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Game of Thrones : Paladin of Old Gods (Draft)

A boy dies as a result of friction between a demon and an angel. He will have to be compensated and it will be his lawyer who will fight for him to get what he wants most... The plot, the world, the characters of ASOIAF belong only to its owner. All references to Wizard of the coast and all related owners of D&D and the world of Forgotten Realms belong to them. Changes to the plot and the inclusion of other characters, are of my own invention. This Fanfiction was not written with the intent to create profit but based on creativity and fun. The cover Belong to me. This is just a draft (Although incredible) created by illustrator and artist rushiyt. If you'd like to support my work, here's the link to my Ko-Fy donation page: https://ko-fi.com/duncanrandargotpaladin

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197 Chs

Mountain & Dam

POV: The Watcher

Among the noble stands of the Eastern Confederacy.

Seconds after help arrived in favour of the Lion...

--------

'Tsz...! I'll be damned, and my stupidity be damned!' Zick towered, standing alone among the various nobles of the East, still seated, intent on enjoying a great spectacle. Unaware of what was taking place in the dark shadows of the world.

Only three individuals among the dozens of spectators knew who he was and what role he played. To all the other noble lords of important foreign cities, Zick was nothing more than an advisor/master of arms of some elevation who had somehow been fortunate enough to merit a prized seat in the front ranks next to the noble Sorcerer of the East.

The master's eyes were crimson red and were beginning to burn like flaming balls. Tiny shoots of red tears started running down his nose and slowly trickled down his cheeks.

{"You are overexerting your skills, my friend...You will consume what little is left in your lake of vitality more quickly if you continue to create leaks in the dam."} Chai Duq remained sitting there with his usual regal and impassive bearing. As if the catastrophic events that were looming did not touch him. But Zick knew the King in The Yellow well--the Sorcerer was having a blast, enjoying the events as if they were the event of the century.

{"I know my limits better than anyone, Chai. If you're not going to help me in this mess, at the very least, shut up and be quiet as a mountain."} Grunted the Watcher in an irritated tone in the ancient language of Dawn.

{"I am already helping."} Chai Duq.

{"And how, pray to tell?"} Zick asked without breaking the visual connection with Syggha.

{"I do not feel that I prevented Ser Braitwur from giving your pupil a helping hand. And it was more than my right to do so if I am correct. I warned you that I would find a way to teach that brat a lesson in humility. And ordering my sworn Arcane Shield to interrupt if not 'thwart' the Golden Lion's rescue attempt would be a fitting punishment--don't you think, Guardian of Love?"} The King in the Yellow.

{"The agreements were that your swords would watch Duncan's back in this competition! Are you going back on your word, 'My Friend'?"} The Watcher.

{"I promised that Ser Tristan, Ser Guruklak and Ser Braitwur would keep the pesky bugbears of Oldtown and Braavos in check, not that he had his back...And it sure looks to me like your pupil has a problem with the noble Lannister royal family..."} Zick could not see the counterpart. Still, he would have bet every asset in his possession that, at that moment, the slimy double-crossing Sorcerer was flashing a thirty-two-tooth smile.

{"Cut to the chase and tell me what you want for 'contribution' from the noble Confederation of Wizards."} Ser Jon had just surrendered by dragging the battered Greysteel out of the arena. Two other more than worthy members of the Arcane Shields could come to the rescue or 'stand in the way' of Duncan and Syggha.

Time was running out...Chai Duq had the upper hand.

{"... One thousand elite units trained by Eagle Claw and Ghost Blade. Two hundred among them shall be worthy of the Magic Knighthood, and I want them floured and baked by the next lunar eclipse."} Promulgated the Monarch of Shamelessness and Greed.

{"Two hundred Knights?! Tsz...! You are a poisonous snake! The next eclipse is in less than three years!"} Spat Zick angrily.

Time was not the biggest problem, nor was it the favour he should have called in from his former comrades-in-arms; what the poor man feared most was Zishua... The old woman would not have forgiven him so easily for pulling two of the nine most dangerous cards out of the deck so lightly, nor for granting so cheaply and without limitation a thousand very dangerous weapons to a mad warmonger.

{"Ehehe! I am a Phoenix, not a common reptile. And the demands of the noblest and proudest creature among the animal kingdoms are not over ..."} Chai Duq.

{"What more do you want?!"} Zick could not observe the cunning blackmailer behind him. The direction of his gaze had to remain sharply focused on the confrontation.

{"The Confederation and the Fourth Organization will not have to shell out a single piece of copper for the battalion. Magic stones, enchantments, provisions, salaries, horses and transportation, healing herbs, elixirs, equipment, enchanted equipment 'And'...the fee for the services of the masters of arms. Any expense or cost related to that unit from its formation to future employment must be paid solely and exclusively by House Tallhart. And I don't need to tell you that the quality standards of these warriors will have to live up to the good name of Carcosa...Deal?"} The smiling sorcerer.

Phantom Blade was undoubtedly the most demanding of the elements. The avarice of Josua of Jhala was nothing short of 'Amateur' compared to the professional in the field. House Tallhart was about to take a more than decent financial hit. With the funds spent, Torrhen's Square could have forged and maintained roughly five or six thousand units of Frost Blades...

And all this just to keep the Arcane Shields from acting as turncoats in the little time they had left.

Zick did not care about money or material possessions but to force other people to whom such resources gave value, and at such a delicate moment in which a life he had put in jeopardy depended on such an arrangement... The Watcher was noticeably angry with his 'Old Sorcerer Friend'.

'When we come to the Eye of the Gods, and you transact your swinish business with my pupil, I shall spur the Green Demon so that he may also slip off that silken rag between your buttocks, Rascal!' It was wiser not to pull too hard. Zick did not have the means or the will to call Chai's bluff.

Lion Boy was on his last legs, and for the next move, The Watcher needed every ounce of concentration at his disposal.

{"Deal."} As soon as the deal was sealed, The King Sorcerer stood up and reached the side of his longtime companion.

{"Good... In my magnanimity, I have just ordered Ser Tristan and Ser Guruklak to prevent any more 'troublemakers' from getting in the way of the fun."}

{"There is nothing funny about it."} Replicated the Watcher.

*Snap* The Sorcerer activated a sound interference bubble with a simple snap of his fingers. Chai felt the need for additional protection besides a lost tongue for what would be uttered.

{"Ahahah! There is, instead! We are witnessing a legendary event, My Friend! A Bearer in golden locks is awakening and under the best eyes of Oldtown to boot! Ahahah...! If it is indeed the will of the supreme, powerful and feared The Watcher to continue meddling in the nefarious fate that will inevitably await Lan's Heir, this can only mean one possible future scenario for us all..."}

For years now, Zick had been living sleepless nights, with the seed of doubt that, by supporting Duncan to the end, he could have brought the Known World to a cataclysm never before witnessed...and instead, he had been one. The decisive ounce that would bring death and destruction to all continents had been laid on the scales of his own hand.

'He is right...I am to blame. This disaster could have been avoided. If only I had been more careful, less impatient... I could have stopped that boy. Told him he had nothing more to prove. But instead I...! Tsz!' the Guardian of Love cursed himself, sinking his nails into his palms until he dug down to that fragile, useless flesh.

Chai Duq took his time to utter the longed-for last word...

{"War."}

*****

End POV.

-----

POV: Duncan

Great Scrum

Seconds before a nefarious word was spoken...

------

The situation was critical, to say the least! The magic knight grappled with two opponents, one more challenging and tenacious than a boar. Syggha was again bearing all the pressure of the Lion Berseker alone, and I was caught by Westeros's most valiant and skilled swordsman.

*Clang!*,*Sting!*, *Scriiing!* steel clashed against steel with no concrete result.

'Tsz...! It will take too long to analyze and translate this sword style. It is not an opponent I can defeat in less than a minute. Nor do I have time to make Ser Barristan desist from his intentions...! Fuck! FUUCK! FUUCK!!!' I cringed at the adverse fate.

"Just before, I saw you do better." Barristan charged. The smooth, firm swings, the footwork, the perfectly poised posture, the absence of openings... Every movement of that man with a sword was accompanied by a metallic humming in the wind that shouted the word "Outstanding!"

I parried and deflected two lateral blows in succession and then attempted a disarm from below, which Barristan anticipated, repelled and returned with a single swing.

"Are you holding back for fear of hurting an old man, boy!" The next few swings were more aggressive and fast but just as charged with precision and fluidity. I attempted a counteroffensive, but in my distraction, I did not notice that the spell time [Bless] ended--a minute had already passed.

'No!' Barristan did not miss the opportunity *Clang!*, *Stuff...* and disarmed my left sword.

{"DUNCAN!!! Calm down and return to the present! Hold your breath, regularize your flow, observe and find the crack!"} My performance was so miserable and confusing that it forced the master to divert some of Syggha's needed concentration on me.

'I have no time for this, master! Time is my enemy!", "Do you even dare to turn your gaze elsewhere?" The perfect storm nicknamed 'The Bold' aimed and descended on every breach of my defence.

Temple, shoulder blade and rib crashed and vibrated--luckily for me, I was still wearing the best armour the North had seen in the last millennium. The damage was negligible.

Then, a slight but penetrating twinge pierced my brain. As if a red-hot needle had surgically pierced my skull... I knew instantly what and who was responsible. On hundreds of occasions, the Watcher tested my mental stamina by probing my defences, but never before did Zick dare to be so invasive and brutal.

{"Time is the key! Make Time, your ally! Use every form of Time! That's the crack in the egg, boy!"}

'What the heck does that m... You're right! Time is the key!' the confusion dissipated in the blink of an eye.

The master did not himself have the answer to my dilemma. Still, The Watcher had searched for it and found it among the hundreds of possibilities enclosed in my mind, directing me subconsciously to the solution I was most confident about but had not yet focused on.

Now I knew what had to be done. Extreme evils required dirty, unfair but nevertheless effective remedies.

William was too distant and busy, but-"SER PETER!!!" I shouted with every ounce of breath as I prepared to repel Barristan's third pressing assault.

"My lord!" Ser Peter Atreides, the Knight of Beauty loyal to me, answered the call from over seventy feet away while still intent on carrying out my previous orders-namely, [Watching Ser Barristan Selmy's back.]

"Restrain Barristan with every means at your disposal! Attack him from behind!" If I did not have enough Time, I would have to use the Time of others.

"B-but...! M-my Lord! I'm a Knig-" "DO IT!!! Cripple the Old Man or stab him in the throat if you must! No matter!" After kicking and fending off his opponent from the Stormlands, Peter grasped the message and charged with a drawn sword, screaming at the honourable and respected member of the Kingsguard...

On the other hand, the very said member was caught off guard with a stunned and visually disgusted face and, for the first Time since the beginning of the confrontation, Barristan slightly lowered his guard, turning for a moment behind himself.

It was one thing to face several enemies at a time, but deliberately striking a knight in the back in the middle of a duel was a mean, despicable act worthy of disqualification in a tournament... Peter would soon join the circle of 'Future Disqualifiers' along with myself and Ser Braitwur (I finally remembered the name).

'I must use your Time too! Give me the necessary strength!"}, I opened the cage and loosened the chains almost completely {"Uh, mh, mh...! It's about Time!"} An abominable rush of energy and murderous fury pervaded me to the core. I could maintain only the tight control necessary to keep from going mad. It was dangerous. I could last ten or fifteen seconds at most before completely losing my mind.

"Uuhaarh!" I fiercely assaulted the 50-year-old knight with all my increased strength and speed.

*Clangh!*,*Sdeeng!*,*Stiing!*, *Studh!* "Urgh!" a mighty slash entered the man's side. Barristan was forced back in the direction of the imminent new incoming threat. I gave the man no respite. I leapt for a devastating double kick to the lacquered steel breastplate, sending the man in armour flying nearly ten feet backward.

'Seven seconds...urgh...six.' I leapt and sprinted toward Jaime's direction, pumping as much energy as possible from every muscle fibre. Not even Usain Bolt (A famous athlete in my world) doped to the bone with a fire behind him could have matched my sprint.

'Four... three...' Zick and Syggha had already worked to attract the Lion in my direction and waited patiently and with a thousand sacrifices for the move that would save Jaime on the way. The duo acted with pinpoint synchronicity. The Red Knight forced the crazed beast to turn its back on me.

The sword had already slipped to the ground. I had only my hands, all I needed.

I tackled the Lion Berserker and clasped my arms tightly around his arms and pelvis. The hands were in no way to come off Jaime's body for as long as it took to activate:

[Lay of Hands!] As I used the power granted to me by the heavens, a warm, joyful, patient but very petulant voice very familiar to me recurred in my mind, belly and heart:

'If you can't reach the Mountain, force the Mountain to come to you... If the Dam is in danger of giving way and depriving the village of water, don't use what little time you have left to collect as much water as you can but invest it in trying to dam the Dam and gain much more time.'

"Rooar!!" I repeated the verses of Seraphinus inside me like a mantra as I countered with all my might the mighty force of the Roaring Lion seeking freedom from its grip.

My arms burned like hot coals, and the pain receptors cried for mercy. 'I can't give in!!! Not now! NOT NOW!!!'

I had to endure two more seconds dilated to the limit of the relativity of time before Lay of Hands activated and curbed Jaime's deadly wounds to win more time.

"UAAAARGHH!!!"...finally, tepid green glows pervaded Jaime's body. All the reserve of healing power in my possession was exhausted. There was no time for victory chants. My life was in danger. I was forced to restrict the limitations of my inner demon, and I had a very dangerous beast, newly invigorated and healed, less than an inch away, with no strength left to counter it.

I let go and rolled away. The Lion's claw grabbed me by the foot with the intent to let his prey slip away... *Swwoosh!*"Uaargh!" fortunately for me, the Watcher and Syggha granted me a retreat.

I scrambled back to my feet and eyed the stands first.

{"Well done, my boy! You just gave Ser Jaime at least five more minutes."} I rejoiced inwardly-there was still hope.

I ogled the situation Ser Braitwur had stunned Ser Addam but was still struggling with Ser Lyle.

Ser Peter was engaged in a no-holds-barred fight against Ser Barristan. Other surviving members of the race who were chasing an easy victory against tired and wounded opponents were being handled by William, Ser Jory Cassel and the two magic knights in the service of the Sorcerer King, forming a perimeter around our area.

"What are you doing?" The Knight of Love was retreating in the direction of Peter and Barristan.

"I leave that to you. I have my own race to win." Syggha replied, throwing me a sword that slipped from the hands of an unconscious competitor on the ground nearby.

"But..." it was a sharp-sighted figure over five hundred feet away who replied.

{"It's you and me now. It's time to break through to 13 th gate... We can do it, my boy."}

*****

End Chapter.