Chapter 15 Winterfell

274 first month 

The night was dark as we moved through the forest towards Tumbledow Tower, accompanied by my guards and the giant leader. I couldn't help but think about how fruitful this excursion had been.

Eddard Stark

Level 95 > 69

No Title

Age: 10 years

Skills

Language:

Common / Advanced/

Old Tongue / Expert/

Valyrian / Advanced/

Politics:/ Intermediate/

Medicine: /Advanced/

Smithing: /Adept/

Warfare: /Advanced/

Administration: /Advanced/

Magic

Warg: /Advanced/

Runes: /Advanced/

Greenseer: Intermediate

Devour: /Advanced/

Beast Tamer:

Horse: /Advanced/

Dog: /Advanced/

Direwolf: /Advanced/

Weapons

Dagger / Advanced / EQUIPPED

One-handed Sword / Advanced / EQUIPPED

Two-handed Sword / Intermediate/

Bow / Intermediate/

Spear / Intermediate/

Axe / Advanced

Shield / Advanced

Morningstar / Intermediate

Special

Dual Wielding / Advanced

Mounted Archery / Intermediate

Not only did I level up, but I also discovered that there is a level beyond Expert, providing a total of 10 additional levels. I suppose it's the highest rank. I also found out that my Warg is always active, whether I'm with my horse or my direwolf. Besides my statistics, something important...

I discovered there were about 500 giants, mostly adults, in the castle. It was protected by runes that isolated all noise from the outside world, but some of them seemed to have deteriorated over time, allowing noises and animals to be heard when approaching.

Due to these protections and limited space, the population had been reduced to just that number. The giants could control their birth rate, and although they were long-lived, they grew rapidly to adulthood. The reason they weren't thousands was due to lack of space. If all went well, we could have triple the number of giants in a few years, but for that, I would need to talk to Father.

I really want to take them to Moat Cailin, but with Aerys still in the south, I don't want to attract attention so soon. For now, I extended the protection runes a few more kilometers to give them space within the forest. Part of the order will be tasked with ensuring rumors don't spread.

Lastly, it turns out the giants also had a war stash similar to those in the lands of the Karstarks and Umbers, so now I have too much gold, weapons, and three catapults.

Upon arriving at Tumbledow Tower, I noticed the others had not yet arrived. We set up camp, and Lord Mager remained hidden inside the tower until we could speak with my father.

That same night, we spotted a group of riders with Stark banners in the distance.

"Welcome, Father! I hope the journey went well."

"Thank you, son. It seems your excursions have been quite productive," he replied, observing the loaded carts at the center of the camp.

"More than you think, Father. If you'd like, accompany me to the tower."

"Of course, son. Lead the way."

"Brandon, come with us."

"Before we enter, Father, I must warn you not to be alarmed or attack."

"Of course, son, though I'm not sure what you mean."

Upon entering the tower, we saw a table in the center of a room illuminated by light filtering through the collapsed roof. At the back, an elderly giant was surrounded by four playful direwolf pups.

"What in the world?" Father and Brandon exclaimed in unison.

"Father, allow me to introduce Lord Mager, leader of the giants of Wolfswood."

"What in the world?" they repeated incredulously.

The giant and I chuckled.

After a few minutes, my father calmed down and spoke:

"Good afternoon, Lord Mager. I am Rickard Stark, lord of these lands."

"Good afternoon, King Stark. I am Mager, leader of the tribe and servant of the Starks."

"I don't recall the Starks having giant bannermen, my lord," my father remarked.

"Hahaha, King Stark, all giants who still take pride in being giants are servants of the Starks, as we always have been. I swear it by the gods of the trees."

"Very well, Ned. Explain," my father requested.

"Father, you see..." I began recounting my encounter with Blackwood Fortress and the giants.

"I see. Thank you for accompanying my son, Leader Mager. Now, what's next?"

"Well, Father, I found even more gifts and treasures. Two hundred fifty thousand gold dragons in ingots and leather armor for another two thousand men, along with this," I said while whistling.

Four small creatures the size of a Cocker Spaniel approached rapidly, and as they nibbled at my boots, I explained,

"Here, father, are 4 Direwolves, one for each of your children. The white one is mine, named Ghost."

"Direwolves in the South, along with a giant tribe—I must be dreaming."

"Wow, Ned, which one is mine? Give it to me!"

"Calm down, Young Lord. Direwolves are not objects to be given away or chosen; they are living magic bound to your house," the giant explained.

"...Which means, Brandon, that the wolf chooses you. Come, get closer to them."

"Now, close your eyes and try to call them in your mind. You'll feel a connection with one of them, like a tug of hair. Once you feel it, you'll know which wolf is yours."

Brandon followed my instructions, petting the puppies. Suddenly, the black wolf jumped into his lap, trying to lick his face.

"Wow, what was that? It felt like we connected or something."

"That, young lord, was the magic of your lineage reacting," the giant explained again.

"Magic?" my father asked.

"Hahaha, come on, father, you've seen me find giants, and you've heard songs all your life. Are you telling me you don't believe in magic?"

"I suppose coffee is for your brothers," he said ignored my question and looking at the puppies nostalgically.

"Of course, father, though if you want, you can try to steal them. "Stark wouldn't want a direwolf."

For a moment, his look changed from surprise to irritation. "Hahaha, no, son, you're right. Who wouldn't want a wolf? But it seems I'll be the last of the Starks to not have one, so I'll settle for being a proud father while Benjen and Lyanna have them."

"Very well, father. One last offer—are you sure?"

"Hahaha, your mother would kill me. You can say I already have my own Direwolf at home."

"Hahaha x 4."

"Very well, father. Setting aside the matter of magic, what do you plan to do with the gold? You already have more than enough for all the projects and could still leave some aside."

"Regarding that, father, do you think I could buy land here in the North?"

"For that amount, what land are you looking for? I'll give it to you."

"Hmm, I don't think it'll be that easy."

"Do you think it's possible to negotiate with the Night's Watch to return the land to the North?"

"I'm sorry, Ned, I don't think it's possible. It was land ceded by order of the king; I don't think we could buy it back. Besides, if it's bought in your name, you'd have almost half the North under your power. Even if it were possible, you'd need more than what you currently have."

"I suspected as much, but it doesn't hurt to ask. Seems like I'll have to look for another opportunity."

"Very well, father. Please expedite the fleet plans, buy ships from Braavos if necessary, and request a feasibility study from Braavos on the Neck canal."

"Very well, Ned. Alongside the construction of Karstark's and Sea Dragon Point's ports, maybe in a year, we'll have the fleets ready."

"Very well, father. We need to start arming the men for the Skagos campaign."

After that discussion, we retired to rest. Tomorrow, we would depart for Winterfell, then to Torrhen's Square.

Returning to Winterfell was strange, almost as if I had been away for years. Everything was the same in the castle—the same servants, the same guards. After spending time in other castles, I realized that Winterfell was warm not just because it was my home, but because the hot water pipes running through the castle kept it warm without needing to light a fireplace or anything like that.

Mother welcomed us with a lavish party. I'd like to think it was for her children, but I believe the presence of almost all Northern heirs had something to do with it. Speaking of heirs, our group was joined by Jorah Mormont, a lively 17-year-old, and Galbart Glover, a 12-year-old. I thought Ethen would join, but turns out he's only 5 years old.

My siblings have grown quite a bit, always moving from one place to another. It's only been a few months since I last saw them, so I won't comment on how much they've grown.

Lyanna is 5 years old, and Benjen is 4. When they heard about the direwolves, they immediately wanted their own. They're too young to teach Warging, so I could only give them pendants with protection runes to keep them safe. It seems I'll stay for a while to teach them a little. I also need to stay for at least a month to catch up on some new business, write letters to the Iron Bank, and monitor the orphanages, though the latter isn't necessary. Several children have reached the age to seek work, so I'll place them with artisans, and some will join my spy network in the South.

But not everything was frozen; what had changed the most in these few months was Wintertown. It had expanded at least three times its size. Most of the houses were made of cement and stone, the streets were wide, and the surrounding fields were ready to be harvested—the most abundant harvest in centuries, I was told. Taxes this season seemed to have doubled. The city was temporarily filled with workers from all over the North, many of them digging a road heading south towards Cerwyn Castle. I plan to use Roman construction methods for the roads, although mine will be wider.

A few days later, a rider entered almost falling into Winterfell's courtyard.

"Helman Tallhart, what brings you here so early?" my father asked.

"Trouble, my lord." As I approached with my escort to collect them, we were attacked near the Wolf Wood by bandits, at least a hundred, from what I could see. We were ambushed and couldn't react in time.

"Very well, Helman. Rest, tomorrow we will go in search of the bandits," my father said, indicating Bran and me to accompany him.

"Boys, what do you think? According to what Ned tells me, there shouldn't be such a large group of bandits in the forest," my father commented once we entered his solar.

"There are two options, father. First, that my hunting of bandits led them to join forces."

"Hmm, I don't think so, Ned. If they joined to avoid annihilation, they wouldn't have attacked a party with a noble banner. You know they would become a target."

"That's what I thought."

"So, the second option is that someone is trying to get us into trouble. The question is, who? Sending so many bandits this far north requires a lot of gold, which narrows our options."

"Father, how is the envoy's mission in King's Landing going?"

"From what I'm told, he still hasn't reached King's Landing, so I don't think the trouble is coming from the south."

"Regardless, whether they're resistance groups or someone trying to cause trouble, we must annihilate them."

Early the next day, my father gathered the castle troops: 100 Stark guards plus our 50 personal men, enough to annihilate nearly 200 bandits without losses, provided we aren't ambushed. The heirs will also join us. It seems that after the fight, Brandon will continue his journey north to Torrhen's Square, while I will return with my father, who will need help with the new port and meeting with the Iron Bank envoy. I'll see Brandon in about three months with the Dustins, enough time to teach Lyanna and Benjen how to care for their wolves.

We departed immediately, all mounted on horseback. Personally, I instructed Arwen to send a Warg with me to explore the area. I also wrote to Leader Mager to block the forest routes. They didn't need to fight, just cause small collapses in the forest so the bandits couldn't hide.

Watching my father lead the men was impressive. While I had seen my mother lead in battle before, my father's work during the march and ensuring supplies were masterful. The journey, which should have taken longer due to the large number of troops, was done at messenger-horse speed. I must admit, having 50 skilled individuals setting up and dismantling secure camps each night helped prevent the men from exhausting themselves on night watches searching for an ambush.

"Father, the scout informs me the bandit camp is half an hour from here, in a clearing on a hillside. But apparently, they aren't just 100 bandits; there are about 250 armed individuals. Now I'm sure they're not just ordinary bandits."

"Damn it, Brandon, send a rider to Torrhen's Square. Tell them to send troops; we'll need at least another 100 men if we want to take their camp."

"Father, mobilization will take at least a week. We don't have enough personnel or rations to summon them," Brandon said, a little concerned.

"I don't think we'll need them," I commented as I looked at the map.

"Do you have any ideas, Ned?"

"Yes, father, although it's risky. We could try to lure them out by pretending we still believe they are only 100 people or simple bandits. We could make them come to us, but we'll need a convincing decoy."

The plan began while our 100 men hid. The 50 men from our personal guard, now known as the Wolf Riders, searched for bandit patrols on nearby roads.

After a few hours, we managed to locate 10 enemy scouts. My intention was not to capture them, but to annihilate them as quickly as possible, sparing only one from each group. Throughout the night, we did the same with two other groups, always ensuring to let one escape badly injured.

"All right, men, rest for a few hours. A brutal battle awaits us at dawn, so sleep and recover."

Bandit Camp

Tyos Stone's perspective

"Damn it, why do I have to be in these frozen lands playing at being a bandit? The worst part is that due to the sparse population of the area, I haven't been able to enjoy plunder like in a war. But orders are orders... The good thing is that after a few days, I can take my men and escape," I thought as I prepared to sleep.

"Boss."

"What's happening now, bastard? It's midnight."

"Boss, some scout groups were attacked. Only a few survivors managed to escape."

"Damn it," I said as I headed towards the large house in the center of the camp. "All right, which groups did they come from, bastards? How many riders are pursuing them?"

"Boss, the three of us are from different groups. We were ambushed by about 50 guards, all armed."

"And the banners? Where did they come from?"

"Starks, my lord. They were led by two youths."

"Are you telling me that three groups of 10 people were ambushed by 50 armed knights without casualties on their side, and yet one from each group managed to escape unscathed?"

"My lord, we were lucky. None of us are unscathed. I don't think we can fight back, but..."

Before he finished his sentence, I cut off his head with my sword.

"Damn fools, they didn't escape; they were let go. Joa, prepare the troops. These damn Starks let them go to locate the camp."

"Of course, boss. How many should I gather?"

"Most seem to believe we're only 100 strong, and with the annihilation of 3 groups, they expect a battle of 50 against 70. So, we'll crush them with numbers. Leave only 20 guards at the camp. Gather the rest; we'll head out to confront them. I want to see their faces when we outnumber them four times over."

End of perspective

It was dawn as we approached the supposed bandit camp. We were all ready and in formation. According to Helman, those damn bandits attack from the flanks with a swift charge, so we were alert to the sides.

Just as we passed by the base of a small hill, my scout informed me that there were riders on top, ready to ambush us from the right. At that moment, a thunderous noise descended towards us.

"Men, dismount. Form up; take your shields and spears. Fire the fire arrows!"

From what we knew, most of the bandits did not have horses. With a slope in their favor, trying to stop the charge head-on would have put us in trouble. So, I planned for the double phalanx of 40 men to form a sloping line. Gravity would ensure they couldn't collide head-on with the formation; they would have to continue downhill. At the tip were Duncan and I, as we would bear the brunt of the attack. I positioned 8 archers near the tip, behind the defenses, to prevent them from surrounding us on the other side of the formation. Bran would lead from behind, either depending on the situation or reinforcing the gap with the remaining 5 men.

In any case, we only had to hold out for a few moments. My father would encircle them from the forest. And so, the battle began.

Luckily, the enemies attacked near the center of the formation instead of filling the hill with a long line. I suppose when you have the advantage in numbers and height, you tend to charge in a tight group. Still, we had to adjust slightly to get into position.

In the initial clash, we had the advantage. The men, knowing the plan, dug a broad and even point of support with their shovels. The collision was brutal, but we were better: stronger, better nourished, better armed.

We threw the spears at the front line to trip them up. Besides, we didn't need the reach advantage; the spears would only get stuck. Instead, we made them collide with our shields and swords. Although riskier, it was more fluid.

Duncan covered only the flank of the men. I aimed to prevent them from surrounding us, so I moved forward a bit.

After throwing my spear, I took my shield and axe. The first man crashed into my shield, but instead of stopping him, I ducked, causing him to roll over me. I easily lifted him with my shield and finished him off as he rolled. In the second collision, a bandit's outstretched spear lost balance. I leaned my shield to the left, causing him to lose balance and meet his end. I continued fighting with others, gradually stepping back towards Duncan.

At some point, my shield broke. I took the opportunity to throw it at an enemy's feet while I drew my dagger with my left hand. My axe got stuck in a man's chest, so after letting go of it, I grabbed a sword from a corpse.

The dance continued; adrenaline took over me. I felt faster, stronger. If I lost a weapon, I picked up another from a corpse. If I didn't have time, I threw some of my daggers at the necks of enemies. If I ran out of weapons, I applied a Judo throw to make them roll downhill. I kept going and going.

Suddenly, I heard a voice.

"Eddard Stark, son of Lyarra, that's enough!"

I turned towards the voice, ready to throw a punch, only to be knocked down. I stood up disoriented, looking for any weapon around me. Then I saw them: many people in gray armor surrounding me.

They weren't enemies; they were Stark riders. Then I recognized the voice: it was my father. We had endured; we had won.

______________________

Diary of Brandon Stark The Builder.

During a journey south, I earned a new nickname. It all began with a secret excursion upon returning from beyond the Wall. On this journey, I encountered a southern kingdom where its kings possessed the magic of the Children of the Forest. It was said they could make plants grow simply by stepping on the ground. The king recognized me and welcomed me, even considering me as his son. I thought I had found a friend in the south.

However, the truth about their magic and the atrocities they committed, and planned to continue, came to light. It turned out their magic was not for giving life but for death. Their fields thrived on sacrifices of giants and Children of the Forest. They used their blood to nourish the land, and that year they planned a massacre of the last Children of the Forest living near the Blue Lake. The massacre I witnessed enraged me. I fought, not against the children, but against the men. I slaughtered them, and the lake water turned red with so much blood, enveloped in a fury that consumed me. I didn't stop until I collapsed from exhaustion. My father call "Blood of the Wolf," a fervor for battle akin to the Berserkers of the Bear Islands, but it doesn't drive us to madness; it focuses us, makes us lethal, faster, although it's dangerous, as we could lose ourselves.

After regaining consciousness, I led the giants and Children of the Forest back north. Some stayed on the Isle of Faces; those lands were no longer suitable for them. This land, always green, was cursed, just like its kings.

They call me Brandon of the Bloody Blade, a title I consider futile, like the Builder.

________________________________________

Hello guys, sorry for the delay in the update. Without my computer, I feel a bit useless, and part of my work for these chapters was left at my apartment, a 3-hour journey away, so it's somewhat difficult. Anyway, it's been a challenging week.

Here's the chapter, enjoy it.

By the way, I have a side fic. Some may have already noticed. It has nothing to do with the genre; it's just something to relax with.

Mission accomplished Jejnsjxncbcj Please don't kick me jajaja xD 

Lastly, I've created a Ko-fi in case anyone wants to buy me a coffee sometime.

https://ko-fi.com/d_vera

 Sorry for the editing errors; my phone drives me crazy, and GPT does what it can., but do comment on them so I know.