Chapter 8

It has been a night since I declared myself the leader of the Free folk of Hard-Home

Hard-Home was a natural deep port which was rather great. I wanted this place to be able to run without my constant help.

I flew up to the sky and threw my voice all over. "My people, You may not want to accept it, but you cannot live in isolation if you want to survive the White Walkers; we must build ports and start trading; we need to build up Defenses and build high stone towers!"

One yelled "What first... King?" "Do not call me king; I am your friend and ally, here to guide you; just call me Deavh," I responded, still throwing my voice around.

"But first, we should work on infrastructure, the stone buildings; I can speed up this process tremendously," I spoke once more.

The free folk could hear the marching of thousands of footsteps. Thousands of tool-welding short men walked down a hill onto the beach side where Hard-Home was located.

I Froze all of the inhabitants and floated them far up into the sky. The dwarves got to work as I summoned stone for them to work with. It took a few days but we got all sorts of infrastructure. Everything from fishing huts to roads was upgraded.

High curtain walls with towers every so often stretched from end to end of the crescent-shaped bay. Stairs had been dug into the Icey cliffside to allow easy access to the upper levels. There was no immediate need for a sea gate because of the rocky bay.

A large tower stood at the precipice of the cliffside. With a massive Flame roaring high.

I returned the wildings to their places and let them inflate my ego as they cheered my name. I went down to them walking on the grey stone streets as crowds of men, women, and children gathered around me.

I felt like Daenerys.

Currently, there are only a few thousand wildings. I want the entire true north's population here. I summoned a few hundred Dol Amorath shipwrights to teach the wildings how to use and build boats.

Of course, I will have to enchant the boats so the sailors survive the harsh, shivering sea. I need to leave on some business. It won't be that hard to check-in.

I opened a portal into my main realm. I walked through it and closed it. I opened another portal; this time, it was to Kingslanding.

I was in some dark back street. I transformed into an old man. My sword turned into a cane and my amour into robes, I was finally getting the hang of shape-shifting.

Walking through the shit-stained alleys, I felt disgusted. I made it onto an actual street. A few people were headed for the gates with full sacks covering them.

I asked a nearby vendor, "My old memory seems to have failed me; what year is it, my good sir?" I already had a general scope of the period because of Tormund.

"I'm too busy to help you, old man," the merchant spoke with a hint of disdain in his voice. The merchant went back to promoting his goods with his boastful voice.

I reached into my robes and pulled out a small pouch of gold, his eyes caught the shine and he spoke with a kinder tone "I believe I may be far more partial to helping you now, the year is 281 A.C" I handed it to him and he opened it and counted it with a greedy glint in his eye.

"Have a good day, sir; come to me if you ever need any more information," He spoke greedily.

"I have a need now-" The rebellion was going to start soon or already has. "-Where is Rheagar Targaryen"

"He's at the head of an army near the Trident River," the merchant finished counting the golden coins. I wanted to see this battle. Maybe change its course.

I walked back into the dark alley and made a portal to the lotr realm then to the Ford of the Trident River. I was perched up on a large hill a few miles away but my eyes, my eyes could see across this globe if I so wished. I had no problem seeing the battle.

Men under banners of Yellow banners with black and black banners with red. The Targaryen army was marching towards the Baratheon troops on the other side of the Ford.

Rheagar was marching to his death. This is some tactical retardedness. He's marching straight into the water; his troops will be caught in the mud while Robert's troops will slaughter Rheagar and his men.

I turned into a large man with pitch-black plate armor, I summoned a fell beast and mounted it.

I let my dark magic seep out of my body, a dark area enveloped my surroundings.

I used my powers to shape the clouds, turning and twisting. I whipped the reigns on my fell beast, it started flying. It let out a deathly screech before speeding up.

I flew circles around the battle which had stopped. Some men were fleeing; I screeched a blackish-purple mist escaped from my mouth as I screamed, "Dare Run From Me, Cowards!!!"

The black mist kept leaking from my mouth; it sept into the fearful men. "Old Beings Awake, beware the many-headed dragons. Leave a single head, and it will regrow then bite back," I screeched for specifically two to hear.

I looked down at the Dragon-knight, Rheagar, and the Stag, Robert. I flew down to the pair, I jumped off my stead.