Life 0: Lord Commander
The night was quiet in a way Jon Snow had learned to distrust.
Castle Black slept beneath a skin of frost, its towers hunched like old men beneath the weight of centuries. The wind slid along the Wall with a low, endless moan, as if the ice itself were remembering older times. Jon stood in the yard with his cloak pulled tight, breath ghosting before him, listening to the sounds of home boots on stone, a distant laugh, the clatter of steel. His brothers. His watch.
'My watch,' he reminded himself. He had done what he believed was right. That thought steadied him, even now. The world outside the wall meanwhile was collapsing fast.
South of the Wall, kings butchered one another over crowns that meant nothing. The North bled, the Riverlands burned, and the Iron Throne devoured men faster than any battlefield. Ravens flew thick with lies, each one screaming a different truth.
One truth that remained was beyond the Wall, the dead were moving.
Jon Snow had seen them. Not as stories or half-remembered nightmares, but as cold hands clawing out of the snow, blue eyes burning with patient hunger. The wildlings knew it too that was why they were fleeing south, why they broke ancient laws and prayed the Wall would open. The enemy did not care for borders.
And still, the Night's Watch argued. They called him an oathbreaker for letting the free folk pass. Traitor for treating enemies like men. Fool for believing the Watch existed to guard the realms of the living, not cling to old hatreds. Every choice he made saved lives and cost him brothers.
Winter had come, but unity had not.
Jon stood at the center of it all, burdened with command he never wanted, trying to hold together a world that preferred to shatter. He had chosen the greater war over the smaller ones, the long night over petty vengeance. If this was treason, then so be it.
A boy's voice called out. "Lord Commander."
Jon turned. Olly stood near the armory, hands clenched around a parchment. The boy's face was pale, his eyes too bright. He looked younger than ever in the torchlight, barely more than a shadow of the frightened child Jon had found beyond the Wall.
"What is it?" Jon asked.
"They found… something," Olly said. "In the ice cells. You should see it."
Jon hesitated only a moment. There was always something. A deserter, a fight, a body too frozen to name. He nodded and followed.
They passed through the yard, the Wall rising above them like a frozen god. As they walked, Jon felt the weight of eyes on his back. Brothers leaned on spears. Men paused in their work.
The ice cells were dark, the air sharp with cold and old blood. A handful of black-cloaked figures waited there, faces half-hidden by shadow. Bowen Marsh stepped forward, his hands folded inside his sleeves, his expression pinched with something between sorrow and resolve.
"What is this?" Jon asked.
"For the Watch," Marsh said softly. The words didn't land at first. They floated, meaningless, like snowflakes that hadn't yet touched the ground.
Then Wick Whittlestick moved. Pain blossomed in Jon's side, white-hot and sudden. He gasped, looking down as blood bloomed black against his wool. Wick yanked the dagger free, eyes wide and wet.
"For the Watch," Wick whispered, as if begging forgiveness.
Jon stumbled back, shock numbing the pain even as it spread. "Why?" he breathed. His hand went to Longclaw, but another blade struck, then another sharp kisses against his ribs, his thigh, his back. He fell to one knee, the world tilting wildly.
Bowen Marsh stepped closer, tears freezing on his cheeks. "You brought wildlings south of the Wall," he said. "You broke your vows. You would have us follow a king, fight a war that isn't ours."
"I was saving lives," Jon said. Each word scraped his throat raw. "I was saving all of us."
"Lies," someone spat.
Steel punched into his shoulder. Jon cried out, the sound ripped from him without dignity or control. He tried to stand, but his legs failed. The stone rushed up to meet him, cold and unyielding.
Then Olly was there. The boy stood over him, dagger trembling in his small hand. His face was twisted with grief and hate, a child's heart breaking under the weight of too much loss. "She was my family," Olly said. "You let them in."
Jon looked up at him. Snowflakes drifted down between them, soft and slow. For a moment, he saw the scared boy beyond the Wall again, clutching his knife with white-knuckled terror. "You too Olly?"
Olly screamed and drove the dagger down. The pain was distant now, like an echo heard through water. Jon's breath came shallow and wet. He tasted iron. Hands pushed him onto his back, the stones leeching warmth from his body as the cold crept in, claiming him inch by inch.
"For the Watch," Bowen Marsh said one last time, his voice breaking as he plunged the knife into Jon's belly.
Jon lay staring up at the sky, snow settling on his lashes, his hair, his lips. He tried to remember warmth—Winterfell's hearth, the smell of bread, Robb's laughter—but the memories slipped away like melting ice.
'I failed,' he thought. Not just the Watch. Not just the Wall. Everything. He thought about his dead brother, Rob. His broken family. His ransacked home. His dead father. His missing sister. He thought of them all.
The cold was winning now. It wrapped around him gently, almost kindly, dulling the pain, slowing his thoughts. He felt himself drifting, sinking into something vast and dark. Ghost. The thought came unbidden. His direwolf's red eyes, watching from somewhere beyond. Waiting. "I'm sorry," Jon whispered to the night.
The snow fell harder, muffling the sounds of Castle Black. His brothers stepped back, some retching, some weeping, some staring in stunned silence at what they had done.
Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, lay bleeding in the snow, his black cloak spread like broken wings.
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Life 0 Results: Lord Commander
Legacy Points (LP):
Base:
Lived 7 Years: +7 LP
Joined the Night's Watch: +1 LP
Killed Other: +5 LP
Got Valayean Sword(Longclaw): +3 LP
Got Wildling Lover(Ygritte): +1 LP
Achievements:
Became Lord Commander: +20%
Peace w/ Wildings: +30%
Final LP Total:
17 LP × 50% = 25 LP
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Shop
Life Points:
Attributes Points:
Augmentation I: Start with 1 bonus stat points - 10 LP Augmentation II: Start with 2 bonus stat points - 20 LP Augmentation III: Start with 3 bonus stat points - 40 LP
Training Points:
Superiority I: Train attributes at 1d2 - 10 LP Superiority II: Train attributes at 1d3 - 20 LP Superiority III: Train attributes at 1d4 - 40 LP
Unique:
Reroll: Get 1 reroll per life - 25 LP
Traits: LOCK - 50 LP
Powers: Gifts/Talents within your blood - 100 LP
Magic: Ability to manipulate the forces of the world - 100 LP
Background: What were you doing growing up - 100 LP
Bonus Actions: Have 2 Actions each turn - 100 LP
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Synopsis
You are the hero of the story, there is no way the world will let go of you until you save it and live happily ever after no matter how many times you have to die.
Your Jon Snow, the supposed hero of the story who died an ignoble death now you get to reset from the beginning. This time try not to die and do your job of saving the world properly!
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Mechanics
Attributes
Skill
Description
Diplomacy
This has to do with winning people over and managing them.
You need it especially to win over any Westerosi
Martial
This has to do with you ability to lead armies.
You need it in this endlessly feuding world .
Stewardship
This is your ability to manage your lands.
You need it to get any value from it.
Intrigue
This has to do with plotting & scheming in the shadows.
There is a lot of that in the works.
Learning
This has to do with new innovations & thoughts.
Best way to change this miserable world
Faith
This has to do with your connections to the Gods.
You will need their help to take down the Enemy
Prowess
This is your personal combat ability.
Fighting is king here!
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Values
Description
1–4
Terrible
5–8
Bad
9–12
Poor
13–19
Average
20-40
Good
41-60
Excellent
61-90
Amazing
91-100
Phenomenal
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Lives
You are Jon Snow.
The goal is simple: save the world, no matter how many lives it takes and maybe, just maybe, earn a happy ending along the way.
Each life begins at the same moment: the day the royal family arrives at Winterfell. That is when everything first went wrong.
You have 10 years before the Great Enemy arrives and destroys Westeros.
2 years before your father, Ned Stark, goes south to the capital and loses his head.
4 years consumed by the War of the Five Kings, tearing the realm apart.
2 years as strangers and invaders pour onto Westeros' shores.
2 years where the Enemy hammers against the Wall itself.
When those ten years end, it's over.
If you haven't stopped the Enemy by then, Westeros falls and you begin again.
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Turns
Time moves in Turns.
Each year is one turn.
During a turn, you may take one major action—anything Jon Snow could reasonably attempt in that year: train, travel, scheme, fight, rule, learn, love, betray, prepare… or make terrible mistakes.
Every action corresponds to an Attribute.
Fight battles → strengthen Prowess
Command men → raise Martial
Negotiate alliances → grow Diplomacy
Study lore → improve Learning
Navigate courts and secrets → sharpen Intrigue
Pray a lot → deepens Faith
As you act, your attributes increase, shaping who you become in that life. Different attributes unlock new options, alternate outcomes, and hidden paths you could not access before.
But death is never far. When you die, time resets.
You return to Winterfell, to the day the royal family arrives… older in memory, wiser in instinct but stripped of power. All attributes reset to 1.
Only knowledge, experience, and the weight of past failures carry over. Every life is a lesson. Every turn is a gamble.
You have 10 turns per life. When the final turn ends, the Great Enemy comes. If you are not ready, the world ends, and you begin again.
Difficulty
Each action has a Difficulty Level that represents how hard it is to succeed at your action.
Your chance of success depends on:
The dice (1d100) The relevant Attribute(bonus) The Difficulty of the action Your past choices, alliances, and reputation in that life
If your Attribute meets or exceeds the Difficulty, you succeed.
If it falls short, the outcome may be a partial success, failure, or catastrophe.
Difficulty tiers:
Trivial (1) – almost impossible to fail Easy (5-10) – common, low-risk actions Moderate (15) – requires competence Demanding(30) – requires competence Hard (50) – dangerous or politically complex Very Hard (75) – rare, risky, or bold actions Extreme(80–90) – pushing limits. Nearly Impossible (90-100) – defying history itself Legendary (100+) – Changing the course of the world.
Difficulty in Play
Each action is assigned a Difficulty (1–100) by the game master (me). The action's relevant Attribute is compared to the Difficulty. Higher Difficulty = higher risk, greater reward, harsher consequences.
Outcomes scale with Difficulty:
Low difficulty → safe growth High difficulty → massive gains or catastrophic failure
Some Difficulty 80–100 actions may:
Require multiple turns Need specific conditions or alliances Be locked until certain attributes or knowledge are gained in past lives
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