Ser Alaric Mormont
The start of the tournament is drawing closer and closer.
Fortunately, more visits to the godswood are not necessary, otherwise I would be forced to use magic to go or return.
With the city and the castle becoming more crowded, gaining more and more eyes and mouths, I have been going back and forth between only two places: here, in the stronghold of the Lannister cadet house, and the northern camp outside the walls, where the men returned to camp after the return and where I train with those who will fight by my side in the tournament's Mock Battle.
With the fort becoming increasingly populous, making it impossible to walk the corridors without running into curious nobles, the training yard also began to receive more and more visitors who were training in preparation for the tournament; it was decided to train around our own.
There, in the heart of the camp and under the gaze of hundreds of northerners, we fought in sparring sessions against other groups composed of those around us.
Following the tournament rules, each team had seven members.
In the tournament, the Mock Battle will consist of seven teams of seven, totaling forty-nine men. It will be chaotic. Alliances, aiming to unite and focus on one of the teams, are very likely to form even before the start.
But, in the end, it will be much safer than the Melee desired by Aerys and Tywin, where more than a hundred men will fight each other until only one is left standing. By far the most dangerous modality of all.
Even though it is likely that alliances will be formed to unite against my team, aiming to prove themselves against one of the seven warriors as soon as the teams are announced, the Mock Battle is still much safer.
And even with alliances formed against us, I doubt my team will lose.
Composed of me, Jeor, Jorah, Maege, Rickard, Harren Glover, and Hullen Wull, our team will definitely win.
Rickard initially did not agree with me, finding me erroneously confident.
He proposed replacing Jorah and Maege with others, but I fought back saying it was them or nothing.
I understand his apprehension. Jorah and Maege, both level 6, are the weakest in the group. I could replace them with other mountain men like Hullen, who were between level 8 and 9, like Hullen himself.
Discovering the high level average of the mountain clans was an interesting discovery. The harsh environment they live in must provide several missions to be completed, unlike the monotonous Bear Island.
But still, I decided against it.
I want to win the battle with all the Mormonts by my side.
Tywin wants to use the tournament to finally get his Valyrian steel sword and bring more glory to his house? I can do that too.
I will use the tournament he himself is organizing to promote House Mormont and our three Valyrian steel swords, putting me closer and closer to completing one of the requirements of the mission, The Restoration of House Mormont.
I managed to convince Rickard by showing how I can increase their inferior strength through my Enhance Ability. Already familiar with it through the battle against the Drowned God, he yielded to my wish.
Since then, we have been fighting together, learning to fight as one.
To increase our chances, I also started using the other functionality of Telepathic, my new Feat, which allows me to communicate with anyone within my field of vision at a distance of 18 meters (60 feet).
It doesn't allow them to answer me back, but it's great for warning about something I don't want others to hear or distracting opponents.
But Mock Battles are not the only modality in which the North will compete. As I discussed with Rickard, I intend to make the North win all modalities.
First, we both hunted for the best archers until we found Murch Flint, of the mountain Flints, who call themselves the First Flints. He was a level 7 Ranger and experienced with the bow after years of hunting in the northern mountains.
He will compete in target shooting.
Next, we hunted for someone strong and tenacious enough to be the last one standing during the Melee.
Again, we ended up choosing one of the mountain men. A level 8 barbarian Norrey.
Luton Norrey was big, very big. Both horizontally and vertically. Standing 1.95m tall, he was by far the largest man I have ever seen. But despite his height, the thinness that usually accompanies tall men like him was not present.
Weighing 120 kilograms, he was a tank. And as expected of someone with that build, his constitution and strength were extremely high, with both at 17, in exchange for possessing a dexterity of 6.
Low to a problematic level, but I can solve it myself by increasing it through my Enhance Ability.
The third man, the one who would compete in the tournament's biggest event, the joust, ended up being the complete opposite of the mountain men.
Benfred Manderly, a follower of the Seven, ended up being the one chosen for the job.
As he comes from the only northern house that followed southern customs a bit, he is the most suitable.
Brenfred refused initially. Despite admitting he was better than everyone present, he was not comparable to those who would compete in the tournament.
He was probably right. But just like Luton's dexterity, I can solve it the same way.
Horsemanship, like skill with the bow, is partially influenced by dexterity. Increasing the skills a bit upon receiving any boost.
With my entire plan of having the North sweep every modality depending on using Enhance Ability, it is a relief that I have enough spell slots for all of us.
***
18th day of the 8th moon, 269 A.C.
The Hour of High Sun (11 A.M.)
Lannisport, Lion's Den
There are only six days left until the start of the tournament and the flow of people continues to grow, but few of them were allowed to enter the city, being forced to camp outside thanks to the overpopulation within it.
Only the most important groups can enter the city, and the even more important ones receive the honor of being received by the King.
And now, at this exact moment, only two groups are receiving this honor.
And as the repetition of training in the north field and hiding in my room was becoming too repetitive and mentally exhausting for me, I came to see the reception of these two groups.
I didn't come alone. Jeor and Rickard came with me, as well as some other northerners chosen by Rickard who acted as bodyguards and shields against the looks cast in my direction.
Maege and Jorah are not with me because they chose to go to the camp and continue training.
One of the groups came from the Reach, straight from Oldtown and led by Leyton Hightower; the other came from the Riverlands and was led by Lord Hoster Tully.
Possessing a Lord Paramount, the Riverlands group was received first, making the Reach group stay behind them in the Great Hall, waiting for their turn.
"Your Grace," Hoster Tully speaks, kneeling before Aerys, who observes him sitting in the lord's chair, welcoming him, with Tywin by his side.
The image of the man who would become too old and impotent to lead his kingdom was not present. Still in his twenties, Hoster possessed a strong build, similar to his brother, the Blackfish, who watched him from afar.
Curiously, the one attracting the most looks was not the Lord of the Riverlands. No. The one responsible for most of the stares was behind him.
By his clothes, he looked like a septon, but not one of much importance, considering his stained robe, which indicates that there is something more than a simple visual inspection is capable of discovering.
GM Eyes then.
-
Name: Mycah Rivers (38)
HP: 48 / 48
Sex: Masculine
Race: Man of the Andals
Class: Cleric
Divine Domain: Order
Level: 7
Exp: 29,571 / 34,000
------------------------------Ability Score-----------------------------------
Strength: 11
Dexterity: 9
Constitution: 11
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 13
Charisma: 15
----------------------------------Skills--------------------------------------
Religion (Int): The ability to learn and recall information related to deities, rites and prayers, religious hierarchy, holy symbols, and the practice of secret cults.
Medicine (Wis): The ability to stabilize a dying man or diagnose a disease.
Insight (Wis): Discern a person's mood and intentions.
Persuasion (Cha): The ability to convince people to believe in something.
----------------------------------Feats--------------------------------------
None
----------------------------------Talents--------------------------------------
+1 to all simple weapons (Club, Dagger, Mace, Handaxe, Spear).
-
High level for a septon, who should spend his whole life inside his sept praying instead of risking himself and leveling up as a consequence, but I see nothing that truly justifies the amount of stares.
Even more so with him attracting more and more of them, even stealing some of those directed at me.
He possesses high Charisma, as well as a Persuasion skill. Did he gain fame by being a good preacher of the teachings of the Faith?
Who is Mycah Rivers?
Then, whispers begin to find my ears.
"Is it him?"
"The Saint?"
"That knight beside him bears the sigil of House Paege, so it must truly be the Saint."
"Then that other knight beside him must be Ser Kermit."
The Saint? Why is he called that, what did he do to—
Tentacles. I feel tentacles forcing their way into my mind, trying to ransack it for something.
But my mind resists this intrusion.
Sensing the origin of the mental attack, I turn toward the entrance of the Great Hall, in front of the gate where the Reach group waited for their turn.
Between the gaps in the crowd, my eyes meet those of a girl. The gap is quite small, obscuring most of her figure, but it is possible to tell she is no older than sixteen.
And a noble, judging by her delicate appearance and beautiful green dress. And judging by her shocked face, with eyes and mouth wide open, she did not expect to have her mental attack rebuffed and to be discovered.
Now, who are you?
GM Eyes.
-
Name: Malora Hightower (15)
HP: 10 / 10
Sex: Feminine
Race: Man of the Andals
Class: Sorcerer
Sorcerous Origin: Aberrant Mind
Level: 3
Exp: 1,150 / 2,700
------------------------------Ability Score -----------------------------------
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 8
Constitution: 7
Intelligence: 11 (+1 = 12)
Wisdom: 9
Charisma: 7 (+2 = 9)
----------------------------------Skills--------------------------------------
Arcana (Int): The ability to learn and recall knowledge about magic, magic items, arcane symbols, magical traditions, the planes of existence, and the inhabitants of those planes.
Religion (Int): The ability to learn and recall information related to deities, rites and prayers, religious hierarchy, holy symbols, and the practice of secret cults.
----------------------------------Feats--------------------------------------
Telepathic: You awaken the ability to mentally connect with others and +1 in Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma.
Telekinetic: You learn to move things with your mind and +1 in Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma.
Keen Mind: Your mind is able to track time, direction, and detail with extraordinary precision. You can accurately recall anything you have seen or heard within the past month. +1 Intelligence.
----------------------------------Talents--------------------------------------
Dagger: 1 / 4
Darts: 1 / 4
Slings: 1 / 4
Quarterstaffs: 1 / 4
Light Crossbows: 1 / 4
-
What the hell is this? She has the same number of Feats as I do. And I only gained my third as a reward for risking myself against the Drowned God, just as Gerold, Rickard, and Edmund gained theirs, and the Faceless Men must have gained theirs.
But I highly doubt this girl has done anything similar. Just killing the divine avatar granted us ten thousand experience. For her to have done something comparable to gain so many Feats wouldn't leave her at a measly level 3.
No. This can only mean one thing: she was born this way.
She is also a Sorcerer. Perhaps that is related?
Does her magical origin, Aberrant Mind, have something to do with this?
She, Malora, averts her gaze from me and lifts her head to speak to a man beside her.
Moving slightly to get a better view of whom she was talking to, I find a man in his thirties, also dressed in green, initially looking at her but then turning to face me with a look full of curiosity and fascination.
Beside him, a man of eccentric appearance was also watching me.
He looked like a maester, with a gray tunic and links tied in a chain around his body, but he also wore a mask that covered the upper part of his face.
The mask was white and... is that Valyrian steel?
What the hell is going on?
"Your Grace, while I still have your attention, I wish to present someone to you, a septon," Hoster Tully speaks, drawing my attention back.
The Saint?
Yes. Mycah, the septon who was stealing the attention previously dedicated to me, steps forward, positioning himself beside Hoster.
"Your Grace, this is Mycah, a septon from the Riverlands of great renown. Perhaps you have already heard of him."
There were traces of nervousness in his words and posture.
"I did not," Aerys says, looking at the septon with curiosity. "What do you desire, Septon Mycah? Donations for your sept?"
"No, Your Grace, I come into your presence to ask that you hear the vision given to me by the Seven Who Are One."
The hall explodes into gasps and murmurs.
What the hell is going on?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
For 6 advanced chapter, you can go to my patreon: Patreon.com/Keiondir