Chapter 3: Prologue: Part 3

It was a bad day all around. The Vale turned out to be quite full, both with peasants and attentive lords. I was able to pick up 4 younger cattle for a good price, and they seem to be a different breed than those in King's Landing. The locals don't have them named, so I've taken to calling them Highland Cows. Creative, I know. That's about all the good news. I was travelling along the northern coast of the Vale, keeping away from the mountains and any villages, but as I got closer to the Riverlands, the amount of people increased. And with those people, bandits.

When it came down to it, I was lucky I suppose. I had left my horse, cattle, and my two new dogs harnessed in the woods, while I went off to hunt. I had success in bringing down a deer, the first time I had in almost a week, so I was in a good mood. I had yet to unstring my bow, as I kept it slung over my shoulder, so I could drag the deer back to camp. However, as I neared, I could hear a course laugh and some talking. I dropped the dear, and grabbed an arrow, one of the few I had remaining. And did my best to sneak up to camp, and when I finally was able to see the clearing, my heart sank. I saw two men going through my wagon, and both had swords. One of them even had a few bits of armor.

Now by this time, I was a bit hardened against death. Much more so than I had been on Earth, because King's Landing was a brutal place. However, I had never actually killed anyone myself. I was terrified. I knew that these men were like to take everything I had and would probably stab me while they were at it. I knew that. But I still had these thoughts, these doubts, should I kill these men? Did I have the right? Surely prison would be good enough? Even as I though these things, I knew they were foolish, and that I needed to act.

The one with armor had is back to me, standing on the ground in front of the wagon, while the other was standing on top holding my prototype still. I laid out a few arrows on the ground in front of me so I could fire quickly. I had never tried to rapidly fire before, but with all the use that I had been getting out of my bow the past few months, I prayed my skill would see me through. I grabbed my first arrow, and drew back and aimed for the man on the ground. His back was unarmored, and my aim was true. He went down with a strangled scream as I picked up my second arrow. The man on top turned around to see his partner falling, and by the time he saw me, I was drawing back the arrow. With a quick jump he dove over the side of the wagon, but his foot caught on the side and he went sprawling to the ground. My arrow missed, but I quickly drew another and fired it. It caught the second man in the throat, and he died on the ground.

I drew my fourth arrow and cautiously approached the first man. I could see his hand trying to move, but he was otherwise motionless. As I walked around him, I could see him looking at me. He was in great pain, but quickly dying. It looked like my arrow must have hit his spine, because though he could move his mouth and hand, nothing else seemed to move. Blood was dripping out of his mouth, and he was making a crying noise from his throat. Tears ran down his face, I almost froze at the sight, and was drawn in by his pain. Instead I drew my knife and gave him what mercy I could offer. I slowly stood up and looked around when I noticed that everything seemed strangely quiet. I looked over to my animals, and saw the two dogs seemed to be barking.

In a rush, my senses came back to me and I could hear the barking. I fell to my knees and vomited. My head felt like someone stuffed it full of cotton, but my nerves felt on fire. I couldn't make sense of it. I know not how long I laid there. Eventually I noticed, the dogs had gone quiet and darkness started to fall. I forced myself to stand, and move on. I wouldn't let this beat me, I had won. I had killed, and I had earned my place in this world. I would not rollover for people like this, I would carve out a place for myself. Welcome to Westeros.