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A Fourth Lion

Reincarnated into the twin brother of Tyrion, watch as Cerion Lannister deals with plots, schemes and war. Will he live or die in this game of thrones? ——————————————————————————— It’s my first time writing so dialogue may seem a bit awkward. Also I’m just writing for fun because I’m bored of reading. Updates may be inconsistent. I would also like to add that Cerion will not be a dwarf. I would also like to point out that a character can only be as smart as the author. [The cover art isn’t mine]

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45 Chs

Recruiting

"This is a lot more than 300 people." Monty tells me, I just hum as I observe all of the people standing in the field in front of me, There must be 1,000 at least. I had expected something like this to happen, the census takers did cut off the admissions when they reached 300 names but people probably followed them or heard about where we were meeting. In any case, a larger group to draw recruits from means I have a better chance of finding better skilled individuals.

"It's alright, We'll just have to adapt." I tell him, Monty just grumbles about the increase in administration work he'll have to do. I order one soldier from my increased Lannister escort, father thought that there would be too few Redcloaks to police such a large amount of people, to stand in just a few metres to my right.

Once they had done as I'd ordered, I turn to address the crowd "RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU HAVE EXPERIENCE FIGHTING" I shout out, trying to project my voice across the field to the few at the back. I would say around a quarter of them raised their hand, however the number could be fewer as some might be lying. "THOSE WITH THEIR HANDS RAISED, LINE UP IN FRONT OF HIM." I point to the soldier I had just given an order to.

As those people move to form a decently long line I turn towards the couple of census takers I had next to me. "I want you to go down the line and document their name, age and occupation, just like what I had you do before. However I also want you to put a star next to their names if they are a Sellsword or a circle if they are a Hedge Knight." They all nod and and start making their way down the line. If I was being honest, I didn't want too may experienced fighters in my personal guard. Sellswords killed for coin and I will always have to look over my shoulder if the men I trust with my life would kill me the second someone willing to pay them more than me contacts them. Hedge Knights were better, however due to a lack of income many turn towards banditry and become Robber Knights. My idea is that If my guard is mainly comprised of the poorer and less fortunate in life, they might feel more loyal to me if I help them and give them a better life.

Spies are also a problem, I have no doubt that agents of Littlefinger, Varys and other players would see this as an ideal opportunity. Chances are that those spies would guess that they have a better chance of joining my guard if they said they had experience.

"What about the rest of them Cerion?" Monty asks me, I look over the rest of the men gathered around. "Split them as equally as you can into 8 groups. I want you to take a different group to a different station and then rotate, similar to what we had planned before. Stop the tests when there is only one man left, have the census takers tell the recruits that only those in the overall top 20 of each group will be able to join my personal guard." I tell him, he just nods and delegates the other administrators to a different station each.

I had decided that I wanted to test their endurance and strength as I thought they were most easy and basic to evaluate. I had set up eight different stations around the field during these last couple days, each station had a different exercise: push-ups, sit-ups, the plank, pull-ups, burpees, loaded carries, tug-of-war as I couldn't think of anything else and finally the bleep test. As these exercises didn't exist or weren't invented yet I had to teach a few of my soldiers them in order for them to instruct the recruits on how to do them.

Only having the top 20 eligible to join my personal guard is a lie. I thought that it was a good measure to encourage people to not quit when they are on their last few stations. "Cerion" Monty said my name as he came back from informing the administrators of what to do, "What should we do when they have finished documenting the experienced fighters?" He asked me, "Have them do a few laps of jogging around the field, then split them up into groups and place them on stations once the others have done a full circuit." I tell him, before heading off to observe the bleep test station.

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I'd always hated the bleep test, I don't know why but it is clear to see that I'm not the only one. It was in the later stages where they had to run to meet each end, the drummer beside me was hitting his drum just slightly faster after each run. Already the number of runners were shortened and the rest were sitting at the sides catching their breath, the census takers (who I really need to come up with another name for) had the right to take people out and force them to stop for their own health, though only in the more extreme cases.

"Fuck me, 'ow are we meant to compete against that." I hear one of the men resting at the side mutter. You would of had to have been dim-witted to not know who he was talking about. "He's like the Mountain." Another said, "Could be his son for all we know." Someone scoffs behind them "Don't be fucking stupid, the Mountain will be celebrating his 20th nameday this year."

The recipient of their attention was still running and by the looks of it, he was not struggling at all. The first thing you notice about him would be his height. I had seen the Mountain once when he visited Casterly Rock and in comparison to his nearly 8ft tall stature, this person was just shy of 7ft. Where Clegane was thick and mostly muscle, this person was lean and thin and resembled more of a tree than anything.

"Who's he." I ask the census taker to my right. "His name is Orton, my Lord. apparently he doesn't know his birthday but its safe to say he's a man grown, he also works as a shipwright in Lannisport as well." he replies. The drums stop, turning both of our attentions back to the test. There stood Orton by himself, hands on his knees and breathing heavily, he must've outlasted the others and won.

"Well done Orton." The census taker said, "Go sit down and have a break, it would seem that the other group aren't finished doing their loaded carries yet." at that he nods his head and goes to sit down near the rest of the group. I got a better look at him when he stood up at full height. He possessed almost plain looks, dark brown hair and hooded eyes of the same colour, skin that has been coloured to a deep orange from time under the sun as well as sharp features, whether natural or from a lack of nutrition.

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"How are we looking?" I ask Monty, he was going through all of the ledgers from the census takers ang looking over the information they had gathered. "Good." Monty replied, "Overall it would seem that the inexperienced participants did better than the experienced ones, which is surprising."

"Probably because the inexperienced people were more motivated, a lot of them are poor and live in the slums of Lannisport. They have a better incentive to succeed as they'll have a better quality of life if they do." I tell him. The exercise stations were a good idea and were easy to use. Most foot soldiers in Westeros never had any formal training, only the experience and lessons they would learn on a battlefield. That's why the Free Companies in Essos were fearsome, a constant force that fights for a living, especially the Golden Company, there's a reason they managed to kill so many during the War of the Ninepenny Kings.

Monty and I sort through the list of potential candidates. The administrators had not only done as I had asked but also mentioned any details they noticed about the persons themselves, giving us a good idea on their personalities and general behaviour. The potential recruits were sitting around the field in their same groups, munching on bread and cold meat whilst having a sip of the water we provided for them. Most of these people gave up a hard day of work to be here, giving them a meal is the least I could do.

I order a few of my guards to tell everyone to line up again, still in their groups. I climbed atop one of the carts that brought in the food and turned my direction towards the groups. Opening the list of people Monty and I agreed on, I began to read out loud, "I AM ABOUT TO READ OUT THE NAMES OF THOSE THAT HAVE PASSED. IF YOU HAVE PASSED THEN STAY, IF YOUR NAME ISN'T CALLED OUT THEN YOU HAVE NOT PASSED AND YOU WILL LEAVE. FROM GROUP 1: WALDON, JOFF, BEN..."