Author's Note: Hello again! Before starting the next chapter, I wanted to address a couple of comments I received regarding the last chapter. Some people shared their concern that the way Eddard discovered the ancient treasury (and the contents therein) was rather arbitrary and the amount found too much ("The MC's on Easy Mode").
Answer: One of my reasons for choosing the Starks as the focal point of this story was that they had an incredibly long history that is not well-defined. Finding old passageways and tunnels in an area known to be inhabited by the old Kings of Winter for thousands of years seemed to be supportable. Also, for those concerned about Eddard just steamrolling due to economic might, that's not going to happen. As I stated in the Author's Note of the last chapter, the coin conversion is 1:10 for gold to silver in the Land rather than the 1:210 that it was in A Song of Ice and Fire. The gold Eddard found, then, has been massively devalued (unbeknownst to him). That being said, silver has been conversely increased in value. The amount of silver found in the ancient treasury, however, is exceedingly minimal compared to the amount already in Winterfell's coffers.
Chapter 5
Winterfell, Shibon 14, 15,367 ABG
Eddard concealed a frown as he looked out over his gathered Lords.
It had been six weeks since he had ordered Maester Lewin to send out summons to all the Lords and Masters of the North and most had answered his call. The Lords that didn't answer his summons, however, gave him pause.
'Bolton, Ryswell, Dustin, Stout, Whitehill, and all of the Crannogmen Lords,' he thought sourly.
Their absence was signified by empty chairs surrounding the high table and not even the Greatjon's boisterous personality could make up for their lacking presence.
He had spoken with the men he sent as messengers to those keeps and they all confirmed that the Lords and Lady they were sent to explicitly agreed to be present at this gathering.
'Well, all the messengers who came back, that is,' he thought, failing to hide a grimace.
The men he sent to the Dreadfort and Greywater Watch had never returned. To be fair, he had expected some difficulties, but that was why he sent ten armed men each as escort, damnit!
Sighing, Eddard reflected on the many reports from terrified smallfolk he had been getting lately.
Over the past several weeks, there had been growing reports of animal attacks from his hunters, particularly those in the Wolfswood. Farmers from steadings, hamlets, and even small villages had begun to make their way toward Winterfell as a place of perceived safety.
It had gotten so bad that he had formed a hunting party just under a week ago to try and thin out the predators in the area. He had gotten far more than he had bargained for.
[Start Flashback]
Eddard guided his horse around the briar patch irritably and received a tired whinny in protest from his mount. It had been two days since his party of twenty had left through the Hunter's Gate and they had not seen hide nor tail of the fabled predators that the smallfolk were terrified of.
Through constant rain, he and his party had gone village to village, trying to piece together where the animals were coming from. The night before, they had finally received a lead after coming across a crofter's hut outside of one of the villages.
"There be a cave up 'yond those hills where a pack of wolves used to gather," the old farmer told them as he gestured lazily to the north and west. "My brother and I took care of 'em years ago, but might be that others have taken up there. I'm too old to do anything 'bout it just by myself and my brother 's long dead. I could lead ye there though, yer lordship, if'n you'll let me borrow a horse."
Quickly agreeing to the man's offer, they had bedded down for the night outside of town and rode with the dawn.
Looking at his surroundings, Eddard was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake. They had passed the last dirt trail over an hour ago and they had been riding through increasingly rocky terrain ever since. Preparing to call for a halt and to turn around, Eddard heard a cry pierce the air from up ahead.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed his horse through a small patch of thorns and up an incline to where he heard the cry. Moments later, he came across two of his men plunging their spears into an over-sized wolf.
Seeing it was outmatched, the wolf tried to disengage but was brought to a brutal halt by a thrown spear from one of his guardsmen.
Dismounting, Eddard held tight to his own spear as he approached the downed wolf cautiously. Its sides still rose and fell but with each breath it seemed to be getting weaker.
As he locked eyes with the wolf, it growled low but was silenced forever when Winter pounced forward and swiped at its throat with her front paw. The casual gesture by the direwolf tore open the dying wolf's throat and its eyes dimmed in death.
Rolling his eyes at his familiar showing off, he ignored her. Returning the gesture, Winter stalked off silently into the woods.
"Well, looks we finally found one of em, milord," one of his guardsmen chipperly said.
"Aye," the old farmer said as he rode up. "The cave is naught but a five-minute walk from here."
Relieved that their expedition was finally bearing fruit, Eddard gestured for the farmer to lead the way. A short ride later and Eddard caught sight of their destination.
You have found: New Cave.
'Not sure I would call that a cave,' he thought as he looked at the small opening in the hillside.
Seeing his incredulity, the farmer began to reassure him.
"It be a mite narrow at the beginning but it opens up once you go down far enough."
"Oh, joy," one of his guardsmen mumbled.
Seeing the uneasy expressions on the faces of his guardsmen, Eddard was thankful when Jory spoke up.
"Time to earn your pay, lads. I would hate to tell the other men that you were too scared to follow your Lord into an animal den."
The prospect of being shamed in front of their fellows seemed to stiffen their resolve as they tethered their horses to the trees and spread out around the cave's opening.
As the guards were moving about, Eddard turned and spoke quietly to Jory.
"Pick your four most reliable men. We'll scout the cave out while the rest of the men guard the entrance. For all we know the pack is out hunting, and I don't want to get trapped in this cave."
Nodding at the logic, Jory selected four of the older guards and met him at the cave opening. Each of the men wielded hunting spears and had either a dagger or short sword at their side. The youngest of the lot also carried a torch and was fiddling nervously with a piece of flint on his belt. Eddard's attention was distracted as he caught sight of Winter as she trotted out of the forest with a rabbit in her mouth. She was just barely too large to fit through the cave's entrance and so would help the rest of the men guard the cave opening.
Seeing the men finished with their preparations, he gave them a nod and motioned toward the torchbearer to lead the way into the cave. As he and the men carefully made their way down, a gust of wind blew by him and he caught the stench of wet animals.
Mindful of keeping the noise to a minimum, he caught the eye of Jory who nodded in understanding that their quarry was nearby.
As they continued making their way down into the Earth, the path became less treacherous, and the cave began to widen out. Along the bottom of the cave walls, rivulets of water fed small patches of plants that glowed with a soft blue hue.
Without warning their procession came to a halt, and Eddard nearly collided with the man in front of him. Chastising himself for his carelessness, he put his curiosity over the plants out of his mind.
Using his height to see beyond the man in front of him, Eddard saw the torchbearer standing motionless as he stared at something in the gloom. Squinting his eyes, he tried to see what it was that caused the man to stop when he saw several large figures trot into sight.
While the wolves in front of him were nowhere near the size of Winter, they were definitely not ordinary.
Quickly making a decision, he gave orders to his men.
"Two men wide, three deep. Move!" He barked.
As the men rushed to do as they were told, the lead wolf charged. As it left the ground in a leap, it was halted by a thicket of spears. One tore across its face while two held it aloft with the metal digging into its torso. The other wolves tried to attack as well but were prevented by the tight confines and the thrashing of their dying brethren in the way.
Seeing that everyone was in a good position, Eddard ordered the two men holding the wolf to pull out their spears. As soon as they did so, the lead wolf whimpered, crawling away as the other wolves charged in.
The two wolves in front acted as their predecessor did and leapt toward them, skewering themselves in turn.
A wolf in the rear was far more clever and used one of the dying wolves as a springboard to try and jump clear over the spears.
Unfortunately for it, the two men at the rear of the improvised formation saw what the wolf was doing and positioned their spears, waiting for gravity to do its work. The wolf, unable to stop its momentum, plunged into the sharpened metal and tried to pull itself closer to the men that caused it such pain.
But these men came prepared. The 'wings' near the end of the spear would prevent a fully grown boar from powering its way through the spear to the wielder, let alone an overgrown wolf.
Dying in agony, the wolf let out a howl of frustration that reverberated throughout the cave. Dozens of howls answered her call.
Paling at the scope of what they were dealing with, Eddard tore out his own spear and ordered the men to disengage and slowly make their way back to the surface.
What followed was an exhausting fighting withdrawal from the cave that left each of the men bone weary. As the men noticed that the amount of natural light into the cave was increasing, they let out a ragged cheer.
The few wolves that were still shadowing their small group had grown wary of their spears and now were simply waiting for one of his men to slip up or fall out of the formation. They did not give them that pleasure.
As the last of their group crossed the threshold, a shout ordered them to jump aside. Quickly obeying, Eddard heard bows twanging and heard the startled yelps from within the cave. Positioning his spear toward the cave expectantly, he was still unprepared when a massive form leapt out, with over a dozen smaller figures following.
The Alpha, for that was surely what it was, was just shy of Winter's own size. Seeing a challenge to her authority, Winter bowled her opponent over, clawing and biting at the other wolf.
Focusing back on his own battle, Eddard speared the charging wolf just above the breastbone. Clawing at the spear to try and get closer to him, the wolf was surprised when Eddard let go and allowed the wounded animal to rush in.
The spear in its chest hampered the wolf's movements and allowed Eddard to easily draw his dagger and slam it into the top of the wolf's skull, ending the animal.
Cave Wolf, (Level 4) has died. You receive 150 experience points.
Looking around to take in the battle, Eddard noticed that his men had fared well against the wolves and Winter had already finished off the Alpha.
Unsheathing his dagger from the wolf's skull, Eddard absentmindedly wiped the gore off on his pants while reevaluating the smallfolk's complaints.
'Might be that there is something to what they're saying,' he thought as a headache began to build.
[End Flashback]
He had already spoken with his advisors, and, together, they had come up with some tentative plans. The formation of any centralized force to deal with keeping the outlying villages safe would be prohibitively expensive. However, if each Lord funded such a force within their own lands it might be financially doable. That, in conjunction with incentivizing more smallfolk to arm themselves with bows, should help to get these attacks under control.
Given the level of caterwauling going on in the Great Hall, it apparently was NOT a good idea.
"I'm already bloody well paying my fighting men in a time o' peace. Might as well use em to deal with this mess," the Greatjon shouted. "There's no need to build another force, and if ya just shove bows into a poor man's hand, all you'll end up with is more poachers and bandits," the large Lord said to a mix of shouts of agreement and others telling him to 'sit his fat ass down.'
As the gathering devolved into a drunken fracas of insults and jeers, Eddard saw Ser Wylis Manderly, the Heir to White Harbor, stand up.
Slamming his hand against the wooden table, Eddard gained the hall's attention.
"Did you have something to add Ser Wylis?" He asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice.
"Aye, my Lord," the young man said. "It seems to me that the issue is more a lack of roads than anything else. If we built roads linking these outlying villages with our main holdings, then we could have our cavalry ride up and down the road ensuring good order."
"Roads are bloody expensive," the Greatjon bellowed.
"Aye, they're expensive you bloody miser," Ser Wylis shouted back, "but its better than just paying to start a whole new order of men. We've kept the Kingsroad in good repair, especially with all the repairs we've done throughout the ten-year summer, but that is just a start. By creating new roads, we can increase trade within our lands and protect our people."
There were a few muted grumblings to Ser Wylis' words, but most people seemed cautiously optimistic about the idea.
Before anymore could be said on it, however, the door to the Great Hall was opened.
Frowning at the interruption, Eddard saw a young boy being restrained by a pair of his guards.
"Thomas?" Richard Waterman, the Heir to Waterhold, said with a look of disbelief on his face.
"Richard!" the young boy said, sagging in relief as he recognized his older brother.
"As touching as this family reunion is, the little cub has just interrupted the only productive part of this meeting," Maege Mormont said as she rolled her eyes.
"Aye, Lady Mormont is right. Be off with you, lad, you can speak with your brother later," Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold, said.
"No, I can't!" the young boy shouted as he looked around in panic. "Lord Bolton has invaded our lands!"
The tension that suffused the air at those words was palpable.
All Eddard could think about, though, was that now everything made sense.
'The Boltons will attack from the north and east and the Ryswells, Dustins, and Stouts from the south and west. The Whitehills will likely try to merge with the Bolton force soon if they haven't already,' he thought woodenly.
As soon as he had that thought, a system prompt filled his vision.
You have been offered a settlement quest: Unlock your Power I
You are beset on multiple sides by enemy Armies. Teach them the error of their ways and increase your village's and your own power.
Success conditions: (1) Defeat the Bolton Army; (2) Defeat the Ryswell-Dustin-Stout Army; (3) Defeat the Whitehill Army.
Optional conditions: (4) Kill or capture 90% of the constituents of any of the above listed Armies; (5) Kill or capture the Leaders of any of the above listed Armies; (6) Unknown.
Rewards: (1-3) Unlock one of the Powers of your Place of Power; (4) 5,000 experience points per army; (5) 2,500 experience points per Leader; (6) Unknown.
Penalty for failure of refusal of Quest: Unknown.
Do you accept? Yes or No
Accepting the quest determinedly, Eddard tuned back into what was being said around him.
"That leech-buggering bastard! I'll cut off his bloody head and use it as a chamber pot," the Greatjon roared.
'Not very productive, then,' Eddard sighed.
Putting a cold mask on his face, he slowly pushed himself to his feet as he looked around the table, his eye catching on each of the Lords and Ladies as they too rose to their feet in respect.
"My Lords and Ladies, it seems we are at war. Are you with me?"
At his simple question, a roar of support went up from all present.
"STARK! STARK! STARK!"
Raising his hands in a bid for silence, the hall eventually quieted down.
"I thank you for your support in me. Our enemies have stolen a march on us but right now they are weak."
"Ser Jory," he said as his gaze snapped to his Captain of the Guard. "How quickly can we outfit all of our professional men?"
"We can outfit all 2,500 in two days, milord," the man said calmly as the rest of the Lords gasped in surprise.
Nodding his head at the man's words, he said, "Send out cavalry detachments to our southern and western villages. I want all our levy archers from those areas at Winterfell by the time we march. The rest of the levy will garrison Winterfell when we march east in two days' time."
"Ser Rodrik," he said as he focused on his master-at-arms. "I will leave you in command of Winterfell when we march north. Train the levies well, for when we return from breaking Bolton's army, we march south to root out the rest of the traitors."
"House Cassel will not fail you, my Lord," the old man said solemnly.
At House Cassel's pledge of support, the rest of the houses rushed to do the same.
"My Lord," Medger Cerwyn, the Lord of Castle Cerwyn, yelled over the throng. "My men will march north with all due haste."
Settling his gaze on the Lord Cerwyn, Eddard grimaced before saying, "No, Lord Cerwyn. I do not doubt your loyalty, old friend, but your men are needed at Castle Cerwyn in case the Ryswell-Dustin Army attempts to attack Winterfell from the south."
"At least take half of my cavalry, my Lord," the old Lord said pleadingly.
Nodding his head in acquiescence at the offer, Eddard said, "I thank you, my Lord. I will use them well."
As the rest of the Lords and Ladies approached him and offered the retinues they brought for his Army, he gladly accepted and told them that they would hold a war council the following day. As the meeting started to break up, his son and Heir rose to his feet.
"Father, if Bolton is invading Waterhold then all of the villages south of Long Lake along the White Knife will be vulnerable. Let me lead a cavalry detachment to scout and protect those areas."
Making a snap decision, he agreed.
"You will take three-hundred of our fastest horses and scout the villages west of Waterhold. I do not want you crossing the White Knife. Attack any Bolton scouts and raiders if a good opportunity presents itself."
The shock on his son's face quickly gave way to determination as he said, "I will not fail you, father."
"Ser Wylis," he said. "You will take your own retinue along with the Karstarks, the Lockes, and the Hornwoods and protect the villages along the White Knife. You will re-join our Army as we pass."
"I am honored in your trust, my Lord," Ser Wylis replied.
"Lord Poole," Eddard said as he addressed his stoic Steward. "I want our supply wagons on the road in advance of our Army tonight. Lord Hallis Mollen will lead one-hundred men as an escort."
"It will be done, my Lord," his Steward replied.
Eventually the meeting broke up deep into the night, and Eddard found himself entering his chambers, exhausted. Noticing his wife awake on their bed, he addressed her quietly.
"You didn't have to wait up, my love. It is bad enough that one of us has to be exhausted."
"I didn't want you to be alone tonight," she said simply.
"Just tonight?" he asked provocatively.
His wife had kept her word after their spat weeks ago and had not shared his bed since then.
"Are you done playing around with blood magic?" she asked with equal provocativeness.
"Aye, for now," he said while chuckling.
"Then I have kept my word. Come to bed, husband," she said as she smiled tiredly at him.
Slipping under the furs, he held onto her tightly as he whispered, "I missed you."
"And I, you, my love," she said as she kissed him tenderly.
Author's Note: Probably not going to write a sex scene for a while (new author not comfortable with it) so the chapter is stopping here. Have an update on Ned's Status Sheet as a consolation prize. Thanks for Reading!
Name: Eddard Stark
Level: 4, 26%
Age: 35
Race: Human
Alignment: Neutral
Languages: Andalos 'Common Tongue'
Reputation: Level 1 "Who are you again?"
STATS
Health: 130
Mana: 150
Stamina: 180
ATTRIBUTES
Strength: 17
Agility: 12
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 13
Endurance: 18
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 15
Luck: 11
RESISTANCES
None
SKILLS
Beast Bonding: 3, 67, 76
Blood Magic: 3, 18, 80
Swordsmanship: 9, 45, 96
Administration: 12, 81, 78
Spear Proficiency: 2, 21, 68
War Leader: 1, 15, 99
ABILITIES
Legacy of the Winter Kings: +10% Endurance, +5% Constitution, +5 Charisma
Wolf's Blood: +10 skill levels to Beast Bonding when taming wolves (Grants skill Beast Bonding and spell Tame)
MARKS
Master of Winterfell Village
Yes, he leveled. Yes, it was off-screen. Yes, the next level-up will be on-screen so I can show the system messages and how it works.