~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and all rights for characters, plots and settings belong to G.R.R. Martin and FromSoftware. I have no ownership.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the edge of the wolfswood, Bran turned in his basket for one last glimpse of the castle that had been his life. Wisps of smoke still rose into the grey sky, but no more than might have risen from Winterfell's chimneys on a cold autumn afternoon.
Soot stains marked some of the arrow loops, and here and there a crack or a missing merlon could be seen in the curtain wall, but it seemed little enough from this distance. Beyond, the tops of the keeps and towers still stood as they had for hundreds of years, and it was hard to tell that the castle had been sacked and burned at all.
'The stone is strong', Bran told himself, 'the roots of the trees go deep, and under the ground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I'm not dead either'.
Brandon Stark
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
North, Winterfell
301 AC
Aerion
Before him, in the branches of the Heart Tree, was a brutal sight for many. Roose Bolton, tied by his hands to one of the branches with a rope.
The Leech Lord's lungs, pulled from his torn back, hung on either side, forming macabre wings. Most interestingly, the man was still alive, albeit barely.
Good. That was the goal. It wasn't supposed to be an easy death. No. Nor was it simply a pure act of revenge. It was something more. A symbol. And a warning to those who would face him. But also to the lords of the North.
Remember what the Starks of old did to their enemies. Remember the times when the Kings of Winter were not only respected but also inspired the fear they deserved. How they treated their enemies. What he did to Roose Bolton.
A similar fate will befall the Freys and the Lannisters, and all who refuse to kneel. The fate of a war far more important than the one for the Iron Throne rested on his shoulders.
If he were Jon Snow, the Lord Commander of the Night Watch might need as many allies as possible, and every soldier would count. He was no longer the stubborn, albeit ordinary, man he once was. Now he had the power to change something, and he intended to do so.
He watched dispassionately as the blood dripped onto the trampled earth at the foot of the tree, quickly seeping into the soil. The same thing happened with the blood that flowed down the branches of the heart tree, quickly absorbed through the bark.
Finally, footsteps sounded behind him. He was surprised that the Leech Lord's shouts hadn't attracted any guards earlier. But someone was coming.
He turned and looked in that direction, spotting one of the guards frozen in horror at the sight before him. His eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing, as if unable to utter a word.
The man's gaze finally fell on him, but before a sound could escape his throat, Aerion leaped at him, the Ornamental Straight Sword materializing in his hand, and a moment later, the guard's head rolled to the ground.
He heard the sound of more footsteps in the snow, this time more numerous. Seven more guards rushed into the Godswood, and upon seeing what had happened, they began to scream; one even reached for the horn on his belt.
He, however, reacted faster. The Academy Glintstone Staff appeared in his left hand, from which he fired a moment later, the Glintstone Arc, which decapitated the first four guards and wounded three more.
After finishing them off with his sword, he headed for the Godswood exit. He had a lot of work ahead of him, and he only hoped that Greater Will, or the other gods, wouldn't decide it was a good idea to send him back to the Lands Between.
Every available space outside the Godswood was filled with tents for soldiers who couldn't fit in the fortress's numerous buildings. Winterfell was enormous, but even it struggled to house the five thousand Bolton soldiers.
Five fucking thousand. He would slaughter them until morning. The Spirit Calling Bell appeared in his hand. He shook it once, then twice, then a third time, summoning both the Banished Knights and the Lone Wolves.
"You know what you must do. "Kill only the soldiers in northern part of castle; leave the servants alone," he ordered his spirits and then began the slaughter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He sat atop the Great Keep, watching the sun rise on the horizon. He was covered from head to toe in blood, and even after drinking Crimson Tears, his body felt like stone.
Winterfell was free; he should have felt satisfaction and joy. And he did, to some extent, but there was a certain emptiness. Liberating his home felt more like butcher's work than combat. There was no risk, no tension, no adrenaline rush.
Defeating a powerful enemy in the Lands Between was incomparably better than slaughtering thousands of weaklings. He was beginning to wonder if his short time on that shattered world had turned him into a combat maniac who needed the thrill of battle.
Even if that was the case, he couldn't change it. It was something he could control. Moreover, he had always tried to control it, so this discovery changed nothing.
What mattered was not how he felt about it, but whether he had achieved his goals. And that was the recapture of Winterfell and the extermination of the Boltons, whose blood now dripped across the castle.
His gaze fell on the golden letters shimmering at the edge of his vision. Yes. The quest from Greater Will was received on his first day back from the Lands Between.
Although he had clearly achieved some of his goals, he still needed to be officially crowned king for the quest to be completed and for him to receive his rewards, and these were no small feat.
If he managed to complete all the objectives, the reward in attributes alone was equal to 42 levels. A huge increase in power. Moreover, this Lightning Spear Incantation was of great interest to him. From what he had learned, lightning incantations were developed solely by the Dragon Cult, under the leadership of Marika's firstborn, Godwyn.
This would greatly enhance his offensive arsenal, especially since Faith was his strongest attribute, and wielding the lightning bolt of the Ancient Dragons was, quite frankly, beyond thrilling. And not just because of his origins.
He could wait for the official coronation, when more lords arrived at his beck and call, but he intended to do it as quickly as possible. It could be repeated later.
Down below, soldiers from both Stannis's army and Lord Mandarly's men were piling up corpses in front of the fortress walls, preparing them for burning.
It would take a good few days to clean the place, however, and he planned to send two thousand men to the Dreadfort under Stannis' command to take over the castle. In the future, he might personally raze it to the ground.
That was a thought for later, for now war council and a very quick coronation awaited him.
He nimbly began to drop down from ledge to parapet and along other protruding elements of the keep's structure until he reached the ground. The soldiers cleaning Winrefell watched him with a mixture of fear and reverence, but he merely glanced at them.
A few minutes later, he found himself in front of the Great Hall. He opened the massive double doors with ease and stepped through the vestibule into a massive chamber filled with tables and chairs. Several of the hearths were blazing with freshly lit fires.
The chamber's interior was almost intact, as Roose Bolton's soldiers, who had been there before, had rushed out, drawn by the sound of combat as he slaughtered their comrades.
The current members of this small war council sat at the main table, men who had some soldiers under them.
On one side were Wyman Mandarly and Stannis Baratheon, and on the other were the brothers Umber, Mors, and Hother. The latter had a bandaged head, though he should have been glad that was all, as he had almost died at his hands over a misunderstanding.
Great Jon's youngest brother later swore an oath to him, and, learning from Mors's own reason for being at Winterfell, Aerion accepted his oath of allegiance.
The same could not be said for Barbrey Dustin, the Ryswells, and the Kastarks previously captured by Stannis under the leadership of Arnolf, castellan of Karhold. They were all in cells awaiting his judgment.
Seeing him, the four men rose, bowing their heads, even the proud Stannis.
"Your Majesty!"
"My King!"
They greeted him, and he nodded in response, saying, "My Lords, let us begin, for we have much to discuss. But first, Lord Wyman. Do the honors."
With that, he held out a simple crown in his hand, resembling a metal band. And that was precisely what it was. He had no time to prepare a proper-looking crown now.
The man had stared at him in stunned disbelief for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then he reconsidered. He still seemed unsure of the situation. "My King, perhaps it would be better to wait for the other lords to arrive?"
Aerion shook his head. "No, it's important that it happens now. A larger ceremony can be held again when the lords gather here in greater numbers after the North is united."
The men exchanged uncertain glances but then nodded in acceptance. Wyman Mandarly approached him, accepting the crown, then stopped before Aerion.
"Kneel, Your Majesty," he said, and he did so. "Speak the words of the oath."
"I, Aerion Targaryen, standing before you assembled and in the presence of the Greater Will, swear to be the shield of the realm of man, a torch that illuminates the darkness of the Long Night. While I breathe, I will not allow humanity to fall, nor our enemy to rejoice in victory. I shall protect the North from the dead," he said solemnly, bowing his head.
These may not have been the usual words of an oath spoken by a ruler, but they reflected his purpose and the meaning of his reign. For him, being king was merely a useful tool in the fight against the Others and helping them survive the Long Night.
Wyman raised the crown above his head and said, "Before the gods both old and new, I crown you king." From this moment on, you are Aerion Targaryen, King of Winter."
With these words, the fat lord placed the crown on his head, and a moment later, Aerion felt a pleasant warmth and a sudden surge of strength fill him. His body became more resilient, his muscles stronger, his mind clearer. And that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the changes that had taken place within him.
Still kneeling, he stared at the golden letters unfolding before his eyes.
Main Quest: King of Winter (Quest Chain - 1/3) (Completed)
1.Main objective: Capture Winterfell and liberate the North from the Boltons. Crown yourself King of the North. (Goal achieved)
2.Secondary objective: Eradicate the Bolton line and kill all lords who supported them. (Goal achieved)
3.Bonus objectives:
Gain the support of at least 6 Wildlings leaders. (Goal achieved)Gain the support of at least 7 Northern lords. (Goal not achieved)Earn the loyalty of at least 8 knights in the service of Stannis Baratheon (Goal achieved)Save Stannis Baratheon and his men (Goal achieved)Rescue Mance Ryder (Goal not achieved) Thy strength befits a crown: Conquer Winterfell single-handedly. (Goal achieved)
Rewards:
+2 to all attributes, Lightning Spear Incantation +1 to all attributes
3.
+2 to Strength+2 to Endurance+2 to Faith+2 to Arcane+2 to Intelligence +1 to all attributes, Knight Lightning Spear Incantation
You received +4 Vigor
You received +6 Strength
You received +4 Dexterity
You received +4 Mind
You received +4 Endurance
You received +6 Faith
You received +6 Arcane
You received +4 Intelligence
You received Lightning Spear Incantation
Lightning Spear Incantation
One of the incantations of the capital's ancient dragon cult. Summons a lightning spear and hurls it before the caster.
Charging causes a lightning bolt to strike the point of impact.
Long ago, Godwyn the Golden defeated the ancient dragon Fortissax, and befriended his fallen foe — an event that gave rise to the ancient dragon cult in the capital.
You received Knight Lightning Spear Incantation
Knight Lightning Spear Incantation
One of the incantations of the capital's ancient dragon cult.
Summons a lightning spear while also manifesting ancient dragon crests. On throwing the spear, the crests will launch additional spears.
Charge to increase the number of crests and add a bolt of lightning to impact.
An incantation that was taught only to the most accomplished knights, and now a lost art in the Lands Between.
Hmh. As he'd thought, these incantations were powerful, and he knew he'd use them well. The mere thought of hurling a lightning spear felt almost divine.
He knew these incantations would prove invaluable in his journeys. He would have to test them out in a safe environment as soon as possible.
His thoughts immediately turned to the noticeable increase in strength, and a moment later, his status window materialized before him.
Name: Aerion Targaryen
Title: King of Winter
Level: 97
Runes : 22 484
Runes required to level up: 28 833
Lineage: Song of Ice & Fire – You were born with magic flowing through your veins and under the watchful eye of the Outer Gods.
You have an extraordinary facility in learning Spells and Incantations; they are more powerful, faster to cast, and their effects are prolonged. You don't have to limit yourself to memorizing just a few. You have an innate increased resistance to fire and cold.
Trait: The Prince That Was Promised - You are part of the prophecy and inextricably linked to another world. Under the right conditions, you can travel between the two worlds.
Blessing: Eye of the Grace - Graeter Will has rescued you from the influence of two other Outer Beings to make you It Champion. It locked a fragment of Elden Ring in your eye.
The cost of increasing your level with your Maiden is halved. The number of runes you gain is also doubled. You are no longer limited to a single Great Rune.
Curse: You have been marked by the Frenzy Flame of Chaos. It is an unrelenting force that seeks to destroy all life and melt everything into one. Through the spread of Madness, it rends sanity from the mind with suffering.
You have caught the gaze of the Outer God. You gain a permanent bonus to Faith. Your Frenzied Flame Incantations are twice as powerful.
You are cursed. The cursed whispers of those burnt and melted by the Yellow Flame of Frenzy accompany you, capable of driving you mad. Your resistance to Madness has weakened.
Title: Thousands of generations of Starks have stood guard over the North. The Kings of Winter ruled it for millennia, until they bowed to Aegon Targaryen.
As a descendant of these two powerful Bloodlines, isn't it fitting that you hold this honorable title?
The Kings of Winter are symbols of survival, adaptation, and unwavering perseverance. You receive a permanent bonus to Endurance.
Attributes:
Vigor: 26 → 30 (+1 from EF, +2 from Crimson Amber Medallion)
Mind: 26 → 30
Endurance: 36 → 40 (+10 from Kings of Winter, +1 from EF)
Strength: 30 → 36
Dexterity: 30 → 34
Intelligence: 25 → 29
Faith: 36 → 42 (+10 from EotG, +5 from Marked by Flame)
Arcane: 25 → 31
Resistance:
Poison - 26% → 30%
Scarlet Rot- 26% → 30%
Madness - 13% → 17% ( -15 from Marked by Flame)
Sleep - 26% → 30%
Blood Loss - 26% → 40%
Frostbite - 76% → 90% (+50 from Song of Ice & Fire)
Death Blight - 25% → 31%
Damage negation:
Holy - 25% → 31%
Fire - 76% → 80% (+50% from Song of Ice & Fire)
Lightning - 36% → 42%
Magic - 25% → 29%
Stunned, he examined his attributes. He would need a vast number of runes to level up on a similar scale. He had become significantly more powerful in every aspect.
Even his new title was surprising, granting him 10 points of Endurance, which increased his resistance to frostbite. A priceless trait with the upcoming Long Night in mind.
Before he could enjoy what he was seeing, however, a new message appeared before his eyes. A new quest from Greater Will, or rather, another in a chain of quests.
Main Quest: The Once and Future King (Quest Chain - 2/3)
1.Main objective: Capture Kings Landing and defeating all pretenders to the Iron Throne. Crown yourself King of Seven Kingdoms.
2.Secondary objective: Eradicate or subjugate all pretenders to the throne.
3.Bonus objectives:
Conquer RiverrunConquer Casterly RockConquer The EyrieConquer HighgardenConquer SunspearConquer Storm's EndConquer Old TownConquer or destroy Iron Islands
Thy strength befits a crown: Kill avatar of Drowned God.
Rewards:
+3 to all attributes, Minor Erdtree Incantation +2 to all attributes
3.
+4 to Vigor+4 to Strength+4 to Intelligence+4 to Endurance+4 to Mind+4 to Arcane+4 to Faith+4 to Dexterity
+4 to all attributes, Sacred Relic Sword
The rewards in this quest were much greater than the previous one, but the difficulty had also increased significantly. It wasn't so much the enemies he would have to defeat but the sheer amount of ground he would have to traverse to accomplish it.
Conquering so many strongholds, even single-handedly, would require a great deal of time, and maintaining them would require loyal men. No, that would come after the North was united. He first needed to eliminate both the traitors and the Ironborn in the western lands of the North.
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty!" Lord Wyman's shout snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked at the man's worried face. He rose, noticing similar looks on the others' faces.
He must have spent a moment in this position, unresponsive, if they were so worried.
"Everything is fine, my lords. I simply needed a moment to entrust my rule to the gods in a short prayer," he assured them, slowly walking around the table and leaning over it.
He glanced at the map of the North spread out on it, quite detailed, with the more important keeps, rivers, roads, and a few other details marked on it.
As the four lords approached the table, gathering around him, he pointed to the Dreadfort and looked at Stannis. "Lord Stannis, this will be your task. You will take 2,000 men, and the day after tomorrow, when they've rested a bit, you will go there and capture the castle in my name."
Stanis nodded, but after a moment's thought, he replied, "Five hundred will be enough. Bolton didn't leave more than a few dozen men there. And with fewer men, we can move faster. I would also suggest you send one of the Umbers here; I'll be more useful in driving the Ironborn out of the North entirely."
Aerion smiled faintly. That was why he wanted this man on his side. Unlike himself, this one had experience commanding armies.
"You will." He agreed, "I defer to your expertise." Then give your men a few days. Then, at their and Lord Manderly's heads, you will set out to clear the Barrowlands and Rills of the Ironborn."
Stanis nodded and asked, "What about the Wildings?"
"We can expect them for another moon or more, depending on the weather. Five thousand men," he replied, then looked at Wyman.
"I have another task for you, Lord Manderly. You will remain here for now. Tycho Nestoris has been diverted on his journey and should be back here in a few days. The problem is, I don't know if I will still be in Winterfell. Until I return, you will represent me in contact with the Iron Bank."
Lord White Harbor bowed his head slightly. "As you wish, my King. I will not disappoint you. But what should I seek? Money? Contacts? Mercenaries?"
"For money and contacts. I want Iron Banks to act as an intermediary and also finance the purchase of a fleet from Bravoos, as many ships as possible."
"I will do so, my liege," the man replied confidently, though Aerion could clearly see that the man was barely able to stand. It wasn't surprising, however.
Although Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse had lost a considerable amount of weight, the exertion of the last dozen or so hours must still have been particularly taxing.
"My lords, let us sit and discuss..." Before he could finish his sentence, however, he felt his instincts screaming a warning, and a moment later, shouts rang out from outside.
He moved toward the door, but it opened before he had crossed halfway through the hall. A clearly terrified soldier in Mandarly colors burst inside.
"My king, my lords! Fire! The Godswood is ablaze!" he shouted, his voice breaking.
Aerion brushed past him and quickly dashed outside, looking toward the Godswood, where he had left Roose Bolton's body on the heart tree.
Indeed, this entire section of the fortress was ablaze, but it wasn't a normal fire. He felt nauseous as he gazed at the sickly yellow flames of the Frenzy Flame.