Chapter 22
Seventh Moon of 269
The Hour of the Raven (3 P.M.)
Bear Island - Hall of Mormont Keep
The hall of Mormont Keep, usually so sparsely populated and never used as a meeting place for the noble houses of the North, was now packed. Nearly everyone present was a member of the Northern nobility, specifically from the houses west of Winterfell. Great houses like the Ryswells of the Bridle Fort, the Glovers of Deepwood Motte, the Dustins of Barrowton, the Tallharts of Torrhen's Square, and the Flints of Flint's Finger were there, along with their vassals, such as the Overtons of House Dustin and the Woods of House Glover.
Both the lords of the houses and their heirs were in attendance. Since the hall was not large enough to house everyone without descending into chaos, some members had to remain outside, alongside the thousands of men brought in response to Rickard Stark's call to war.
Seated at the high table, waiting for the right moment to speak, was their liege lord, Rickard Stark. To his left sat the local lord, Jeor Mormont, and to his right, the warrior lady of Mormont Keep, Maege Mormont. Continuing to the left were the heir, Jorah Mormont, who bore Red Rain at his side, the Valyrian steel sword of House Drumm won in combat days prior, and the one drawing the most attention from the crowd: Jeor's second son and Jorah's spare, Alaric Mormont.
Many men, particularly those of House Flint, whispered among themselves about rumors that the youngest Mormont son possessed magical powers—that he could hurl fireballs, summon lightning from the sky, turn into a tree, heal the wounded, and skinchange into a bear. These rumors were passed down by the Stark, Mormont, and Glover men who had fought alongside him during the attack. Despite confirmations from various witnesses, who told tales of how the boy summoned a Child of the Forest to save them, many remained skeptical. They watched Alaric intently, waiting for him to do something to confirm the stories, especially after hearing he only used certain magics in the presence of a Weirwood Heart Tree and called upon the Old Gods for others, planting a seed of awe in the back of their minds.
Alaric, sitting in his chair at the main table, simply stared forward with an air of apathy, immune to the stares and whispers. He could have ended the mystery by performing magic before them, but he chose not to. Knowing the rumors linked him to the Old Gods, he preferred to maintain this mask of mystery and let the crowd fill the void with their own theories.
Rickard, sensing he had given the men enough time to settle their spirits, rose from his chair. The room fell silent as all eyes turned toward him. He began the speech he had previously drafted with Jeor:
"Nearly a moon ago, Bear Island was caught by surprise by an attack from House Blacktyde. They came breaking the King's Peace, driven by the delusion that they could find easy riches by invading the North, starting with Bear Island, which they intended to seize as their own and use as a port for the rest of their invasion. But they were wrong, and they failed!"
The crowd raised their hands and cheered wildly in response to Rickard's words. Once the excitement died down, Rickard continued.
"Even caught off guard, House Mormont defeated them. But, undeterred by failure, the Ironborn tried again just nine days ago. This time, it was the ancient House Drumm, with nearly ten times the men of the Blacktydes, high-quality siege engines, and led by Lord Yoren Drumm himself, who carried the Valyrian steel sword Red Rain." Rickard spoke with a grim face and a low, dramatic tone, painting a picture of the gravity and danger of the recent invasion.
He paused his monologue for a second, letting the tension rise...
Then he continued, his expression shifting to a smile and his tone becoming more spirited.
"But this time, Bear Island was ready! Through the union of House Stark, Glover, and Mormont, the Drumm invasion failed on a scale even greater than the Blacktyde's. They barely managed to breach the palisade and the gate, and once they did, they fell faster than when they were outside! They had no strategy, no organization." Before the next part, Rickard leaned over the table, sweeping his gaze across the crowd and locking eyes with the nobles, before dropping the bombshell.
"And among the dead, my lords, was the leader of the invasion himself, Yoren Drumm... slain by the next Lord Mormont, JORAH MORMONT!" He shouted, turning to his left and pointing at Jorah, who froze as he became the center of attention.
The crowd began to roar in celebration again, with several making disparaging comments about Yoren Drumm, like Harren Glover, who remarked that Yoren squealed like a slaughtered pig, drawing laughter from the room.
This time, Rickard didn't wait for the energy to subside. He pushed forward, adding fuel to the fire.
"And by the customs of duel, from this day forward, Red Rain belongs to House Mormont, making the North the only kingdom where a single house wields two Valyrian steel swords!"
As the shouts grew louder, Jeor nudged his eldest son and discreetly told him to show it. Rising and unsheathing Red Rain, Jorah displayed the Valyrian steel in all its glory. Its rippled patterns, caught by the nearby torchlight, shimmered beautifully.
"And now, after being attacked twice, it is our turn to be the ones who strike! Not just for today, but for all the hundreds of times they dared set foot in the North over the last millennia. Do you think, if we asked the Southerners if they remember who Gunthor the Bold, Aggar the Rash, or Joron and his hundred ships were, they would say yes? They wouldn't! They wouldn't, but we do! The rest of Westeros may have forgotten these men, but we remember. The North remembers! And it is time to make them pay for millennia of impunity!"
Now every man was on his feet, cheering and shouting. The vibrations of their cries and stomping could be felt even by those outside.
"Tomorrow, we sail south to Lannisport, passing through the Ironman's Bay, right under their noses. Common men would be afraid, but not I." He paused. "Do you know why? Because we are better than these ennobled pirates. And I know I can speak with confidence—not just for myself, but for all of you—that I cannot imagine any of you shaking your head in denial. Just as I would say that none of you would accept defeat at the hands of a people without honor, who still practice slavery and make the rape of women a part of their culture."
Some of the men spat on the floor at Rickard's description of the Ironborn.
"Or am I wrong? Am I wrong to assume this? Can you imagine yourselves losing to them? Do you fear them?!" Rickard questioned with narrowed eyes, his tone skeptical.
A wave of denials erupted from the crowd.
"Then tell me, are you with me? Are you ready to seek justice in their own territory? In that cursed land they call home?"
This time, the shouts were a flood of "Yes," with several lords shouting promises to kill dozens of Ironborn, including the enemy lords themselves.
Alaric, watching the scene, couldn't help but feel moved—not by the motivational words, which were pre-planned by Lord Rickard and his father, but by the display of emotional manipulation. He envied it. He wasn't ashamed to admit it, but he also didn't regret not putting his skill points into Charisma. Analyzing Rickard's profile, it was clear that, to do what he just did, one needed more than just a couple of extra points in Charisma.
…
Name: Rickard Stark
HP: 82 / 82
Sex: Male
Race: Human of the First Man
Class A: Sorcerer (Origin: Lunar sorcery), Lv 4 / Metamagic: Distant Spell and Extended Spell
Class B: Fighter (Style: Great Weapon Fighting), Lv 7 / Archetype: Banneret
Level: 11
Exp: 28,670 / 34,000 (This exp is for the lv 7 to lv 8 Fighter)
Ability Score
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 11
Constitution: 14
Intelligence: 11
Wisdom: 11
Charisma: 18
Skills
Athletics (Str): Ability to climb, jump, and swim, or any activity requiring strength and skill.
Acrobatics (Dex): Ability to stay steady in tricky situations, like running on ice or balancing on a swaying ship deck.
Survival (Wis): Ability to identify poisonous plants, track footprints, build fires, predict weather, and hunt.
Insight (Wis): Ability to discern a person's mood and intentions.
Feats
Great Weapon Master: +1 talent to Great Weapons (Greataxe, Greatsword, Maul, etc.).
Talents
Great Sword: 2 / 4
Greataxe: 1 / 4
Maul: 1 / 4
Halberd: 1 / 4
Glaive: 1 / 4
Pike: 1 / 4
Bastard Sword: 1 / 4
Long Sword: 1 / 4
Daggers: 1 / 4
Darts: 1 / 4
Slings: 1 / 4
Quarterstaffs: 1 / 4
Light crossbows: 1 / 4
…
Eighteen Charisma. That was not just the highest Charisma score he had ever seen, but the highest Ability Score in general. Combined with his Persuasion skill, it was no surprise he could easily ignite a crowd. But, analyzing his profile, his Charisma was the least impressive thing to be found there.
At level eleven, Rickard stood as the highest-level individual Alaric had ever met, surpassing the previous record holder, Jeor, by three levels—formerly four, since his father had leveled up after the last battle. But the most impressive thing about his level was that it was the sum of his class levels: Sorcerer at level four and Fighter at level seven. Rickard possessed not just two classes, something Alaric didn't know was possible, but one of them—his first—was Sorcerer, making Rickard the first other human Alaric had met who could also use magic. It was something Rickard apparently didn't know, since Alaric had detected genuine confusion and shock when questioning Rickard about his magic.
Besides being the only other person with magic, Rickard was also the only one to possess a Feat: Great Weapon Master, which, like Alaric's Polearm Master, granted +1 talent to an entire category of weapons. This showed that Feats were not exclusive to him, which answered one of his questions, but created another: why are some born with them and others without? Born, because Alaric doubted Rickard had completed a Mythic Quest, which, just as an Epic Quest gave an ability point, gave a Feat. Alaric doubted it because the only Mythic Quest he had received required him to kill the Night King, a feat so grand that, if Rickard had accomplished something similar, all of Westeros would know.
While Alaric reflected on the mysteries of the system, Jeor, sitting two seats to his right, leaned forward, looked at Alaric, and reminded him:
"Don't forget you stay and watch Maester Yves."
During the Drumm invasion, everyone had been occupied, and no one could watch Maester Yves. There was a possibility he had contacted the Citadel, something everyone became much more opposed to after Garoa revealed the Maesters' conspiracy. After Alaric confirmed the possibility using the Detect Thoughts spell, Jeor had given Alaric the mission to watch him during the war and prevent him from reporting anything else. Alaric could not go to war, as it was too dangerous for him to travel to the land where the god who hunts him is worshipped.
"I won't go," Alaric replied, looking back at Jeor.
For a moment, Jeor remained still, simply looking at Alaric, searching for a sign of a lie in his eyes. Alaric, using Insight and his +2 Wisdom as a boost, knew his father didn't believe him, just as he knew his father knew that Alaric knew. Leaning back in his chair without saying a word, Jeor returned to staring at the crowd, as did Alaric.
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The Next Day
Bear Island - Shoreline
The Hour of the Coin (9 A.M.)
More than 30 ships, mostly longships, were docked, fully manned by over two thousand men and being prepared to set sail.
Of these thirty-plus ships, nine belonged to the Mormonts: one from the Blacktydes, six from the Drumms—including two caravels among the longships—and two they already owned. Obviously, their sails had been repainted green, the color of House Mormont.
Among the remaining ships, nine belonged to House Glover, with six of those also coming from the Drumms, which they had repainted red.
The other ships were divided mainly between the Flints, who lived in a port city like White Harbor, but in Blazewater Bay, and the Ryswells and Dustins, who had cities alongside wide rivers that flowed into Blazewater Bay. Because of this proximity between the three houses, a strong maritime trade had formed, which boosted their naval strength. All of them were caravels.
Some vassal houses of the Dustins and Ryswells, who also lived near the rivers or bordered the Flints, had a ship or two. For the houses that had no ships, such as the Tallharts, their vassals, and the Glover vassals, they had to join those with space, which were only the Mormonts and Glovers, thanks to the newly acquired boats. Without these ships, many could not be there, or the boats would be overpopulated, just as the Stark and Glover forces were when they came to Bear Island with only three ships, rendering them totally unfit for naval combat.
"If the call to arms hasn't gone wrong, the Eastern forces should have already left the North and are now passing through the Vale. When we reach Lannisport, in maybe 10 or 15 days, depending on the wind, they will probably be passing through Dorne. They will likely be the last to arrive, but I doubt they won't make it in time." Lord Harden Flint, being the most experienced in maritime logistics among all present, clarified Rickard Stark's doubts regarding the forces of the other houses that gathered and departed from White Harbor at the command of the letters Rickard sent the same day the letter from King's Landing arrived at Bear Island.
"Thank you, Lord Flint, that was all," Rickard said, dismissing him.
Lord Flint nodded and walked toward his caravel, leaving Rickard on the beach along with Jeor, Alaric, and Yves, who was only there because he couldn't be left alone. Jorah and Maege were already boarded.
Turning to Alaric, Rickard spoke:
"If the Ironborn are stupid enough to attack, even knowing they are about to be invaded by the entire navy of Westeros, these five hundred men we are leaving behind, along with your magic, should be enough to defend the island. I know it must be difficult to have this responsibility on your shoulders, so if you have trouble, listen to the advice of more experienced men like Lynd Burley." He spoke, looking deep into Alaric's eyes and using his Insight skill to analyze his reaction.
"I know. And it's not like..." Alaric stopped for a moment, thinking of how to speak, not wanting to give any information to Yves beside him. "...they wouldn't help if things got out of control."
Rickard, noticing Alaric did not address the fact that he would stay on Bear Island, addressed the issue:
"Boy... I know you want to go with us, but I also think I've come to know you well enough to know this desire doesn't come from a youthful urge to prove yourself. So I hope you don't do something reckless that will put not only yourself in danger, but all of Westeros."
Under the watchful and inquisitive gaze of Rickard and Jeor, and the comically confused look of Yves, Alaric did not answer immediately. He stopped and looked at the sky, at the birds flying, reflecting on what he planned to do, then took a deep breath and answered:
"I won't go."
And Rickard's Insight, being weaker than Alaric's, detected nothing.
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The Hour of Ghosts (12 A.M.)
Bear Island - Alaric's Room in Mormont Keep
While the island slept, or prepared to sleep, Alaric stood, looking at the sky through the open window of his room.
In his right hand was a Goodberry, which he brought to his mouth and swallowed, still looking at the sky, preparing for something he hadn't done in a long time—not for lack of opportunity, but out of caution, not wanting to become addicted and lose himself.
Looking down to his right, he found a letter he had written, which would explain his disappearance to Yves and Lynd, his nanny.
With one last sigh, Alaric closed his eyes and began to connect his inner self with the nature around him, causing green particles to emerge and surround him.
Something interesting about the Druid Circle Alaric chose—the Circle of the Moon, which allowed him to become a bear—was that, until level 6, he could only turn into land animals, making it possible to become a marine animal only at level 6 and a flying one at level 8. But, thanks to the racial bonus of possessing First Men blood, he had gained advantages in all magic related to animals. The bonus changed depending on the spell, such as sharing all the senses of an animal in Beast Sense, but, in the case of his transformation magic, the racial bonus negated the restriction on what type of animal he could become.
Quickly, the green particles began to stick to Alaric and change his form. Unlike when he turned into a bear, he didn't start gaining mass, but losing it in a large amount. Little by little, his green human silhouette faded. Arms became wings, legs became talons with long claws, and his head gained a beak—and finally, feathers. Feathers all over his body.
With the particles disappearing, revealing a majestic eagle, Alaric looked at the room one last time, gave a cry, and flew out the window.
He was heading south.
Lannisport.
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