The Vale of Arryn
111 AC
Third Person POV
XXX
A crowd gathered around to look upon a captured group of men. Each one looked ragged and tired, some wounded as well. The group around the captured mountain clansmen wore bronze armor covered in runes and other smaller symbols.
They stood triumphant within a willing camp that their company recently raided. The Stonecrow settlement wasn't large and it was only temporary. Even so, the speed and ease with which they had been defeated had even surprised the knights of House Royce who started the battle. Their strategy wasn't even very complicated and would be considered honorable by the standards of any Vale knight. The Mountain clansmen had fought back of course but alas it was no use.
One of the captured mountain tribesmen, named Shogga, was struggling against his restraints. His head throbbed with pain and a few drops of blood leaked down from his matted hair. He had been caught off guard during the earlier raid and hit over the head. When he woke he was captured along with his fellow tribesmen.
"Cravens! Let's go so I can bash in your heads!" He roared, attempting to break free of his binds. The men around him echoed his sentiments, and each of the captured tribesmen struggled to break free much to the annoyance of their captors. The Royce soldiers had all been relatively quiet after the battle until one of them spoke up.
"Will someone make them shut the bloody hell up!" A man said taking a water-filled wineskin from his lips with a sneer. One of the men who was sitting not too far from them sighed and stood up suddenly. One of the others noticed and quickly moved out of the way as the man made his way through the crowd.
A knight walked forward staring down at him with contempt. Shogga snarled at the man, bearing his teeth; he continued to rant, spitting from between them, but without a word, the Royce man narrowed his eyes into a glare. He raised a bronze-armored fist to smack the savage first man, but before the blow landed for a brief moment a the runes on his bronze gloves shimmered with a faint light. It was subtle enough that some might mistake it for the glimmer of the sun off his knuckles.
But others who knew the Intricacies of the mystical arts might notice that there was something off as if there was something slightly unilateral about the brand new warmer that affected his movements. Even so, the man, Tovin, raised his hand and sent it crashing down faster than Shogga had expected. It landed with a loud crack like the snapping of a wild tree branch.
With one blow Tovin had sent the other man sprawling down to the ground in a heap. Still tied in a rope Shogga lost consciousness jaw broken, pride in ruins. Dogga, Shogga's younger brother, leaned over his unconscious sibling in worry. Torvin didn't care enough to pay attention to that, he waited as the Stone crows grew silent before yelling what he wanted to say.
"THE NEXT ONE OF YOU SAVAGES WHO SAYS A WORD IS GETTING A BLADE TO THE HEAD INSTEAD OF A HAND!" He roared at the top of his lungs with frustration. He'd grown tired of looking at the filth that had managed to dent his brand-new armor. It had been given to his company as a gift. One of the first was made from a new design made by the Prince of Runestone himself. It wasn't all bronze like their traditional armor but still carried enough to look the part. Plus it was even covered in handmade runes etched into the steel by Prince himself or one of his new blacksmiths. Torvin wasn't all too sure about that part he wasn't privy to the details of how the armor was made only that it was supposed to be better than the old version.
To his and his whole group's surprise, it did seem to be much better. He had taken what had felt like one of the hardest blows of his life right to his ribs during the battle via a Stone crow's hammer of sharpened rock. The plackart had held firm for the most part but still dented slightly in the side where the blow landed. He had been less angry about the threat the strike itself had posed and more about the damage it had done to the bronze plate and the fresh forged steel lined beneath it.
Normally a man like him would never receive a suit of armor this good in his entire life and to top it off, it wasn't even that heavy. In fact, the armor was far lighter than he was used to and he could move far more quickly in it. He had no idea how or where it had been made as his company captain had been tight-lipped about it. Only that it had been made right here in Runestone and they had the prince and his new blacksmiths to thank for it.
He had grown tired of waiting for his captain to return to report back to the main group of soldiers they had split off from to finish off this last group of clansmen. Even so, he just needed to wait until the captain returned. Turning away from the group of wildlings he marched his way back through to spot at the back of the group. Returning to his seat he pondered what was taking so long.
It had been hours already and to tell the truth, he was starting to get a little worried. The captain was an old friend of his named Yoren. He had known Tovin since the two of them were just eight years old. Nothing could separate the two and although they had grown a little more distant after gaining wives and families they both still remained friends. When the two of them had been made captain and vice captain respectively by their lady herself the two had been ecstatic. But now a few good years had gone by of them working together and they had only one nuisance that had continuously bothered them besides the routine visits of a certain red dragon rider. That was the clan the group of men his company had captured today.
The Stone crows had always been a thorn in the sides of the lords of the Vale. Usually not much more than the other mountain clans but lately they've been far more active than usual. They had been sending out a few companies of the odd band of wildlings, but today they had sent out multiple to test out some new weapons and armor that the prince, and his new hired blacksmiths had been making for the past few moons.
Still Torvins thoughts were interrupted when a few of his men, whom he sent to guard the area spoke of the captain's return. Yoren greeted his old friend warmly and the two quickly began preparing the men to head out. Soon they were moving the prisoners back to reunite with their main force.
Tovin and his men packed up anything of value and got moving. They saddled up on their coursers, tied Stone crows to the horses to lead them along, and the other group moved the valuables in a wagon that they had set up before the battle started.
They had a hard time moving the wildlings at first. It hadn't been easy to get them to cooperate with them but the threats of pain and a little violence sorted it out quickly. As they traveled through the forested mountains of the Vale the grew closer and closer to Royce territory. Soon they met up with their new commander.
Ser Willam Royce was a young knight but as of recently he's been making quite the name for himself. Although he was a blood-related member of the house Royce which was on the rise he got his start as the guard of the young Prince. From there he earned a name for himself further by unhorsing every other knight at the nameday tourney of Jeyene Arryn only a year ago. Something he had lost two years ago due to a small mystery knight who turned out to be the young Prince himself. The year after he lost to the Prince's father Prince Daemon who attended at the behest of his own son. But his greatest claim to fame was the creature lying beside him.
Ser Willam sat up straight upon a red-brown horse with black hair and a strip of white from forehead to muzzle. His armor gleamed bronze in the sunlight and unlike the others, his new armor had been personalized. It came with a long black cape with orange runes that glowed slightly brighter than the others on his armor. To the untrained eye, it might look like the reflection of sunlight but the armor.
But what stood out more than anything was the large black beast standing beside the horse. In its own war armor, the matched Ser Willam and the war horse's, a long thin but surprisingly muscular feline stood quietly. The creature was a shadow cat the size of a full-grown tiger. The beast had white stripes over a black layer of fur thicker than the usual shadow cat's hide. It even had its own shining armor painted in Royce orange and carved in brand new runes.
It liked its lips as if tasting the air as Yoren's company approached carefully making sure to steer clear of the shadow cat but took care to stay in formation. Yoren approached his commanding officers but kept his distance from the dark feline. They quickly exchanged plesentries and Willam gave Yoren his orders.
Quickly Ser Willam had Captain Yoren's men move their prisoners to join the others. Then he returned to the make-shift camp that had been set up for the night, his shadow cat following behind him. Rather it would be more accurate to call it the prince's shadow cat that happened to follow him when the prince didn't need it.
Willam returned to camp and rushed back to the command tent. Dismounting before it he stopped short of entering because of a rather large, and rather lazy cave bear blocking the door. The bear was another one of the cubs the prince had found on his first hunt. He had been the one Ser Gerold had taken the greatest liking to of the litter. The prince had named him Winnie and of all his siblings Winnie was the most friendly. All it took was some bunny and the big beast would treat you like his best friend.
Willam sighed and called out "Ser Gerold I have returned." Soon a his father exited the tent and told the cave bear to move. Huffing the great bear rose from his spot and stepped aside. Willam walked past the animal shadow cat trailing behind him into the command tent.
The tent was full of different knights seated around a table discussing tactics and strategies that the prince had left them. So far they had proven effective and they had been making consistent progress. Willam was grateful for that but it wasn't the only thing.
As he took his seat they began discussing the performance of the new armor and weapons produced by the Prince's new smiths. They all came to the same consensus fairly quickly. The new weapons and armor were lighter and more durable than before. There wasn't much to discuss left and Willam had only gone out to meet Yoren's company as a formality in truth their work was done all that was left was to return to Runestone with the prisoners for processing.
Still, he didn't mind his own task instead he simply did it without complaint. After a few hours, all of their affairs were in order. Simply routes planned, prisoners secured, and all stolen valuables sorted and contained. It took them only two quick days to move back to Runestone.
The nearby towns had grown much more than they had ever been. What had once been a few villages and a few medium-sized towns were now much larger. It had grown due to the efforts of none other than the prince himself. From attractions like games of baseball, soccer, and other sports to several growing industries the entire territory under house Royces command had seen a boom. What was once hills and mountains covered in trees and full fields of tall grass had been cleared and reused for all sorts of things.
Its mountainous lands which had once been far less suitable for farming than other parts of the realm like the Reach. Now it was covered with layers of terrace farming which produced plants with seeds straight from Highgarden. Layers upon layers of all types of crops like wheat, barley, potatoes, corn, tea, and even grapes. They even grew at a consistently faster rate which to most appeared to be the blessing of the old gods thanks to several newly planted and growing Weirwood trees. Not the several wooden and metal posts near the plants that had runes etched into them. Nor the several scarecrows that also had runes carved into their wood. After all rune magic had long ago left these lands and even though they still held some protective power only the old ones worked.
But Weirwood trees weren't the only ones available as several large tree farms had been set up. Thanks to that extra lumber all sorts of quality carpentry pieces began being created and exported. The excess plants also allowed for new exports like whiskey which had been created recently and a few more things of course. They sold well not just because they were high quality although they were but also because they were backed by the reputation of not just one but two princes.
Not mention that there wasn't just an increase in profit from crops and crafts but also in the production of meat as well. Herds of sheep, cows, and goats had been expanded even new herds of domesticated audochs had been started. The bovine creatures that had been on the verge of extinction were now making a reemergence in Runestone. Although large herds of sheep were common before their numbers had grown to ridiculous amounts. However thanks to the consistent presence of three or four dragons there were no problems with over-grazing. Obviously, the new pens and chicken barns which also had runes on them had nothing to do with this only a blessing from the gods.
Then thanks to the brand new salt pans on the nearby coast and new pepper plants they had other exports besides crops to go with the meat. Plus the salt was also used as an important preservative for sea voyages.
Besides it was nothing out of the ordinary for house Royce. Each of its members learned to write runes as children even if they didn't work anymore. They even still put it on their bronze armor even though the rest of the realm used newer stronger metals like steel. That metal had also been produced much more frequently in Runestone than it had been before and although the quantities were higher it hadn't lost any quality. In fact, some of it had increased to be completely stainless or so they say.
There were even rumors that the prince had his own secret forge underground full of all sorts of strange experiments. From strange devises and odd potions to even glass far clearer than any produced in Myr. They even say that in the Prince's own chambers within the castle walls, he has a mirror tall enough to see himself head to toe clearer than any other in the whole world.
However, this secret place is also said to be responsible for other new inventions over the years. For example the new seed drills, iron plows, steel plows, mechanical reapers, and even spring-tooth dump rakes along with a plethora of other inventions. Manh pies have tried their best to steal information, designs, and construction methods for new tools from Runestone. Nearly all were executed by either sword or dragon fire but a few did succeed. Leading to the creation of several lesser imitations and greatly reduced quantities of tools. Much to the anger of most lords who desire one of them but couldn't obtain one.
But that was all hearsay of small folk what was tangible was the expansion of the ports of Runestone funded by all their new products. House Royce had always refused to use the large ports of Gulltown nearby as they had no desire to be beholden to House Grafton. Gull town may have been the major port city of the Vale. But now Runestone had its own large port expanded from the smaller ones it used to use. Although it wasn't Gulltown's equal yet, they were greater than ever before. These new larger ports became back bone of several other new products flooding the markets of Westaros over the years.
But of course, there was the problem of manning all of the new farms and factories that had been built. There was no lack of workers coming in, small folk and villagers, farmers and maidens. Families from nearby towns and villages in Royce territory have traveled far for new work that pays well. And why wouldn't it? After all, it's backed by an ancient house and two princes. Plus they even allowed some to farm the land even though it still belongs to them. They provide it housing, and supplies to farmers all so generously and all they ask is the lion's share of the crops. Why not give it to them? After all, they'll buy the rest of it for more than it sold for before. And a few silver coins can support a family for months if they use them right. They'll even have plenty left over for all the games and amusements in Runetown.
But even then it's not quite enough people. Their army has been expanded after all and they're always training these days those Royce men these days. Not to mention the formation of these new orders of knights the Rune Worderns founded by none other than the prince of Runestone himself. Although he may be young he is not untested in battle either. Sure he's never been to real war before but he's been participating and leading a few of the raids on the nearby mountain clans himself. It's even rumored his lady mother sometimes joins the fighting herself when she's not busy or hunting. She does love to hunt and the forest and mountains and even the lush green hills have been almost entirely cleared of tribesmen.
Instead, they've been put to work for the Royces. Not as slaves of course, there are no slaves in the seven kingdoms after all. Many of them join the Prince willingly after seeing his control over the dragons. They dedicate themselves to him as their new God or as the chosen of the old gods. It varies from clan to clan but for many, they willingly brand themselves with the mark of House Targaryen. Others require a bit more convincing but make it there but for those who don't, there is another path. Not slavery of course, no that would be illegal. Instead, they rely on a still legal but rather old-fashioned tradition of the first men. That being thralldom.
This doesn't apply to the children of course, but more to the newborn children who are all now raised in orphanages or in public nurseries. Those institutions were also generously provided by house Royce and run with the help of kind and loyal subjects of the crown and the royal family. Gathered by Prince Daemon himself, who even occasionally over the years has recruited a few from these very lands into his personal service. These educated women and loyal men come from all over but mainly the capital of the seven kingdoms, and the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, an island colonized and fortified as the westernmost outpost of the Valyrian Freehold.
Dragonstone and its loyal retainers have also seen a massive boom in their economy thanks to the beneficial trade deals with Rhnestone. So the current prince of Dragonstone has been happy to provide the staff for the reduction of the newly acquired workforce and their children. Especially in the ideas of divinity of dragons and dragon riders blessed by the old gods with such great powers.
But recently it hasn't been all benefits. No. Although there have been small problems here and there, all the members of House Royce have their duties. It has been running smoothly even when important members like the prince need to leave for Kingslanding or the Eyrie in the Mountains of the Moon on the shoulder of the Giant's Lance thousands of feet high.
But the most irritating and most recent thorn in the side of this near-great house is not on its own lands. Rather it remains at sea, recently a group of rather pesky pirates harassing the Stepstones. These pirates were led by the infamous Craghas Drahar, called Craghas Crabfeeder, or just the crabfeeder for short. Along with a mysterious and seemingly mad brain behind the operation, Racallio Ryndoon, a devious Tyroshi captain-general. Both of them appeared in the Stepstones after many ships from the seven kingdoms began refusing to pay the increasing Triarchy taxes on goods passing through the area.
The Triatchy of course, denies any connection to the pirates but rumors suggest that the new pirate band was being funded by the alliance of three free cities. A terrible situation for not only the series of islands, but also for any ship that passes by the area. There have even been raids on several smaller Westarosi settlements by these raiders.
Runestone wasn't the only house to complain to the king about this. House Velaryon led by its lord Corlys Velaryon, had also been petitioning the king for aid against the Triarchy. Despite this, the king had refused to act against them.
But today this wasn't the issue the prince of Runestone would have to deal with. Soon he would need to leave his lands and arrive in King's Landing with his father the master of Laws prince Daemon. So after he finished converting those wildling clansmen and all th other minor affairs of sorting through them. He decided to indulge in one of his new favorite hobbies, forging.
XXX
111 AC
Rune Town, Vermithos Forge
Aemon Targaryen
First Person POV
XXX
In a hidden forge underneath the bustling streets of Rune Town just outside Runestone Castle. I worked in my hidden forge with a few of my most trusted blacksmiths on a new blade. Heat washed across my skin from the forge not unpleasant but a distraction from my goal. Fumes rise and lift out of chimneys that I had installed to prevent suffocation. A hammer in my callused hand lifts and slams with perfectly controlled strength in one final blow on a red-hot blade. While the blade is still hot and in the perfect shape I set down my hammer and pick up the newest model of my favorite tool. A pen covered in glowing orange runes was created using my family's innate affinity for that type of magic and the system's abilities.
It had taken dozens of iterations over the years most requiring small mana crystals to work but not this newest version. I lift it but I don't take the time to examine it as I quickly carve the runes into the steel of the blade. The enchantments are inspired by various things from my past life. Sharpness, piercing, bleeding, and unbraking amongst a few others. But the most important part is the markings identifying who made it. It was a sigil my sigil a personal sigil on the base of the blade just above where the hilt will be.
Then my hands bere of tool or glove grab the red hot metal careful to maintain the shape. Then he dipped it into a nearby pool of water. The white steam rose with a hiss and then I lifted it back up. The newly forged weapon shines up at me and I examine its worth. It's of passing quality but then again nearly everything I make is of passing quality. Therefore it is unworthy of me but it'll suit one of the men.
'If only I could forge one of Valyrian steel.' I sigh and instead of finishing the weapon I call out for my favorite assistant in the forge to come grab it. The man is tall and he's older than me not quite my father's age but older than Ser Willam. His eyes like mine are purple and her hair is silver gold like mine.
The resemblance isn't a coincidence in fact it's because of this resemblance I sought him out. That resemblance is because this blacksmith is named Hugh. Also, claim the Targaryen name since he was born in Essos. To my surprise, we actually met before. He was one of the three sons of my great aunt Saera who put themselves forward during the great council of 101 AC. In truth, I didn't think he would be in the seven kingdoms yet but I always bother looking for him when I can during my trips to King's Landing. Eventually, I did find him and recruited him as I intended.
Hugh was recruited by me during one of my trips to Kingdlanding over three years ago but surprisingly his loyalty wasn't hard to earn. After all, I've embraced him as not just a member of my family but I've also brought him into the service of my house. Something most men in this day and age would literally kill for as House Royce has been quickly passing House Arryn in strength. Something I'm sure they're wary of especially with Jeyne as their head of house and Arnold Arryne Fostering here at Runestone. Despite that though I managed to keep friendly relations with Jeyne.
And by friendly relations, I mean blackmailing her about her newly blossoming relationship with Jessamyn Reddord. Sure I recalled it from cannon but walking in on the two of them kissing was frankly a stroke of luck that I'm grateful for. But enough about that matter today I've taken care of most of my affairs already. Instead, I need to set my eyes on the future.
I nod to Hugh telling him to finish the blade even though it's not what I was looking for. But before I can exit the underground forge a messenger comes down and informs me that one of the thralls attempted to rape a maid servant. I sighed knowing what I would have to do.
It didn't matter though I was ready and it wouldn't be the first time either. Normally mother would perform the duty as the regent but I've been made to do it myself since it was my idea to bring the thralls here. So I'll have to perform the execution myself. I don't bother sending common rapists much less wildlings ones to the wall.
I leave the forge and travel through a tunnel system under Runestone that leads back into my castle. It only takes me a few minutes to return to my room and call for Anna and the other maids to run a bath for me. After a few minutes, the hot water is ready and the girls begin to help me strip down. It's something I've grown used to over the years so I've lost almost all shame at my own nudity. I have nothing to be ashamed of anyway.
At just 14 years old I've grown to a height of 5'11 or 180.34 centimeters. Its not quite my father's feet tall get but I'm sure I'll surpass him by the end of the year. My physique has also been enhanced by my new and improved dragon knight body the evolved form of my previous dragon warrior body. That combined with my own rigorous training of my body and in the use of multiple weapons has given me the body of a Valyrian Adonis. My muscles are denser and more defined than anyone else I've seen so far in this world. Even most other knights have less definition than I do but I have modern training and exercises to rely on. That and I've recreated as much gym equipment as possible for my own use.
When I enter my marble bathtub it's no wonder the maids begin to blush and although none have tried anything yet, I've seen their looks as I've gotten older, and now in their minds I'm old enough to act on those urges. I haven't either yet as even though puberty has set in I've managed to control myself so far. Plus it's actually rather difficult for me to enter Rune Town unnoticed so no brothel for me. Instead, I have to tame my hormones which sometimes feels like riding an enraged dragon with no saddle. Especially since my body also passively enhances those aspects as well. It's a wonder I don't spend all night gooning but my willpower is quite strong.
I sigh again as another one of the servants switches to my toes. I ignore the wondering eyes of another and the slight hesitation in the hands of Anna as she washes down my back.
'Wouldn't it be better if I contemplated more of my future endeavors in King's Landing rather than my raging hormones or the impending murder I plan to commit. Well, it's not murder, it's execution, but the difference is negligible.' I turn slightly resting my head on a fist propped up on the baths edged. The servants shift around to accommodate me without complaint. I'm bored so planning might help alleviate some of it.
So a few things on my itinerary. Number one finish mapping out the tunnels in the Red Keep mentally. I've learned plenty but there is more I could learn and therefore I must. Number two continue to gauge Rhaenyra's interest in me. It's important that I can be considered someone she trusts in order to influence her. Plus if my father acts like the fool he is and gets our line disinherited. Then I'll have no choic but to find a way to act around his foolish decision.
'I have no intention of becoming a consort after all but a true king. That's what I promised her and that's what I'll be.' I sit up then stand suddenly some of the maids gasp. I ignore wondering eyes and red faces as I move back to my room. They begin to dry my chiseled figure as I continue to construct my mental list.
Number three convince Viserys indecisive ass to actually do something about the step stones problem before it cripples my kingdom's economy along with the others. Seriously what part of the Triarchy designating all trade routes to half the world did he not understand in canon? No matter. I will make him understand.
Number four is in truth more than just one thing. Reuniting those members of the Round Table knights while there and forming a true alliance is critical but not the only condition. Though my spy network in the Vale is rather effective it is nowhere near its full potential, as my attention is always being divided. So expanding one into Kings Landing with Larys help is key. Although my only worry is Mysaria but if she stands in my way I'll crush her like the white worm she is.
"Oils, colognes, then clothes," I say as I breathe deeply to calm the swirl of thoughts that starts up again as I focus back in on my list. The women move and I wait as they bring me pieces I already planned out earlier. What should number five be should I tame another dragon? Perhaps I should focus on procuring something else. Perhaps an alliance with the sea snake against the Triarchy although that is a given considering number three on the list. I sigh again ignoring the twitching caused by a wondering towel covered hand.
There is one other task I could complete but that needs to wait until a very specific moment. My ascension hinges on extremely delicate work and so it must be perfectly executed. Artfully even. For the death of Viserys Targaryen must wait until after that of his beloved wife. An unfortunate sacrifice but necessary. Aemma is a good woman but her distance in her current state places doubt in my former conviction. After all, if I wanted a baby Baelon to be king I could have just given the dragon warrior body to her in advance but I didn't. Because deep in my heart of hearts I know that I have always wanted it.
I have wanted the power and the grand legacy that comes with the Iron Throne. But as a small child, I was simply too afraid take it. I didn't want to die in the attempt not knowing if I'll get another life after this one. So I will not wait for Aemma to die only for her to be replaced in less than a month by some Hightower whore.
Alicent is a sweet girl or at least she was but that was seven years ago and shes been growing up in that pit of vipers we call a capital. So who knows if she's already become the hypocritical bitch or the suckling sycophant at her father's breast. Still, it doesn't matter if I can prevent her from becoming Queen and extend the time between Aemma's death, Alicent's marriage, and the birth of that drunken, usurper, cunt of a king with a conqueror's name. Well, things will just line up perfectly.
So I will reveal Otto's intent to Viserys, and when I am proven right. I will take the time to plot the end and the death of the current hand of the king. On top of that the line of succession will need to remain the same. I did actually manage to make my father and Viserys's relationship better by acting as a balance of sorts between them. This was aided by the help of Aemma and Rhaenyra's enduring fondness for me. A fondness my fool of an uncle shares.
When they are finished putting on all my oils, colognes, and the pieces of my outfit. Then gesture to my drawers for my necklaces. They open them and a variety that I have collected over the past seven years is shown to me. I could pick any of the bigger brighter ones, but for my next grim deed, I only ask for a simple gold chain.
When I'm done having it put own I finally allow them to touch my hair. It's grown out and I've allowed it to because Grany always loved my hair. So I haven't had it cut and instead it's gone down past my shoulders now. It's odd considering the short hair I had in my past life but if cultivators can have long hair so can I. I have them brush it out and use more oils on it as well wouldn't want any harmful dryness after all. After the basic care and comb is done I would let it hang free, but it'll probably get covered in blood, so instead I have them put it together in the style of a warrior braid.
I wave them back and pass over to the full-length mirror on the wall. I put my hand on my chin assessing my appearance. The clothes, the hair, even a quick sniff for my fragrance. Perfect. I take another moment to look at my face placing a hand along my jaw. And what a sharp jawline it is. I smile because I know for a fact that I'm not just handsome or above average. I even had perfect teeth in medieval times thanks to the toothbrush I made along with my floss. There's not even a single acne scar in sight.
My eyes flicker briefly to the woman behind me. Most of them are rather young. Twenty-somethings and late teens along with a few older women none over thirty-five. I know them, how could I not, most of them have spent several years of their lives doing this exact job. I see a few of them flushed even redder than when I was naked and sweaty.
"So what do you all think?" I say turning quickly to catch a few of them staring. But before any of them react Anna responds first.
"You look striking my prince."She says knowing I ask the question just to tease the girls.
'Oh well, I suppose testing them this morning will have to be enough. I sware she's always getting in the way of my fun this mother hen.'
I nod at her compliment and dismiss them. One of the bolder ones pauses at the door and looks back over her shoulder at me before turning again and sashaying away.
'God damn these hormones.' I think tucking away the rising dragon in pants makes one more comfortable. Bows are not the time for that anyway I have a wildling to execute. I make my way out grabbing a sword I left by my room's door and making my way to commit a grim deed.
It's a short horse ride atop Balerion's black back. The horse's base grew too I used a dragon warrior body on the horse to strengthen my bonded friend after asking the system if it would work. It calls me Aemon now not fucking child of fucking baby. I earned its respect after I killed my first man with a blade. It was a good development I was getting very tired of that.
Soon I arrive at the small group of knights just outside the bounds of Rune Town. Balerion slows with my mental command and when he stops I dismount from his saddle. I land hard but it doesn't hurt at all and I stand straight. I pet Balerion who nuzzles me back fondly. I laugh at his actions and I can feel him send the same fondness I have for him back to me. Our bond though not as strong as mine with Ancalagon. Is something that I will value for as long as we both live. I remember the day we met and Belarion was just a yearling. Now he's a grown adult horse of seven years and it's been hell trying to keep him from breeding every mare who comes close to him. I would laugh but right now laughter isn't exactly appropriate.
I leave my animal companion with a thought of how he should wait for me and not wander far. Then Ser Gerold atop Winnie the cave bear wandered up to me and he too dismounted. To my left, Hugh also joins us, and some give him strange looks but it's not for his appearance they've all seen him before. Rather it's the question if he should be allowed to join this group of knights when he is not one. I nodd and they all seem to get the message.
"So where is the prisoner?" I ask after greeting my men and my cousin. Ser Gerold leads me to the man after sending Winnie away. Instead, the great bear just flops down where he is to take a nap. The men chuckle, and Gerold sighs at the sleepy cave bear. But I just smile fondly at him because I can seldom bring myself to be angry with my animals. I think of them as my own children in a way, and I did raise them with a bit of help after all, even if I was a bit of an absent father the first few years.
I softly pet the bear's yellow-brown snout causing him to chuff quietly. Then Gerold and a few of the men accompany me to see the prisoner. A few guards greeted me with kindness and nods. My prince, they say but I just nod back and focus my attention on the tribesmen tied to a pole.
I see him there wild and ragged. I expected it would be one of the new batch Yoren's group would have brought in. But no it's not, my new brain doesn't forget a face, and this one is from the last raid. A shame that I never bothered to learn his name, but he wasn't one of the compliant ones. This little man, this pathetic savage is nothing but a nuisance. I do remember sorting him into a work group though one for a farm near the edge of Rune Town.
He's injured already as if he's been jumped. He's not unconscious though and he still stands straight enough to look me in the eye. He is struggling though and trying to say something but gagged so I can't fully understand whatever rubbish he's saying but that's fine as well. If he's smart then we'll both know the outcome of this.
"Some of our men found him tearing the clothes off some poor village girl. They beat him black and blue though, and brought him back here for judgment." Gerold says coldly as he steps up beside me to stare at the man. I can tell there is absolutely no compassion in his eyes for the raipist. A sentiment with which I wholly agree as I can already put together all the pieces of what happened.
"And the girl?" I say turning my head from the struggling tribesmen to look at my older cousin. I don't really care that much but I do need to cover all my bases.
"Safe we brought her back to the healer's just in case though." He says as I recall one of the new healers' huts in town that we sponsor. They're run by several young men sent to us by my great uncle Vaegon. These boys for one reason or another want to leave Oldtown and have enough knowledge to heal basic wounds. Plus we get them fully before they get here to prevent spies one of which we did catch that way. Now we have them help around towns and Villages. Primarily Rune Town which at this point after growing so much through the years will become an actual city soon enough.
"Good. So which clan is this one from or did he not tell you?" I'll need to know that for later after all if you punish the whole group for the actions of one they're more likely to help keep each other in line. But that's mostly just for the thralls. The clansmen who joined us willingly have been much more helpful. Some have become guards or paid workers of their own free will. Others have become integral parts of that growing spy network that I mentioned. Some go around masquerading as other clans to cause trouble for certain houses that haven't yet learned their place. The biggest part however have started a new clan in my name that worships dragons and dragon riders as the chosen of the old gods. Their will and fire made flesh and bone a notion which took a few years to build but has paid off immensely.
This new clan known as the Dragon's Scales have bullstered our house's forces by about 3,000 and has given us more workers as well. Hence why our territory is quickly on its way to gaining a city of its own whilst maintaining military dominance in the Vale. Something which my father has been using is his much closer bond with Viserys that I've been nurturing. To assure him that it isn't a problem or threat in the slightest, and Viserys has always been the kind of man who sees what he wants to see. Even against the wishes of Otto Hightower as well, which has been rather difficult in some cases.
"He's a milk snake and judging by the mark on his arm he's part of work group thirteen." He says looking down at the small marking on the thrall's arm. He was loyal enough to earn a full sigil brand so instead of a simpler mark to identify him. Frankly, although I don't treat them like actual slaves by using whips and chains it still bothers me to do this. Even so, it must be done to gain full control of the Vale. In direct levies and tribesmen, we have the Arryns beat by about two thousand but they still command the loyalty of many other Vale houses as well as ours outwardly. Now that I think about it that adds another task to my list as well.
"Well, they won't be happy. I'll have them be assigned some extra work as punishment." I say dismissing the thought trail and going back to the matter at hand.
"So will it be a beheading or will we have another spectacle today?" He says clearly remembering the display of draconic might I pulled off earlier.
"No I've already done a show of force today. Let them see the dragons too many times in they go from fire gods to giant animals." I say turning around and gesturing for two guards to come closer.
"Makes sense I'll bring him to the stage and have boys ready the block. Do you need a sword?" Gerold says turning with me and motioning for the two guards to untie the wildling.
"No this one will work just fine," I say patting the blade on my hip. I wear only one right now but it's one of my own personal blades. They're no Valyrian or Dragon steel but they're still good. At some point, I plan to take a trip to Qohor or search the system for a way to figure it out.
It doesn't matter now though as I wait for the stage to be set up I decided to take a wet stone to the blade just in case. It was a simple long sword with rune engravings and a black hilt, handle, and pommel. The enchantments were nothing too special just some added sharpness and durability as well as a mild bleeding effect. Thanks to the skill Rune forever which basically allowed me to create any rune that I already knew it wasn't the most difficult process. The hard part was placing those runes on an object myself every single time. Eventually after about a dozen models over the I figured out how to make my rune-making pens or just rune writers for short. After that, all I needed to do was make multiple of them give them to my new trusted craftsmen, and make the runes as subtle as possible when written on most objects.
That's what has allowed me to make such rapid progress so far when combined with my own understanding of runes. It turns out the runic language is actually the written form of the Old Tongue. Since some of the mountain clans still knew and spoke it I realised all I needed to do was get one to teach me. Which is what gave me the idea to start capturing and converting members of the mountain clans to my cause.
Not all of them needed to be forced, many came of their own free will to join me after receiving an invitation. But now there is one of them who simply couldn't abide by my new rules. They drag the wildlings up the steps as I wait for him quietly. I've stopped sharpening my already fine blade and wait for them to remove his gag. They do. Then they bring him over to an already prepared block.
He screams, he shouts, he curses, but in all truth, I do not care for what he says. They knock his knees out from under him and I stalk over to him my shadow falling over him like a dark cloud. A crowd has gathered now, some of my men, some civilians, some are even new loyal tribesmen. I turn my head back to the struggling wildling. He shouts at me haresy! That I am no god! That I am just a boy with strange tricks! Then when he sees that I don't care what he's saying his defiance crumbles in an instant. He changes his words, his tone, and his attitude all at once. He says that he has broken no rule or law because he stole from her fairly. But it was in my rules that there would be no stealing of any women who were not already born tribe women.
My face is cold, imperious, I don't let out even a shred of empathy for the fool. Not that I feel any for him he did the crime now he'll take the punishment. I survey the crowd one last time there is little chatter save for the people being informed why the man is being executed. But then I see her in the back trotting up on horseback. I was wondering where she was. Still in riding leathers and mounted atop a brown destrier with bloody bags and a bow strapped to her back is my mother.
Her attire suggests she just came back from another one of her hunting trips. The woman really loves that hobby more than anything. If I didn't know any better I would think she was one of Artemis's huntresses. Normally this would be her job but it was my idea as she often likes to remind me so I must do it myself. My mother's face is grim yet even with the passage of time and her doleful expression she is still beautiful. My father's ridiculous comments about her looks are still completely unfounded. How anyone could have believed them unsure but it doesn't stop him from bedding random whores I'm sure. But as I look into her orange-brown eyes I don't see the usual firmness but rather a hint of regret or perhaps pity. Not for the man about to die but for me. I don't have time to wonder why. It doesn't matter now anyway I have a task to complete. So I glance back down at the clansmen, unsheathe my sword, and plant it into the ground right next to his head bent over the block. I went with my usual words a classic reference to one of my favorite characters.
"If you have any last words… now is the time," I say and this time I do stop to listen, look him in the eyes, and I know that he deserves to die. So after he's done speaking I lift the rune-covered blade in my hand pointing its killing edge into the sky. Then I swing it down swiftly with both hands even though I really only need one.
I slash the motions easily for me. This isn't the first time I've taken a life. I've ended at least 20 this year alone. So don't hesitate, and why should I? He's just a background character, someone so irrelevant he doesn't even have a name in canon, just an NPC getting in the way. So if you finish the clean stroke quickly. There's a spew of blood and gore. His head flops down to the wooden floor with a wet thump. Then it nearly rolls off the stage before Gerold puts his foot on it to stop the movement but he lifts it quickly out of respect. I look down at his stump and briefly study the place where his head used to connect to his neck.
There are holes there for the trachea and esophagus. I severed his head right below the larynx and I can see the gaping void down his windpipe which is now filling with blood. It leaks all over the place as I wipe off my blade with the cloth handed to me. I noticed that a slight bit of bone from his severed clavicle has flown onto my shirt. I kick it off quickly.
'Got his blood all over my face and shoes too. Maybe a ding that extra bleeding effect to the blade was a bad decision. I'll have to test different enchants on other blades later so it won't be so hard to clean up. Plus I'll have to take another bath. Mother will or Anna will probably tease me about how frequently I take them again. How annoying.' But that doesn't matter right now as I turn and walk away. I sheath my sword again. I'll bother with a more thorough cleaning later. Besides I'm far too busy planning to worry about that now.
"Put his head in a bag show it to his work team explain their punishment and then put it on a spike for all to see."I quickly gave the commands to the men who came with me. They all nod hanging on my every word. Good to know they actually listen when I speak. I've doing my best from day one to run a tight ship whilst treating my men well.
'Nobody wants to die for a stranger after all.'
"Yes, my prince." One of the men responds quickly bending down to grip the severed head by the hair. They move the decapitated body and servants quickly rush in to clean up the blood and replace the block.
"Come Ser Gerold and someone call for Hugh we have a trip to kings landing to plan," I say as I walk back over to Belarion who has been waiting off to the side for me. My equine friend has stomped plenty of tribesmen to death himself so it's nothing new for him to see a human die. He doesn't even startle when one of my armored bears or shadow cats is near. I plan to start letting him breed soon so hopefully his offspring will be just as good of mounts as him. He is without both the biggest and fastest horse in the whole of the Vale at least and very likely the seven kingdoms if not the entire world. Hell breeders would probably actually kill people to get ahold of him and with his Dragon enhancements any of his foals will sell extremely well.
I remount him and start the short trek back to the castle. Father will probably arrive in a few hours and the cooks have been hard at work making some of the new dishes we're going to test out. Plus the caravan to Kings Landing still needs some setting up and won't arrive for some time after we reach the capital on Dragonback.
As the thought passes through my mind I can feel my three dragons stir and mentally warn me of something. I look up and spot Caraxes in the distance.
'The bastard is actually early for once. What a pain in the ass. This is going to be such a drag. I just know he'll complain about the food not being ready yet.' I sigh and tighten my grip on the reins. Without a yank or a work, Belarion knows what I want and picks up speed. But I can feel my mother's eyes still staring at me as I go. I wonder what she's thinking about it, but it doesn't matter though I have more important things to worry about.
[Chapter Image]
XXX
Hey guys I'm back with the new arc and a new chapter. I'm very sorry about the delay in the release so this time it's around 9,500 words making it once again my longest chapter yet. So let me know what you all think about it.
Also on a personal update happy new year I hope it's going well for you all because it's wild over here in America. Capturing foreign presidents while bumping Chief Keef is crazy but also hilarious but hey I guess that's just life.
On a more personal note, my trip to go see my family member got can I led because someone decided not to buy my plane ticket. After all, I made a joke about the trip being kinda depressing. So I'll probably never see my family member again before they die but the silver lining is that I did get Crunchyroll so that's cool.
Anyway, life is good you know what I mean also what do you guys think of the new cover? Is it cool is it lame did you like the last one better? I'm always open to respectful feedback so remember to comment like whatever and drop a few power stones. I'll see you all next time.
Also, that new project is underway if anybody cares about that.