Riverlands - 295 AC

Ahh... So this is what luxury feels like!

The black carriage has been on the road non-stop for about a day. With [Soul Eaters] pulling the carriage, they have no need to feed or take a rest at nighttime. But their guide is still human. Luckily for Momonga, the man is satisfied with not having to do much driving. [Soul Eaters], after all, are more intelligent than horses and follow direct commands. As it is currently at night, he can hear the man snoring in the driver seat. Shalltear wants to wake him up for being rude, but Momonga stops her, reminding her that humans have their drawbacks. Besides, there's no need to overwork that man. In Suzuki's experience, overworking is the great insidious killer of the corporate world; no need to repeat that here.

Wanting to relax for the trip, Momonga opens the window to the beautiful world outside. Stars shine bright in the sky, scattered as far as the eye could see. No smog, no acid rain, just the beauty of nature. Suzuki never expected to see such vistas in his life, but here he is as Momonga, enjoying what his old world had brought to ruins. With his [Dark Vision], he can see the forest lining the roads as clear as day. Trees both great and small, towering over the landscape. He can see small villages in the distance, most of their lights snuffed out for the night. Rivers run clear freshwater, one that could drink right from. And the air... Even without a nose, it still feels so crisp and clean, as if giving life back to his undead bones.

If the Three Great Corp. ever found such a haven... Well, I'd rather not think about it.

In the middle of the carriage is a pile of books taken from the Nazarick library Ashurbanipal. Though it's mostly full of copyright-free materials and in-game summoning tomes, there are other interesting books as well. In his hand is the book "The Time Traveller's Guide to Medieval England", about half-way done and full of dog-eared pages and sticky notes. Others deal with things such as politics, some books about economics, and a few about how to do business deals. Some of those were pirated into the library. Momonga was reluctant to do so back in Yggdrasil, citing the harsh punishments for digital pirates, but his friends assured him of their method's safety. And since none of them left due to getting arrested, it's proof of their success, whatever they did was.

Of course, I don't think copyright laws apply here... Right? Or does Nazarick still maintains that dreaded copyright system? God, I have to check that in the future...

Even so, Momonga is still unsure if reading these books will amount to anything useful. This world is not medieval Europe, if tales of dragons conquering the nations are to be believed. He had never seen these huge castles either, whether it was on Wikipedia or other encyclopedias. But everything from their armour, their mannerisms, their designs, all of it scream the familiar medieval fantasy. I'll have to get books on etiquettes then. Maybe they'll have it in that castle Riverrun.

It's easy for him to read without rest; being an undead has its perks. This will be his last book of the trip before he would need to reread all the earlier ones, all of which have little notes inside as well. But it's awkward to do this in the carriage. For most of the trip, Shalltear sat there across him, smiling and watching him read. Not a single word was uttered by her. Like a creepy porcelain doll, she doesn't even blink, making it quite an uncomfortable reading experience. Even writing notes felt embarrassing, as if someone was secretly scoring him.

Maybe...Maybe she's bored out of her mind? Does she hate being here and that's why she just keeps on staring at me? But, she was quite happy when I asked her to accompany me. He was initially thinking of bringing along the Seventh Floor's Guardian Demiurge; he's probably the smartest and most cunning of all Nazarick denizens. But he changed his mind: wouldn't it be strange to show his host people they're unfamiliar with? He needs to foster a good relationship, and for that reason he chose Shalltear. Makes sense as well for she was the one who conquered the castle.

Demiurge didn't take it as an insult. If anything, he praised Momonga for some unknown reason, citing his "great wisdom" in choosing Shalltear. He also helped Momonga placate Albedo who seemed... Agitated with Shalltear as his companion. For all he knows, there's some underlying issues between Shalltear and the Overseer. I know Albedo is technically her superior, but to have such a reaction to Shalltear is definitely strange. I'll have to find a way to deal with that later, but I don't know much about co-worker relationships. I was more of a loner in the previous world, at least in terms of the physical one. Online though...

That's it!

Momonga closes his book and looks at Shalltear. He reckons that with maybe enough small talk, he'll be able to find out what's making them tick. Maybe quench the apparent anger beneath that smile as well. "So, Shalltear."

She looks brightly at him, displaying her long fangs. "What is it, Momonga-sama?"

"Well, how goes the work on the castle?"

"Oh, it's going splendidly, Momonga-sama! It was hard gathering the materials, but with Mare's help, we should finish it in no time! I've been sending instructions with [Message] to my [Death Knights] through our journey, so I think a lot has been done today as well!" She puffs out her chest, clearly someone who takes great pride in her work.

"...You've been doing that this entire trip?"

"Yep!"

That's... That's too much! God, this is just like when I was younger. Doing a lot of work in hopes of a reward, yet never getting it. I sacrificed all my breaks and off-days for that and earned nothing at the end of it all. Don't tell me this is the cause of her strife with Albedo. Does she view her as the one giving her so much work? I should be at fault here! "Shalltear, have you been feeling tired lately? You know, with all your responsibilities?"

"What? No, Momonga-sama! I'm happy with this great task you've given me. I'll make sure to do my utmost best!" she proclaims.

"...Shalltear," he calls sternly, gaining her undivided attention. "It is important to not overwork yourself. You and all of Nazarick need to take breaks, have some fun in your own time. I heard from Lupusregina she was playing around, so why couldn't you? In fact, right now is your break."

"But Momon-"

"No buts. Break. And no to [Message] instructions either." He needs to break this strange working habit if the Great Nazarick Empire is to prosper. What kind of nation would it be if all his children are unhappy?

Shalltear accepts the decree with a bow, looking somewhat saddened. "Yes Momonga-sama. But, what should I do now?"

...Oh yeah, undead can't really go to sleep. "Well, breaks are usually spent doing something you like. But as we're in the carriage right now," he lies down and uses a few books as pillows, "just relax and watch the stars. Read a book, maybe."

"Hmm, alright." She settles herself on the carriage chair, carefully balancing her large skirt on the seat. She looks much more relaxed, her hands crossed over her chest. If anything, she looks like a corpse at peace. "This is nice..."

"Mhm." Momonga continues reading the book. However, soon after he can feel the gaze of Shalltear boring through his skull. "What is it Shalltear?"

"I was just wondering if, uhm, you have a reading recommendation for me?"

"Books, let's see..." He sits up and sifts through the pile. What kind of books would fit her? No, these ones might bore her to death. Even I didn't read "Business Negotiations for Dummies" with any sense of excitement. Wait, there is one... "Here Shalltear, you can read this one," he hands her the book he's currently reading.

Though surprised, she reaches across the carriage and accepts the book. With a huff, she opens the first page and begins reading.

Well, I hope that'll settle her down. My notes shouldn't distract her that much. With that out of the way Momonga reaches for a random book and begins re-reading it. Ahh, politics... My favourite subject. Though he can feel occasional glances at him, it soon fades away in the background as he's engrossed in the book. I really should practice better handwriting, I'm so used to typing back in my previous worl-

His thoughts are cut off when the carriage suddenly jumps up, toppling some of the book pile. When he glances out the window, he still sees the carriage moving along at great speed. Are the roads really that bad? he wonders. From his understanding, though the people in this world have taken great care in building magnificent castles, most of the infrastructure is left wanting. The castle doesn't have much in terms of a proper water supply, having come from either rivers or wells. There are no pumps nor a proper sewage system. That's one of the main aspects of this castle renovation he wants to add: a proper plumbing system. He's not an engineer or architect, but some of his friends were. Nubo, one of his past guild members, was a public works employee. He had interest in old architectural diagrams and added a whole lot of Ancient Roman stuff in Ashurbanipal. He even suggested that the whole of the Sixth Floor be done in the style of a Roman sewer system; they compromised on an amphitheatre instead.

Momonga sighs at the thought of his former comrades. As head of the guild, he was the only one left during Yggdrasil's shutdown. Only Herohero came to say his goodbyes, and he never stayed behind. Of course, Yggdrasil was just a game. They had real life to work on, not some game that's already reached its peak six years before its death knell. He expected the guild activity to decline from there.

But he misses them. Even now, with his emotional suppression working against him, he still feels pained in his nonexistent heart. He misses their long arguments about what dungeons they should raid next. How they would spend several real-life nights planning on taking down a rival guild, or how they managed to conquer the Great Tomb of Nazarick in one attempt. The kind words of Touch Me, the insufferable antics of Luci fer, all of them had helped him go through dark times.

And now they're gone.

It's just Momonga now.

No, I'm not alone, am I? He looks over to the figure of Shalltear, still engrossed in the book. Shalltear carried on some of the personality quirks of her creator Peroroncino. In fact, all the other denizens of Nazarick act similarly to their creators. Yet, does she miss him? Don't all the other denizens miss their creators as well? Would it be better if it were someone else transported here, someone more capable than I? Am I...

Shalltear, sensing a great heaviness in the air, sits up and looks worried at Momonga. "M-Momonga-sama! Are you alright!?"

A sudden wave of calm washes over Momonga, suppressing all of his sadness and guilt. There it is again... "I'm fine, Shalltear. Just continue your break."

"...A-Are you sure?" He can hear a crack in her voice, as if she's about to cry. Hopefully, she'll hear none of his.

"Yes. I just need a little bit of a break, that's all."

Though she lies back down with Momonga's assurance, she doesn't keep her focus on the book. Instead, she looks at him like a child would at their distressed parent.

Way to go Momonga... You make your children worry for you. God, I would never fit to be a parent in the real world. I'm not even human anymore.

By the time the sun rises, he hasn't even finished reading his book. Neither could he remember a single thing he just read through the trip, his mind being too preoccupied with thoughts about his future. Looking out the window, he sees the great, blue expanse of rivers stretching before them. At one of its forks, he sees a fairy-tale castle seated on its shore. With its conical towers and flying banners, it reminds him of images in a children's book. Though not as great as Harrenhal, it still carries a sense of nobility and magnificence.

He can see a small company of men ready to greet them on the river shore. A decorated boat floats along the coast, their ride into the castle. "Alright Shalltear," he calls out to the vampire, straightening out his clothes. "Let's make a good first impression."

Riverrun - 295 AC

"I think that's them," Blackfish points out the approaching black carriage in the distance.

"For someone claiming to be an Emperor, they sure like to arrive at such ungodly times," Hoster Tully replies, yawning at the morning sun. "Also, such a small carriage for a large ego, Brynden. Wouldn't an Emperor refuse to settle for anything less than a large wheelhouse?"

"I think it's the same carriage as Ainz Ooal Gown's messenger during our encampment, brother. It's still quite lavish in design."

"I see, so they lack in carriage variety. Interesting..."

"Or they simply want to arrive here early," Blackfish replies.

"Well yes, that too." It was Hoster after all that suggested they to have the greeting party on the shore a day early. He explained to Blackfish that their guest might want to surprise them by arriving early, thus shaming the host for their unpreparedness. His prediction rings true.

As they get closer, Blackfish sees that the Empire's entourage still consists of those blasted skeletal horses. Well, he sees what looks to be a normal man on the driver seat, yet he doubts if he has any control over the creatures as he's not even holding their reins. "Stick to the plan and follow my lead," the Lord Paramount whispers to him before the two ride up to meet their guests.

They've dressed quite well for the occasion. Blackfish has forgone his knightly garb into something more befitting of the Lord Paramount's brother. Long, leather boots and fancy breeches line his legs. His shirt and coat is made out of fine silk, bearing the colours of his coat of arms. A large black trout is emblazoned on his chest.

Hoster Tully wears a woollen cloak and vest bearing House Tully's sigil, owing to his advanced age. Golden fish clasps on his shoulders hold the cape in place whilst a silver and golden stag pin decorates his chest, signifying his loyalty to the Baratheons. Both men feel a bit out of their comfort zone in these clothes, but they must endure them. If their guests have declared themselves an Empire, then it's fitting to clash greed with greed.

Blackfish had explained to his brother the appearance of those monsters, yet the Lord Paramount still frowns upon seeing the horses up close. But this soon disappears; he's always good at mummer's farce.

But his facade falls apart once the carriage door opens. Though the young girl's appearance soothes his expression, what comes next does not. Blackfish sees his brother's eyes widen in shock before his body freezes and shivers in fear. The guards and knights behind him let out terrified shouts and yelps, rustling their weapon and armour. Even their battle-hardened warhorses neigh and snort at its sight, eager to run away. If Blackfish hadn't met the thing before, he would've been inclined to do the same. He calms his own horse and looks upon the visage of the Stranger before him. "Greetings, Lord Paramount of the Trident," the creature announces in a regal tone. "My name is Ainz Ooal Gown, ruler of the Great Nazarick Empire. I have come for the discussion of the future of our nations."

The declaration breaks Hoster Tully from his fearful stupor. Quickly regaining his senses, he bows his head at the creature. "I'm honoured to have you as an esteemed guest of Riverrun, Lord Ainz. And please, let's not be so formal as fellow rulers. You may call me Hoster if you like." The Lord Paramount has prepared quite a lot of the dialogue ahead of time. In his view, most conversations would follow similar beats and paths, and by planning ahead of time one can control its flow. Just like a river. Makes me wonder what other conversations are planned. Are our everyday talks planned in advance as well, brother?

"It is good to see you well, Hoster Tully. You look lively, unlike the rumours being spread around by people of House Whent." Oh, so it's the Whent's fault now?

"Well, Lord Ainz, I think you had a hand in my wellbeing. Thanks to your gift, I feel a decade younger!" the old man says, laughing whilst flexing his arm. The creature joins in as well. The efforts to try and lower the monster's guard is... Interesting. Whilst his brother plays like an eel hidden in mud, the creature is more like a rock. Unreadable. Is it truly laughing, or is it fake emotions? Does it even have emotions?

"My brother, Lord Ainz," Blackfish cuts in, "I think it's best to continue our talk at Riverrun. I'm sure you are all tired from your journey."

"Yes, I'm still tired as well so early in the morning," Hoster replies, yawning quite loudly for an effect. "Though, I must warn you Lord Ainz. As my castle lies on a river confluence on the Red Fork, we will require a boat to reach it. So, I'm sorry but your carriage may not be able to be brought to the castle grounds. But rest assured, my men shall keep watch on the shore to protect your transport." While it's true that the boat they're using is much too small for a carriage, it's not the largest boat they have. As elegant and royal as the one sitting here, yet large enough to carry a full entourage and their steeds.

"I see... That will be fine."

"Do not worry, Lord Ainz. My men are capable of preventing any distasteful individuals that might come after your carriage." Of course, that's not all the reason those men were there. The first set would be questioning the Whent soldier that came along as the carriage's guide. Perhaps there's useful information there for Blackfish. The second is to assess the nature and capabilities of the skeleton horses, and in the future plan a way for them to be easily killed. Those things have no flesh, so I doubt arrows and poisons would amount much to them.

As they near the moorings of the boat, both Tullies descend from their horses. Blackfish whispers to his brother: "do we still keep the supper?"

"I'd keep it," Hoster replies, stepping onto the boat. "At least the girl has flesh on her body."

Blackfish glances back at her. Though she's smiling, there's a hint of sourness in her expression. Whether that's towards the monster or the Lord Paramount's manipulations, he does not know. He avoids eye contact with her; the way she looks at them is unnerving. For now, he needs to focus on extracting information discreetly.

The boat they have chosen is quite elegant in design. The sides are carved with picturesque waves and fish leaping from the waters, and the sides are decorated with wooden statues of carp. Dark wood helps to make the silver medallions stand out. Some of the finest artisans and craftsmen of the Realm helped create this beauty, and yet their guests barely spend more than a glance looking at it. Not impressive enough, huh...

They enter the boat and head to its centre booth. Inside, glasses of wine have already been prepared. Hoster sits facing the boat's stern while their guests face its bow, ensuring that they have a nice view of the river. Interestingly, the girl sits next to the monster rather than the adjacent seats. What's their relationship, I wonder? Is she the monster's attendant?

He can feel the boat start to move. Blackfish offers her wine which she takes readily, drinking half of the cup in a single gulp. Alright, hopefully this will loosen her lips. It's your chance now, brother.

"How do you like the wine, Lady..."

"Lady Shalltear Bloodfallen, Hoster Tully," she answers, taking another sip of the wine. "Ah.. It is a nice drink you have here. Rather sweet for my liking. What is it called?"

"Arbor gold, my lady. One of the finest wines of Westeros."

"Really? Well, I may need a few more if you wouldn't mind." She giggles, setting the empty cup on the table. Blackfish refills it and she continues drinking without thanking him. As she swirls the golden wine, he notes the ring on her finger, one that he didn't notice the first time they met. It looks similar to the one on the creature's left hand. It's clear that she's not a lower-born, but what is the significance of that ring? Is it some sort of status symbol, one that the Emperor would wear. If so, why is she wearing it? Gods, I need to ask Maester Vyman lots of questions.

"It's a treat to see my guests happy, Lady Shalltear. I always strive to prepare the best," Hoster replies, sipping his own cup. "If it's not rude for me to ask, Lady Shalltear, what is your position in this Great Nazarick Empire? I'm not familiar with your nation and I see that you are quite close with Lord Ainz. I simply don't want to call you by the wrong title, that's all."

Shalltear looks at the monster for a moment before giving her explanation. "Well, I hold the title of Floor Guardian of the First, Second, and Third Floors. Forever in service to my dear Ainz Ooal Gown-sama." She seems quite proud of the titles she just recited, yet none of it makes sense to either men.

"I can assume you're not familiar with such positions?" the monster asks.

"I'm quite sorry, Lord Ainz, it does not ring any bells."

"Well, how should I explain it," the monster rubs its chin. "You see, it's not dissimilar to the rulers and titles that are present in your land. As ruler of Nazarick, I am comparable to that of your kings and queens. Floor Guardians, which guard and rule over sections of the empire, is a similar position to Lord Paramount. So it can be said that Shalltear here holds similar privileges and strength like your rule, Hoster Tully."

So the monster equates my brother to this Shalltear... What a load of horse-shit! Is he trying to show that the Lord Paramount is not worthy of his time? That he must speak with some shadowbinding little girl if he wants to create negotiations!? Blackfish keeps his thoughts to himself. Calming himself down, he refills the girl's cup for the third time. He watches closely her haughty expressions and laughter. It infuriates him how these invaders would look down on their hosts.

"Is that so." Hoster holds true under the monster's gaze, it's appearance no longer as surprising to him. "It's rare to see a woman hold such a high position. Perhaps in Dorne, but even then it's somewhat of a rarity. What part of the world did you hail from?"

"East," the monster replies. "Far, far east."

An answer that answers nothing. So these invaders don't want to talk about their origins. Are they exiles in their homeland?

"Ah, east! I have a few soldiers that hail from there as well. You should meet them, perhaps you might know one another." A smart move on his brother's part to see if what the monster's saying is true or complete fabrications. In truth, they have no soldiers from the east; all of them are Rivermen. But if the creature can't discern between them...

Blackfish realises that his bottle is now empty. "Excuse me while I fetch another bottle," he says, heading out onto the deck. Looking over the bow, he reckons that they're about halfway to the castle. Not much time left for their little questioning. Though he's hesitant to use it, he decides against his best judgement and pulls out the bottle hidden underneath the ropes. A bottle of arbor gold with slight additions by Maester Vyman. It should be tasteless and untraceable, but I doubt that girl would notice. She downs her drinks like a sailor to no ill effects. He knows how dishonourable it is to do this, especially to a little girl. But he reminds himself that these are invaders, not native Westerosii. Their code of honour is not bound to them.

Entering the room he finds his brother laughing, quite jolly and red-faced whilst lifting his cup of wine. Would have been a damn good mummer, Blackfish thinks, refilling his brother's cup. Their guests stay calm and relaxed, not carried by Hoster's laughters and jokes. The monster ignores them all, simply staring out of the window. "Enjoying the view, Lord Ainz?" Blackfish asks.

"Yes, Ser Brynden." There's a tinge of sadness in that creature's voice. "I've never seen a river so blue and clean."

"Do they not have rivers like this where you came from, Lord Ainz?" Hoster asks.

"They used to be abundant. However," the monster's voice deepens, "some have taken it upon themselves to ruin such beauty. Now, every river there is black with acid and poisons. And all those responsible did nothing to fix it." It digs its claws into the table, leaving jagged marks.

"That is disheartening to hear, Lord Ainz. I can assure you that none in this Realm would ever dream of committing such heinous acts. And if they do, well, we might see it fit to hang them."

"Me as well, Hoster Tully. What you have here is not to be squandered."

So the monster comes from ruined lands... I've heard of destroyed and abandoned cities, but not tales of rivers turning black. There's nothing like that in Essos... The Doom? No, it couldn't be! He's reminded again of the girl's beautiful Valyrian looks. Her long, silver-pink hair is tied into a ponytail by a bonnet. She does carry that signature Targaryen look, but she would still stand out among them. Her canines stick out of her top lips, and her skin looks as pale as a doll. But what stands out the most is the girl's eyes. Like shimmering rubies... I wonder how many men she has entranced with her beautiful gaze, falling for her charms and soft words. Of course with her looks, how could one resist her? That deep red of hers must have beckoned many to their-

"BRYNDEN! We're here!"

Blackfish snaps out of it, his head throbbing from a sudden headache. He looks around and sees his brother glaring at him, barely holding back his fury. "What, ho-"

"Get out and prepare the gangway."

Still confused, he heads out the door and sees that they're already in Riverrun's dock. Wait, we were just halfway to the castle... Quickly now, he pulls on the rope and moors the boat to the dock. Many have gathered to see their arrival, including Maester Vyman and Septon Lucas who will be accompanying their guests. He sets up the gangplank and gives way to their guests.

As the monster is the first to exit, the people around them start to yelp and scream at the sight. "Make way for the honoured guest of Riverrun!" Blackfish shouts. With that, the crowd bows to the four and quickly disperse, eager to not be in the monster's presence. Vyman and Lucas manage to keep their cool. I should commend them for their bravery later.

"Good morning, Maester Vyman, Septon Lucas," Hoster greets them, holding on to his decorated cane.

"It is great to see you healthy, my lord," Vyman bows his head. He looks at the monster, keeping a smile on his face. "I am grateful for your help, Lord Ainz. If it wasn't for your potions, then the Lord Paramount would have been unable to be with us right now."

"Yes, Lord Ainz. May the Seven bless you," adds Septon Lucas.

The monster waves it away. "It is of no effort for me. It's important for us to foster a prosperous relationship, so please see it as a sign of good will."

"Yes, the future is bright, Lord Ainz. However, it is brightest at noon. Since there's plenty of time before our meeting, I would like to eat breakfast first. Maester Vyman, Septon Lucas, would you care to show our guests around the castle?"

"It will be an honour my lord."

"And Brynde, let's talk a little about our preparations in the boat. Shall we?"

As their guests leave and enter the keep, the Tullies enter the boat room. Once inside, Hoster slams his cane into the old knight's chest, sending him sprawling on the floor. Blackfish winces in pain. "...I see you have your strength back, brother."

"Enough jests, Brynden," Hoster jabs his cane onto the floor. "Why did you speak?"

"S-Speak wh-"

"Don't play stupid with me. You were running your mouth to that damn girl like some nervous greenboy! You nearly spilt all of our plans and I had to stop you from fucking talking. I embarrassed myself enough times in front of them, so let me ask you again, Brynden." The old man pushes down on Brynden's shoulders with his cane. "Why?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about. All I remembered was her face and, and..." And what? What did I do? I can't remember anything from the wine onwards, why!?

"Geh, to think you'd stoop so low, Brynden." Hoster lifts his cane, allowing Blackfish room to breathe. "Should've married that Redwyne girl, then you would have known how to control yourself around women. And that Shalltear is just a little girl, have you no shame!?"

"Brother," Blackfish catches his breath. He needs to reason with him. "Maybe... Maybe that girl used magic."

"Magic?" Hoster scoffs. "I saw no such thing from her."

"How do you even know what magic looks like, brother?"

With that, Hoster has gone silent. He looks calm, peering out of the window. "The dark arts," he says, leaning on his cane. "Maybe that's why she could make you speak. Perhaps why she never got drunk either. Brynden, make sure that every part of our plan goes smoothly. I will not tolerate any mistakes." The Lord Paramount exits the boat, thumping his cane on the wood. The old knight is left alone.

No apologies, no thank yous, no nothing, Blackfish sighs. Oh, how great it is to see you back to normal, brother. There's still a lot of work to be done. Assessing the horses of the Empire, verifying the girl's involvement in Harrenhal's fall, finding out things about magic...

This will be a long two days.