Sorry! I would have had this up earlier, but I lost the file and had to rewrite the whole chapter! This moth will focus on A Song Of Ice and Fire: Honor Of A House. August will focus on Pokemon: Hold The Heathen Hammer High, which will hopefully remain as popular as it has been. I thank you all as always, and please forgive me for lacking updates wise. JIRO
Back in King's Landing, Varys the Spider exhaled calmly, prepared to recount the battle of Storm's End to King Joffery. A great pleasure filled him at the thought of the king's reaction, and he yearned for it. He opened his mouth, trying to hide a cruel smile, as he recounted the tale in detail.
"Reports come in of a battle at Storm's End. Apparently, Aegon Targaryen the Sixth, previously thought dead, was alive and well and in full control of ten thousand skilled military class troops, which he used to conquer the Stormlands, the ancestral home of House Baratheon. He attacked Storm's End itself, but met unusual resistance." He began, his arms folded in front of him. "If reports and rumors are true, a man beast in the form of a stag who called himself Indro Durrendon led a thousand shark man beasts into battle, and held the upper hand. When he began to lose, a force of impressive description appeared, barreling from the forest like a mountain clan raiding party." He said.
"First was a dwarf dragon man beast named Fafnir, accompanied by a huge hammer wielding dwarf named Hamar Af Doom. Another dwarf, this one also a vampire, began to battle, and their allies consisted of Tzimisce Frostfang, a White Walker Chieftan, A dark elf female with enough magickal power to set five men aflame with a thought. But, the rest of the party is what should be the most prominent of the information." He said, smiling slyly.
"First was Shango Phunraz, a liger man beast of epic power, who slaughtered a Hrakkar, or white Dothraki lion, man beast with a disadvantage in age and experience. Upon hearing this, I grew wary, as the Phunraz have defeated and taken control of the north, and The Neck, and each time, reports come in of man beasts in their army. A spy near Winterfell who was killed soon after also reports Brienne of Tarth and Sandor Clegane having joined their forces, along with your uncle, Lord Tyrion, and your former fiancée, Sansa Stark." He said. He saw Joffery twitched at the mention of the taller woman, and he smiled.
"The other two people there were Bran Stark and Arya Stark." He said. Cersei paled slightly, and Jaime seemed unnerved. "How is that possible? The boy is crippled." She said. The court was empty, save for Varys, the Lannisters and Joffery's wife. Varys chuckled. "We are all full aware that he was pushed from that window, and survived. Oksana, a much older Phunraz family member, used unknown means to heal him, and my final spy stated that he was fully healed by a combination of magick from Aeron Greyjoy, and the act of mating." He said. Cersei frowned. "Mating?" she asked. Varys nodded.
"Yes. You see, Bran and Arya were seen in the shape of quite large wolf man beasts. If my spy was correct, and he wasn't disemboweled for nothing, Arya would not have becoming a man beast if not for her mating with Bran. It seems the boy known to some as The Winged Wolf can spread his ability to others through a bite. The girl is a threat, as she is a Faceless Man as well, and was able to penetrate the castle to help Tyrion and Sansa escape." He said, pursing his lips to avoid smiling. Joffery snarled, and Varys held a hand up. "That is not all." He said, whistling. A man walked in, disheveled and coated in wounds. "Tell them what you told me." He said, smiling. The man grunted, but kneeled and rose. "Your Grace, I witnessed something horrible, and foreshadowing." He began.
"Another creature was there. It was called Pip, and it's gender was indeterminable by appearance. My brother grew out of control, and attempted to rape the creature. The one known as Shango appeared to care for the creature, as he went berserk when he heard the creature scream. But, a third wolf man beast, over twice as tall as my brother, who was no short fellow, attacked him, biting him in half with one flexing of its jaw." He said. Joffery frowned. "And how does this affect me any?" he asked. "I believe I have identified the creature." He said. "You see, I spoke to Catelyn Stark before her death, and she said the bones of Ned Stark were too small to be true. And even his head, hanging petrified at the wall, bore little resemblance to him. And so, this leads me to the conclusion that the massive, powerful man beast that tore my brother in pieces was infact, Eddard Stark." He said, head bowed.
Joffery went still, as did Jaime and Cersei. A look of despair passed between the two siblings, and a smile of dark, sickening proportions crossed the eunuch's features. The eunuch turned, heading toward the door. "If Ned Stark is running rampant and without reason in the Stormlands, then consider that territory forbidden grounds, or you'll lose many a man. Especially if he's aware of the state of his family." He said, walking from the door. He heard cracks and pops on the other side of the door, then a roar, and a scream. He knew it. Two generations of inbreeding brought it back in full. Varys laughed, hoping the cub knew what he was, and what he was doing.
Across the narrowest of seas, Grandpa Lion sighed. He looked to the small bed, which held the unconscious Daenerys Targaryen. He sighed. Her body was unaccustomed to the power it now held, and she had been unconscious for two days. He was now on a ship across the sea, and made sure that he'd arrive in the Stormlands specifically, to see how Indro was doing. He looked to her, chuckling. She was only in her early teens, and, like most Bitten therians, should only experience her First Change after puberty, at roughly sixteen to eighteen years of age. Born therians remained in their therian forms from birth to up to two years, and he very rare animal born therians experience their First Change at roughly half a year. However, there was dragon blood in her veins, which made her shift immediately. It would be painful, especially with her horrible physical condition. He sighed again, and heard her groan. She opened her eyes, and slowly tried to sit up.
She turned to the ancient man, who sat in a small chair in the wooden ship cabin. She frowned. "Where are we?" she asked. He looked about the room. "On a cabin in a ship. We are dormant, as I am waiting for my allies to retrieve a few artifacts and retrieve your dragons, then we shall be off to claim the Iron Throne, or at least get you to Winterfell." He said, shrugging. She looked down to her body. "Did it work?" she asked. He nodded. "Of course. You envisioned a black, fire breathing dragon, and that's what you got. A bit small though, as you aren't the tallest of women." He said, chuckling. She frowned. "How tall was I?" she asked. He sighed, sitting back.
"Roughly seven and a half feet tall. But that's normal for someone of five feet in height. You'd be larger, but most female weredragons put more into the shape of their body, instead of size, as dragons are supposed to be alluring and captivating." he said, seeming unhappy with his own statement. She frowned. "How big will I be in ten years, or twenty?" she asked. He sighed. "Well, seeing as how we'll be on a ship for a long while, I see no reason why I can't whet your curiosity." He said. "You'll likely finish growing at roughly ten feet, which is normal. However, females can grow to be twelve feet tall, and males get up to three feet taller. Males are normally heavily muscled, and their scales are designed like armor, while females choose to have more silky scales normally." He said. She frowned. "And my future husband?" she asked. He laughed. "Shango? He's always been quite large." He began.
"On average, a lion gets to twelve feet tall, and most tigers are smaller. A group of northern tigers however, can be slightly larger than lions at twelve and a half to thirteen feet. Ligers, especially of Shango's pedigree, can be bigger than both. As my descendants are the only ligers, I can't give you an estimate. Maynhard is over fourteen feet tall at least, and Shango's already at twelve feet, if not larger." He said. She frowned, appearing nervous. "Can you give me an estimate of any sort?' she asked. He hummed. "I'd say fifteen feet, but knowing Shango's inability to be predictable, he might be even larger than that. A proper term for ligers is 'those bear sized cats'." He said. She frowned. "Are there other dragons?" she asked.
He gave her a glum look, as though he knew she wouldn't want the answer. "There were. Plenty. Until Dragogh became smitten with the prospect of being called Dragogh the Forsaken, which he believed would require him to be the only dragon." He said. "Who is Dragogh?" she asked. He laughed. "A foul lizard to be sure. He is a Mirror Dragon, meaning his scales reflect the light around them, like mirrors. He is the oldest thing on this planet, and he believes the strongest. Last I saw him, he was fifteen feet tall, but knowing him, he'd have somehow increased his size somehow." He said. "But, there is Fafnir. He is a dwarf friend of mine. He grows to five and a half feet tall, I think, and he's just as wide. And he is quite amusing to see in battle." He said. She managed a small smile.
"What about the largest," she began, trailing off. "Therian?" he piped in, and she nodded. He chuckled. "Well, the largest living therian I know of is my friend Bjorn Staersta Bjorn, who is a cave bear. Now, seeing sixteen foot tall white bears is one thing, but seeing Bjorn is something else. He was a cave bear, and held a bluish hue, and stood at a full twenty feet tall." He said. She seemed taken back. "Wouldn't it cause a lot of strain being that large?" she asked. He shook his head. "Bears are slow to anger, so he normally doesn't fight. But, when he does, the energy generated just from being angry is enough. His human form is ten feet tall, as too much size gain can cause too much strain, and you could possibly kill yourself mid shift." He said.
"You said he was the largest living therian, what about the largest one you've ever seen?" she asked. He sighed. "Why, that would be my old friend and mentor Behemoth In The Sands. He was an extinct creature called a Stegodon. Now, you must picture these thirteen foot tall, sixteen thousand pound elephant like creatures in themselves, and then the fact that they have nearly ten foot long, almost straight tusks that cause their trunks to drape over them. Now, make that a man. His human form was thirteen feet tall, and his therian form was Twenty-five feet tall, with eighteen foot long tusks. Of course, the old sage was found killed years back. We never found the killer, but reports say he was a werelion, and a familiar one at that." He said. She nodded. He sighed. "You should get some more rest. I'm going to get your dragons." He said. She frowned. "Don't you have people doing that?" she asked. He nodded. "Yes, but Fisi doesn't like it when panthers enter her domain." He said.
She frowned. "Fisi?" she asked. He nodded. "Yes, Fisi. Fisi is a Spotted Hyena female in control of the jackals near the pyramids your dragons perch upon." He said, walking out. Before he did, he turned to her slightly. "Know this little girl. Know that you are a dragon, Dragogh will want you daed. I am to make sure that never happens. However, abusing your authority and power will only draw him closer to you. I will not allow you to be rash. Lions are wild, and don't take orders very well." He said, closing the door behind himself.
Back in Winterfell, Shango sighed. He called his family and friends over, to discuss business. "As you all can plainly see, either Stannis is not coming, or he's being quite slow." He began. "And as such, I've decided to ignore him. A raven came to me, saying that all hells broke loose at the Wall. I planned on ignoring the wall, but this is serious. Bowen Marsh, or whatever the fuck his name is, and a group of Watchmen just attacked and stabbed Jon Snow because he planned on trying to reclaim Winterfell in the name of House Stark. A giant across the wall, Wun Weg wun Dar Wun, may be in possession of Jon. Ghost's fate is also unknown. I plan to head to the wall to find him and bring him back, and punish any who are responsible." He said. Bran had a fist clenched, and frowned.
"I'm going." He said, and Arya giggled, seconding his statement. Shango sighed. "Fine. Make sure you keep up. Loki and the wolves are coming with us, as we can use the force." He said. Vasili frowned. "Why can't I go? Or Haakon?" he asked. Shango frowned. "Are you in possession of your animal form?" he asked. Vasili frowned, remaining silent. Haakon folded his arms, glaring. "That doesn't mean anything." He said. Shango frowned. "Father is in control. You and every available archer are to prevent anyone from taking Winterfell in the event Stannis get it in gear and attacks. Or, I'll have Hamar and Wolverine head to Dragonstone, without you." He said, frowning. The two began to grow angered, and a chuckle stopped them. They looked to Sandor Clegane, who surprisingly, wore no armor. And, standing next to him, Brienne of Tarth was in a similar state. "You two are kittens. Why don't you leave the real work to the bigger cats." He said. Haakon frowned. "Watch what you say human." He snarled. Sandor chuckled, a dry sound that was darker than it should have been.
"You really think I'm human? Do you honestly think any of your allies are human?" he asked. Vasili frowned. Shango nodded. "Sandor, Brienne, you're with us." He said, and they nodded. Shango looked about. "Pip, you're coming too, and so is the dragon." He said. The dragon, laying on the cold stone ground, opened his eyes, and stood, now the size of a large dog. Shango looked at his force, chuckling. "Let's go." He said, and they all nodded.
Once outside the walls of Winterfell, Bran frowned. "It'll take a long time to reach the wall. It took Jon a week on horseback, I believe." He began. Shango chuckled. "That's if you stop. If you can shift into an animal form, do so now. If not, get on the back of an animal and don't stop. If we run with no stopping, we should be able to reach the wall in two days." He said. They nodded.
The group began moving, holding their formation. Shango ran at the head of the group in his liger form, flanked by Summer and Nymeria. Behind them was Shaggy Dog, with Bran and Arya atop him, and he was flanked by Brienne and Sandor. Sandor was a war dog, and extinct breed of massive canines that were taller than most men on their hind legs. He was in his fourth form, the near animal form, and was the size of a horse. His muzzle was short, and his fur was completely brown in color, almost like a modern day Rottweiler. To Shaggy Dog's other side was Brienne, a brown bear of impressive size. She moved at the same speeds, as they moved at a leisurely pace, because if they didn't, Shango would be much faster. Loki ran at the back of the group, with Pip on his back, and the dragon overhead. The Dark of Night came, and then the bright day. And by the next bright of day, the wall came into view.
Upon reaching the Wall, Shango gave orders to enter therian form. Each therian shifting, the group became an intimidating sight. Reaching eight feet tall, Bran shook the snow from his auburn fur. At seven and a half feet, Arya repeated the action, cleansing her gray fur of snow. Sandor remained much larger than average, standing at twelve feet tall, and with thicker limbs than some other dog breeds. Brienne was always large, and her therian form proved that. The largest of the group, her therian form of a massive brown bear stood at fourteen feet tall, and stood out the most. Shango was nearly thirteen feet tall, and gestured to the wall. The group followed, Pip, remaining shielded by the group. Once across the wall, Shango snarled to them. His voice was much more gravelly, and throaty. "You have one objective. Find Jon Snow. Kill everyone else on the principle that they aren't him." He said, and they all nodded. He roared, and they charged.
Barreling through the snow, they met a large group of Night's Watchmen, appearing to be returning from a recon mission or something similar. One of them screamed, and panic fell about them as the massive forms of the group came upon them. Sandor backhanded one of them, the snap of his neck satisfying. Bran bit onto the flesh of another, tearing an arm from him. Arya barked happily, her large clawed foot trailing across the face of another. Swords were drawn, and the rest of the group came upon them. Nymeria leapt, sinking her jaws into a man's arm, where Shaggy Dog pounced upon his chest and sunk his large teeth in. He rolled his head, pulling his throat out, staining his black muzzle with crimson liquid.
Summer leapt at another man, biting his hand. The crunch of bone and scream let him know he hit his mark, and he let go, moving back. Loki pounced on him, the seven hundred pounds of lion too much. Loki moved to another man, slapping him with his paws, where The massive hand of Brienne cleaved him in twain. Shango ducked down, rolling and swinging his foot in a circle, the force sending each man slamming into the next. The rest of the men, only three in number, attempted to retreat. Shaggy Dog leapt at on, biting his hair. He yanked him down, where Summer clamped his large jaws down on his throat. Nymeria sank her teeth into the arm of the second, rolling her body to tear the flesh from his arm and kick the third, knocking him off balance. Shango approached, now in human form, and looked down at the man. "Now, can you help me? I was wondering if you knew where Jon Snow was." He said. The man, fearful of Shango, stammered. "Yes. He was last seen as Castle Black I believe." He stated, and Shango smiled. The other man had screamed and went silent, likely due to Shaggy Dog's jaws.
Shango nodded. "Alright. Then we are off to Castle Black." He began, and turned to the man. "Thank you for your troubles my good fellow." He said, nodding to the man before walking round him. Sandor followed, as did Brienne and Arya. Bran followed close behind, with each of the animals on their ways as well. The dragon however remained for a while, sitting atop the quivering man. It tilted it's head, closing in with it's jaws, which were slightly larger than a wolf's. It's eyes, piercing orbs of turbulent grays, blues and yellows, almost like a ocular storm, peered down at him. It's lips peeled back, and it snapped it's jaws down, silencing the man for good.
Upon reaching the location called Castle Black, they saw the giant roaring, attacking droves of black cloaked men who tried to attack him. In his hand was the limp body of Jon Snow, and the direwolf known as Ghost stood next to the giant. Instinct kicked in, and the therians shifted and charged, barreling at the men from behind. A scream alerted them to the therians, but it was nearly too late.
Shango reached them first. In a blind rage, he slammed his fists down, the crunching of bone on his paws satisfying. He peeled his lips back, bringing his claws up, tearing more men in pieces. As he stood, he contorted his form, becoming near human, and punching a man. He leaned away from a sword, and extended his leg out, knocking the man back. Rolling, he raked his claws across three more men, who fell back from the pain. He grabbed a man by the throat, swinging him like a cudgel, snapping his neck as he struck a second man. He jabbed his hand out, striking the throat of another man, crushing his airpipe. He threw the dead man, watching him knock more men back. He swung his fist out, spun around the man, kicking another, and then finally slamming his hands into the chest of a third. He snarled, seeing even more men coming their way.
Being the shortest therian, Arya had an advantage. She swung her claws, and a man grunted, knocked back. Nymeria jumped, clamping her jaws around his throat. She kicked another man as hard as she could, and the blood that erupted from his lips was a symbol that it was a good kick. Snarling, she clamped her jaws around the throat and chest of another man, tearing his arm clean off. Spitting it out, she grabbed another man and threw him, her skill in combat coming in handy. A man jabbed at her with a sword. She leaned to the left, dropping down and swinging her leg at his. He fell, and Nymeria clamped down on his face, and he screamed in horror and pain. Jumping over the wolf, she bounced over two unsuspecting men, snatching one of their swords. The weapon was heavier than she'd have though, but was nothing for her increased therian strength. She swung, cleaving the head from another man, and smiling sickly.
Bran had stolen a sword, and moved fast. He parried, jabbing his hand out at another man, grabbing him and slamming him into the first. Rolling, he ducked under another strike, coming up with a slash that knocked him back, blood spraying about, coating the blade and the snow, and leaking from the wound onto his clothing. Rolling, more blood splattered the snow as Bran cut across a man's collarbone, and he fell. Bran leaned away from a swing, jabbing at the chest of another man. The blade was embedded in his chest, and he replaced it with his victim's blade. He rolled, parrying with another man, grasping the second blade in his hand, and tearing it from the man's chest. He swung the second blade, cutting deep into the man's shoulder, causing him to cry out. It was a sickening sound that stopped with a second swing, which tore into his face, killing him.
Brienne and Sandor surprisingly made a great team. Sandor kicked a man in Brienne's direction, which she caught and crushed in her paw. He other paw came down, slapping a man who went flying across the field, crashing hard in the snow, coating it with blood. The Hound snarled, punching a man who managed to cut his leg with a blade. The man's skull cracked and contorted, the force so devastating, he hit the ground before his teeth did. He hoisted another man over his head, clenching his paws and tearing him in half. Roaring, Brienne did the same, only with two men. Over a hundred more men came their way, and they looked to each other. Deciding their size was a hindrance, they returned to human form, using the Man Beast fighting Art, a special fighting style created for therians, by therians. Brienne slammed her fist into a man's skull, and he fell back, where she grabbed the man's sword and jabbed it into his chest. The woman was surprisingly quick, jabbing a man in the throat, spinning and cutting another down with a slash to the chest, and jabbing again, this time at Bowen Marsh himself. The man had attacked, and her blade's tip sunk into his chest. She groaned, pushing it in slowly, purposefully, and with increasing pleasure.
The men depleted in number almost too quickly for their liking, and minor wounds were sustained. Shango frowned, flicking blood from his claws as he walked up to the giant. He spoke to the giant in the Old Tongue, a language which Shango was fluent in. The giant nodded, and they all gathered up. Shango frowned, noticing that Pip and the dragon had gone missing. Shango grumbled. "Children, always so troublesome." He stated, and flexed his nostrils. The lack of scent was beginning to worry him, and then he heard a screech. He turned in the direction of the sound, seeing the dragon bite into a man who had cut Pip's shoulder. He brought the group to the scene, sighing. "That's it. From now on, you stay back in Winterfell. I figure you can be Rickon's friend, try to civilize him." He mused, and Pip frowned. Arya did too. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. Shango rolled his eyes. "Rickon is a little less than civilized. He spent time in Skagos, where Shaggy Dog fought a unicorn, and no offense, he's a little less then civil looking at the moment." He said, turning. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
Zillah, can you hear me? He asked telepathically, and waited for a reply. It soon came. Yes I can Cat. What do you want? She asked. He chuckled. Can you transport us back? We have Jon and the giant. He stated. She grumbled, but complied. They were transported back instantly, the transport causing upset stomachs in the lesser experienced members of the group. Shango frowned. He issued orders quickly, making sure Jon got the best care. Once the bastard was in a room, his wounds were examined by Oksana. "At least twenty separate knife wounds, some of which are surprisingly dragonglass. I believe enough treatment of the wounds with herbs and magick would be fine, and he does possess therianthropy, but it is dormant. Awakening it might also help." She said. He nodded. "Have Aeron use his magicks. Can you take care of the herbs and awakening of his therianthropy for me?" he asked nonchalantly, as though changing the species of half dead people was normal for him. She nodded.
Outside, Shango sighed, and turned his head. The dragon remained asleep, as it had as soon as they arrived. He sighed. He walked over to the dragon and sat next to it, frowning. "You know boy, you need a name." he said. The lizard exhaled through it's nose, disregarding Shango. He chuckled. "I should name you Aerys after the Mad King just to stick it to the Lannisters, but I'm not that cruel. Daenerys Targaryen has three dragons, which are only wyverns from what I hear. Their names are Drogon, after her former husband Drogo, Viserion after her brother the Beggar King, and Rhaegal after her stillborn son. So they are all named after family members of hers that have passed on. I don't if I have any family members that passed on, nor do I really care. I think Grandfather is likely the first lion, if not one of the first. So, what kind of name do you want?" he asked. The lizard opened it's eyes halfway, then closed them, remaining comfortable on the cold ground. Shango chuckled.
"You seem to refuse to speak to me. Not even a screech. I should call you stubborn." He said. The dragon exhaled. "Fine. How about Sparky?" he asked. The dragon frowned. "Flaps?" he jeered, and the beast opened it's eyes. "Mr. Fluffykins?" he asked. The scaled beast lifted his head, lifting half his brow ridge at the demeaning name. "Alright. What about Tortima?" he asked. The dragon lifted it's eyes and placed a clawed finger to his chin as if deep in thought. He nodded, turned and laid down, his back to Shango. The liger laughed, turning to the rest of Winterfell. It seemed eerily peaceful, and he knew it was too good to be true. He rolled his bare feet against the stone, and felt. A massive vibration came back, and it wasn't too far away. He cursed, vaulting to his feet. He roared, catching the settlements attention. "Stannis is close by! Prepare for battle!" he yelled, running to Loki. On the Hrakkar's sides were his weapons, an Arakh and broad bladed axe. His spear was still secured on his waist, and he grabbed Moonglade, hurling it to Bran, who caught it with ease. A second roar signaled to the Northern Mountain Clans, who began to pour out of the forest. They exited Winterfell, ready to make a stand.
When Stannis arrived, he frowned at the sight of the Phunreaz family leading a small army. "Who are you, and where is Roose Bolton?" he asked. Shango chuckled. "I'm Shango Phunraz, of House Phunraz, allies of House Stark. If you cared, Roose was killed, impaled through the arse with a pike." he said. Stannis frowned. "And where is House Stark?" he asked. "Under outr protection. As is Storm's End." he said, trying to provoke a battle. Stannis frowned. "What have you done with Storm's End?" he asked. Shango laughed. "Gave it back to House Durrendon." he said. Stannis seemed irritated. Melisandre, the Red Preistess, smiled.
"You should be careful how you tread, because-" she began, but was cut off. "Yes, yes. The night is dark and full of fucking werewolves. Literally." he said dryly. She frowned. "Don't cut her off." Stannis said. Shango promptly put up his middle finger, a blank look on his face. "Fuck off old man. I'll tell the Whore what do you whenever I feel, and you can't stop me. Hell you can't even control your unrelated nephew." he said, and Stannis reared his horse. "Attack!" he called, and Shango smiled. He roared, axe and Arakh drawn, and propelled forward.