giving a short nod to her as she'd take her seat close by. "Could you convince your brother to reconsider this meeting? For all we know this could be a ruse of some fortune tellers."

"Uncle…I know this may seem informal, but we're desperate for any information. If they demand payment, then we will refuse them and send them away. Surely that is a good compromise." She calmly answered back.

"Waste of time this is…" The Blackfish muttered. before the main doors into the hall were pushed open.

Four guards filed in followed by three women dressed in quite common clothes fitting of peasants, though crafted out of fine materials. Their garb was a mix of work dresses and aprons, though each one had a few extra accessories such as one wearing a red cone hat, another vialed headdress and the other carrying wicker basket full of bottles drinks and brew at her hip. One thing they all shared was the fact they were all breathtakingly beautiful, having full curvy figures and soft comely faces. One thing for sure was that Edmure had an appealed gleam in his eyes, much to his uncle's annoyance.

The trio approached the high table before stopping to give low respectful bows to the gathered Tullys.

"Lord Edmure…"

"…Ser Brynden…"

"…and Lady Stark…"

"We are honored for this sudden audience." All three said at once as they again gave a low bow. Their voices did have an odd tone to it, very unlike the accents common to the Riverlands or the neighboring Kingdoms.

The three Tullys gave curious looks between the visitors and then themselves, finding this greeting to be quite…different. "Wonder how long they rehearsed that." Brynden whispered to Catelyn with a low chuckle.

"They are a bit eccentric that is sure." She muttered in agreement as the three women stood up from their bow. "I wonder how they knew my name though. I've only been home for little more than a month and in secret."

Her uncle glanced back at the women with questioning look, rubbing across the scruff of his chin in though. His nephew though was quick to greet back their odd guests.

"Thank you for such a kindly greeting. It seems you already know us already, though we cannot say the same for you." He answered back formally.

"Our names are quite…unique, good Lord. My name would be Whispess, eldest and leader of our group." Said the woman with the hooded vale. She'd then gesture to her sisters, first to the one with the cone hat. "This would be Weavess…" Then to the one with the basket of bottles. "and Brewess. The three of us are Seers who have taken home at a place you call Highheart."

Again the Tullys leaned in to speak to themselves. "Odd names indeed. Those surely can't be their real names." Catelyn whispered. "Highheart, that is a barren hill just to the southeast of here. Nothing there but Weirwood stumps."

"They are definitely foreign. I know Highheart has been abandoned since the time of the Andels, at least in legend. I question though if they have the right to take ownership of it. Besides, we have gotten reports of disappearances around those woods."

"Then perhaps we should ask them about that." Edmure muttered before speaking up towards the three sisters. "I can tell you three aren't from Westeros. May I ask what brought you to that ancient hill in the first place?"

Weavess would step forward to answer. "Because of prophecy. The hill is sacred despite being uncared for generations and we seek to restore it to its former glory."

"Already life blooms under our care. Our rites and elixirs do such wonders." Brewess added.

"Another question, would you happen to know of the odd disappearances throughout the woods there?" Edmure asked.

"Odd stirring are about that is for sure. We cannot say good lord, for we've kept to the hill and surroundings woods ever since finding it." Whispess formally answered. "But surely you wish us to answer more concerning questions. Our gift of sight shows us many things, such as the fate of the dear Lady's husbands and children."

"Forgive me if I'm doubtful on such claims. I've heard plenty of promises from soothsayers and fortunetellers, more than enough to know they are fakes." The Blackfish sternly questioned.

A faint smirk was just seen under the seer's vale, seeming amused by the knight's remarks. "Harsh words Blackfish. Always the outsider within your family, striving to impress. Why else would you thrown yourself battle after battle, facing greater odds?" However, she'd stop when she saw the man's scowl, hinting that she right with her prediction.

"Do not trouble the man trouble the man with the truth sister, we are here to aid the worried mother." Weavess added, giving a short bow to the Tullys and looking to Catelyn. "Do you wish to hear what our sight has shown, even if it brings pain to you?"

There was a tense silence as Catelyn looked to her uncle and brother. Brynden had a sharp glare in his eyes, showing the seer's words about him had struck a nerve. Edmure though seemed quite curious over what he had heard so far. In the end, she'd nod to the three sisters in agreement. "Tell me then…the worse parts first."

"Brave of you to ask of that. A strong woman as the signs say." Brewess cooed.

"The Warden of the North, Old Wolf of the House of Stark, is dead." Weavess calmly stated.

"Felled by the cruel arrow of a living shadow." Whispess finished.

Catelyn trembled hearing what the seers said. Their words while vague had deep meaning to them and the way the three looked at her showed no lies from what she could tell. "Tell me more. Everything…how he was captured…what happened to my daughters…all of it."

"A fraud trial he was condemned, having learned a truth taboo and vile."

"Torn between love and honor, he chose family before all else."

"Yet the false boy king forgo reason for selfish malice, wanting death instead of mock justice."

"Those loyal, priest of red, fencer and slayer of monsters intervened…"

"…hurrying a dying Lord and mourning daughters to the isle of black stone."

"Black stone? Only place could be Dragonstone." Edmure muttered to his sister. "Eddard mentioned that Stannis was the true heir to the Iron Throne in his letter. It make sense they'd flee there."

"And it explain why we got no direct messages from them as well. They must assume you are still returning to Winterfell." Brynden muttered, giving a sideward glance to the seers. "These women must have some far-reaching ties to know this…are masters of guessing…or…"

"Magic?" Edmure chuckled.

"Bloody fantasy that is." The Blackfish lowly growled. "Hate how they talk in turn and have to be so vague on very sentence! I prefer straight answers not damn riddles!"

"When you think over every word, it makes sense." Catelyn calmly pointed out. "What matters is my daughters are safe at Dragonstone and that Geralt is watching them."

"A no more capable man considering. Ignoring the false claims the Lannisters have, he seems to be a one-man army. He'll get Sansa and Arya to the North safely."

"If you will excuse us interrupting your graces, we do have more to say. There is nothing else we can share about Lady Stark's daughters, but we can offer other services to you."

"Such as?' Edmure curiously questioned.

"Potent brews and cures, advice, mystic knowledge and of our sight." Weavess stated.

"We seek only the stability of the Lords and people in the Riverlands. With civil war threatening your lands, we'd be a valuable ally." Brewess added.

"All we ask is that we have official ownership High Heart and the boundary woods. We seek to make it a…haven for those needing aid and comfort. Many people will be displaced by the conflict. We have great experience tending to the orphaned young as well." Whispress finished.

"I don't trust them." Brynden muttered. "We know too little of them and who knows what they haven't told us."

"Worried about three charming women living on an empty hill uncle? We'll keep a close eye on them, see if there is anything odd about them. However they could prove useful if they are willing to help for little to nothing."

"Which is what worries me. Everything has a price, no matter how freely offered."

Edmure paused in thought, looking between uncle and sister before glancing at the three sisters. His gaze drifted over their alluring bodies and soft charming faces. They seemed to notice his glancing interest, giving a sly smiles and glares to him. "This…is a matter I will have to think over. Still I will allow you to stay at High Heart and will send a messenger once I've decided."

"As you see fit Lord Edmure." Whispress replied before she and her sisters gave a short bow. "Then we will take out leave but be weary in the coming weeks."

"For the woods will be thick with the dead…" Weavess followed up.

"…and the rivers thick red with blood." Brewess added.

With that the three turned to leave, sandaled feet patting across the ground. Low chuckles and giggles escaped from them, which was chilling as it seemed to become a more witchy cackle as the door behind them closed shut. Cateyln felt shaken after that grim warning and knew that things were about to get much worse for her whole family.

"Robb…Bran…Rickon…Sansa and Arya…by Old Gods and New please be safe…" She whispered to herself while her uncle and brother gave worried looks to her as she'd silently hold back tears.

…

"Quite a good first impression yes?" Whispess chuckled

"Edmure was nearly love struck. Did you see how he eyed me." Brewess giggled.

"Such a lustful man. He will be easy to toy with once we get our claws on him." Weavess gleefully remarked.

"We have plenty of choices if he proves too difficult. These Lannisters to the south could be a useful tool…and when the young Robb marches from the North he could be controlled."

"The minor Houses should be our next focus. So much old hates and ambitions, easy to warp to our needs."

The three Crones looked over Riverrun from the cover of the thick woods, all of them now in their monstrous true forms. They had been getting stronger in the last few weeks, the growing magic and fresh meat of humans having restored their power quickly.

"We must play to our guise sister. If we reveal too much our true nature, we will have to take more…forceful steps to build our army." Whispress glanced to Brewess. "How has your experiments been going with the Pit? We need more than the ghouls if we wish to strike out."

"Oh I have something better cooking. Been hunting all the beasts needed to create a chort for us, perhaps a fiend if the pit's power is a strong as we believe."

"Then focus all your attention and power to it. Weavess and I will see to dealing with Raventree Hall and the troublesome boy. The Blackwoods may be a minor House, they're influence could prove dangerous if left unchecked." The crone gave a grin under her vail. "Winter is coming sisters…we must be strong for the 'sake' of all of Westeros."

…