Lord Rickon Stark stood at the high seat, eyes colder than the stone beneath him.
"Why ask access to our crypts?"
The woman, hood down now, revealed sharp Valyrian features. Not Targaryen, but close. Perhaps a bastard.
"Because something sleeps there," she said, calm as falling snow. "And the South will come for it."
Cregan watched from behind a column. Unseen. Listening. Remembering.
The Boltons claimed neutrality. But their every word hinted at deeper schemes. Cregan knew he had to understand his own bloodline to survive what was coming.
[Simulation Ready]
Choose a Simulation:
Investigate your maternal heritage in records and stories.
Seek guidance from the weirwood through meditative trance.
Train stealth and listening through shadow practice.
He picked the first.
[Simulation Running...]
You slip into the library at night. The maester snores below. You open scrolls, dusty tomes. You find mention of a servant girl from the Wolfswood. Of a bear-cloaked man she loved.
The girl bore a son with grey eyes and a direwolf birthmark. The records are faded. But her name appears in a Stark ledger: Lyarra Snow.
And beside her—a mark. Not Stark. But First Men. Old Blood.
[Simulation Complete]
Knowledge Gained:
Maternal Lineage: Descended from Old Blood clans of the Wolfswood.
The name Lyarra is tied to an extinct line of skinchangers.
Trait Gained: Blood Memory (Lesser) – You are more likely to awaken latent gifts from your ancestry.
Accept? "Accept."
He closed the book. The fire flickered low. But within him, something began to burn.