So, yup still around! I apologize for taking so long with this. Won't make excuses. I just hope that everyone out there is taking this current crisis seriously! COVID-19 is a big deal, so everyone please, don't risk it. Stay home and stay safe. And remember, it isn't just about you during this time. It's about everyone else as well. Social distancing isn't just about keeping yourself safe, it's about helping to try and stem the spread of the virus as well.

Anyway, onto the story. One thing I want to bring up is several reviewers have asked how Nox plans on recharging the lightsabers power cores. Honestly, this thought never really occurred to me, so I looked it up. And from what I read on wookipedia and a few other sources, it sounds like that if a lightsaber is properly made, it will continuously recharge the power cell while it's activated. So, that's what I'm going to be going with. And honestly, probably won't even really touch much on the topic because I have way too much other things to focus in on and, as some have point out, I can be a bit wordy at times.

And as always, a big shout out to my beta reader/brainstorm pal Tellemicus Sundance.

Also, putting this in there but trigger warnings for depiction of rape, violence, gore and language. This is Song Of Fire and Ice / Game of Thrones. The tags are probably a given, but felt the need to put them in there for this chapter.

Chapter 4


The crowd from the presentation of Nox's glass, which had been dubbed ice-glass due to its color and strength, had barely begun to disperse before an errand boy had run up to Nox and informed him that Lord Stark wanted to speak with him in his solar immediately. Even before the boy could finish speaking, Nox knew exactly what Stark wanted to speak to him about. He'd felt it over a week ago now, but outside of telling Stark to order his bannermen to start gathering their men, he'd kept his thoughts to himself. He wanted to see if Stark had sensed it as well. Apparently, he hadn't. Or if he had, he hadn't been able to place what the feeling was.

Arriving at Ned's solar, Nox gave the wooden door a singular knock before calmly striding in. The Warden of the North was sitting behind his desk, a raven's note laying on the wooden surface before him. "How did you know?" Ned asked as Nox calmly shut the door.

"You will have to be more specific, my lord."

Ned's grey eyes turned on him and narrowed. "You know of what I speak of Nox. Two weeks ago, you advised me to begin telling my men to call their banners and ready themselves. And now today I received a raven from King's Landing. The Ironborn have sacked Lannisport. Balon Greyjoy has declared himself King of the Iron Island and no longer under the jurisdiction of King Robert Baratheon. The King has called all the banners to bring the Ironborn to heel. How did you know that this was going to come to pass?"

"I didn't." Nox answered simply. "At least I didn't know the specifics of what'd happened. All I know is that two weeks ago I felt a disturbance in the Force. Such a disturbance is usually associated with a great loss of life, like a terrible battle, or rather a slaughter. I merely assumed that someone attacked someone else on a grand scale. And given the King's…eagerness for a fight, I assumed that he would be answering whatever had happened with a show of force."

The Warden of the North stared at him for some time, as if trying to decide whether he truly believed him. "I felt this…disturbance as well," Lord Stark stated, bringing Nox up short. He hadn't expected Stark's force attunement to be quite so well refined already that he could sense the death and destruction of at least a thousand miles off. "At least, I thought I did. It was a chill, a slight shiver. One that I shrugged off as nothing more than a chill brought on by the morning air. But then you came to me and advised I begin gathering my banners, and I began to wonder if that slight sensation was truly something after all."

Pulling up a seat, Nox fixed the Lord of Winterfell with his full attention. "You're Force attunement is quite amazing for only having just reawakened your affinity. It makes me wonder just how powerful you could've been had you been discovered earlier and been trained properly."

Stark didn't necessarily seem entirely comfortable with the prospect. "Perhaps. But the past is the past and not the reason that I asked to speak with you today."

"No, of course not." Nox nodded. "You called me here because you are calling your banners and heading off to war. And you want me to come with you."

Stark nodded. "Aye, I do. I've seen the way you interact with the men in the yard. You might not have led a war before, but you've led in battle, haven't you?"

"You have no idea," Nox replied ruefully, thinking back to the many campaigns he participated in during his time as a Sith Lord of the Empire. "And I will go with you, Lord Stark. However, I must make you aware of something. I'm not going with you to fight in this war, I'm going with you to win this war. And to do so, I cannot be 'Master Nox'. I must reclaim my old moniker and become 'Darth Nox' once again."

"And what does that mean?" Stark asked seriously. "You have explained before that your title amongst your people was 'Darth Nox'. But what is so special about this title that you must hold it to fight in a war?"

"The title of Darth is not one that is handed out without cause, Lord Stark. In order to become a Darth, one must become death incarnate." Pausing in his explanation, Nox drew deeply on the dark side, letting it fill him as much as possible. While he couldn't see what was happening to the physical world around him, he'd done this enough in order to intimidate his subordinates that he knew exactly what was happening. The air in the room dropped several degrees, to a level where Stark's breath started to mist. And despite his usual stoic façade, Stark let out a slight shiver. "I will fight for you, Lord Stark. I will fight for the North against your enemies. But I will do so my way. I will not defeat the Ironborn. I will destroy them. I will leave such a lasting impression on them that the next son of a bitch reaver that even thinks of picking up a blade and turning to a life of piracy will shit themselves out of fear of retribution. And by the time this 'war' is done, there will be no hiding what I am nor what I can do. After this, there will be no going back to the way things were. So, having said that Lord Stark, do you still want me to march with you?"

Stark remained silent behind his desk as he absorbed the ultimatum that Nox had handed to him. Without saying a word, Stark pulled open one of the drawers on his desk and reached inside. Nox's lips turned upwards slightly as Stark pulled his ancestors lightsaber out of the drawer. "In truth Nox," Stark began, staring down at the lightsaber in his hands before placing it on the desk between them. "Things changed the moment you saved my son's life from the Wildings over a moon ago. Why should we stop the change now?"

The moment Stark offered him his lightsaber back, Nox, could feel a slight shifting in the Force. Stark handing Nox his lightsaber back meant something to the Force. Something that was supposed to happen. And Nox knew in that moment that he had truly started to earn the trust of the Warden of the North. 'Now all I need to do is to start training his children and Jon.' "There is one more thing I must inform you of, Lord Stark." Nox began, mentally preparing himself as he knew he was about to delve into a pain part of his past. "I can and will tolerate a lot during war. But there is one thing I will not tolerate, and that is the act of rape. Should I find any man committing this act, regardless of their rank or station, I will kill them."

Stark didn't bat an eye as he stared at him. "I can respect your vigor, Nox, but I cannot condone such an act with-"

"I assure you, Lord Stark, there will be nothing for you to condone." Nox countered, "this will happen. But do not fear, I will make sure that my actions do not come back to tarnish you and the North."

Stark sighed while shaking his head, "men lose themselves in battle Nox. Especially when a castle is raided. Lord's cannot control all of their men at all times."

"No, but you can make a statement to make it so that when their blood does rise, they think twice before takiing out their dicks." Nox once again countered. "You've never once asked me about my eyes, Lord Stark."

The abrupt change in conversation made Stark start. "No, I respected your decision not to tell me."

"Then perhaps it is time I tell you why I am like this, and perhaps then you will understand why I will kill every rapist I come across." Nox began. "I've told you that in the Sith Empire there were slaves correct? Well, my mother and I were born into slavery, no idea who my father was. But despite my station, I never once fought back, I accepted what I was. But then one day when I was no older than Jon and Robb I discovered I could use the Force. Per the law of the Sith, every Force sensitive was to be tested and sent to the Temple of Korriban for training. My Master however, did not like the idea of a mere slave joining the ranks of the Sith. So, the night before I was to be tested by the Temple Guards he summoned myself and my mother to his chambers."

Pausing, Nox had to calm himself as he felt the dark side steadily encroaching on him as he told of his past. "He had his men hold me down and watch as his guards violently violated my mother in every way conceivable right in front of my eyes. They could do whatever they wanted to her just short of killing her. It took nearly half a day before the last man finished. And once he had, my Master gutted my mother like an animal right in front of me. And then to make sure that my mother's defiled gutted corpse was the last thing I ever saw, he took a red-hot poker to my eyes and removed my sight. And sadly, his plan worked. The next day when the Temple guards arrived my emotional state was such that I could not use the Force in front of them, and then after giving one guard a hefty pride, they left me. I was then thrown into the local's mines to die."

Taking a deep breath, Nox made sure he had Starks full attention. "I've done a lot in my time that many could consider 'bad'. But I've never once taken anyone against their will and I've always made sure to punish those that do so. And I am not about to stop now."

Frowning, Stark held his head in his hands, weighing Nox's words. He could almost see the debate going on in his head. Rape was more than likely going to happen during the war, in which case Nox would act. And probably force Stark to do some damage control. But it was either that or leave Nox behind and fight the war without him.

"Very well Nox." Stark declared after a long moment. "I will agree to you handling of the rapists. But only if their guilt is without question. And they must be offered the chance to take the Black first before you legally deal with them. Deviate from this, and you will no longer be welcome in the North. Am I understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now come," Stark said, rising to his feet as Nox gathered his lightsaber, "Lord Manderly, Jory and Ser Rodrik are awaiting us to discuss plans in the great hall."

"Will Jon and Robb be joining in the discussion?" Nox asked as the two left the room and walked through the halls.

Stark hesitated slightly at the suggestion. "They are both boys. Not even old enough to start growing hair on their faces."

"Yes, yes. Their balls haven't dropped yet. I understand that." Nox replied dismissively. "But Robb will be acting Lord of Winterfell while you are gone, won't he? Acting in name only of course. But still, it is never too young to begin teaching them about warfare. And any lesson is a good one."

Stark seemed to consider the suggestion for a moment before stopping a random servant that was passing them by. "You, go and collect my sons from their lessons with Maester Luwin and bring them to the great hall."

The older woman didn't seem fazed by the command as she obediently bowed. "Aye, milord."

The rest of their walk passed in silence. For Stark, the silence was expected. No doubt the man was thinking about the dozen or some plans he would have to set up in order to make sure Winterfell ran without him while at the same time thinking of potential battle plans for the North. For Nox though, his mind was purely on the fight to come. 'From what I've read, the Ironborn are little more than glorified pirates. But to attack and make such a brazen declaration…it doesn't make much sense. Surely, Greyjoy must know what kind of reaction he'd garner from this. Which means one of two things. The man has a plan, or he is an incompetent idiot. Definitely something to ponder.'

Arriving in the great hall, Nox and Stark were greeted with the sight of three men standing around a large table that had a map and wooden pieces scattered across its surface. Jory and Ser Rodrik, he knew right away. But the third man was one he'd never met. 'Lord Manderly, no doubt.' Nox deduced as he observed the Lord of White Harbor through the eyes of the Force. 'He maybe one of the fattest men I've ever met, but his mind is keen. Very keen. And he's very accepting to new ideas and – oh. A daughter. And he, ah, I see. I was wondering how long I'd be able to last before I'd have to start skirting around marriage proposals from grasping Lords and Ladies.'

"Lord Manderly," Stark greeted the fat man as he motioned for Nox to take a step forward. "This is Master Nox. Master Nox, this is Lord Wyman Manderly, Lord White Harbor."

"Master Nox." Manderly greeted him cordially, his tone bright and welcoming. "It is an honor. Word of your prowess has reached us even in White Harbor. And I for one am glad to see that they were not overstating things."

Nodding his head, Nox quickly thought back to everything he'd learned about the Lord of White Harbor, arguably one of the most important Lords in the North next to the Starks as they controlled the largest harbor in the North, not to mention the fifth largest city in Westeros. "How are your sons, Wylis and Wendel, my Lord? And your granddaughters, Wynaryd and Wylla. Are they in good health?"

Manderly seemed shaken for a moment, but he quickly shook it off as a large grin nearly split his face in two. "Yes, they are, Master Nox. Thank you for inquiring. Wynafryd is three years older than Lord Robb and my youngest, Wylla, is but two years younger. Both are a handful, but I love them dearly. If you have time, I'm sure that my sons and lovely granddaughters would be thrilled to have the chance to meet you. A real live sorcerer. It's something we only read about in ancient history or fantasy."

Nox couldn't help but notice the way Manderly had accented 'lovely' when describing his granddaughters. Nor did he miss the less than subtle jab with the eldest one's age. The eldest may be 'of age' in this world for him in a few years, but Nox would never entertain the notion of marrying and bedding what he still considered to be a child. But there was a second hidden hint in discussing their age. And that was their prospects for Robb and the potential to become the future Lady of Winterfell.

"Perhaps, when time permits and after the Ironborn have learned their place, I will need to take a trip and explore your wonderful city."

"Aye," Lord Manderly agreed before his face turned serious. "But as you said, that can wait until the Ironborn have been dealt with. Forgive me, Lord Stark for taking your time during this session."

"There is no need to ask for forgiveness, Lord Manderly. We are still waiting on a few more to join us." Lord Stark explained, waving off the fat man's concerns.

Before anyone could question, the doors to the hall opened once more. Robb was in the lead, his young eyes wide and full of concern as he walked into the hall with Jon, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground, followed behind with Maester Luwin coming in last. "Lord Stark." Maester Luwin nodded in greeting. "We are here as you requested."

"Good," Stark nodded, motioning for Robb and Jon to approach. "Boys come here for a moment. We have much to discuss."

Robb strode forward confidently, but Jon always kept a pace back. Nox could feel the emotions rolling off the boy. The stench of fear and a sense of unworthiness rolling off him in waves. 'I'm going to have to work on that if he's to reach his full potential in the future.'

"Father." Robb greeted Stark before his eyes cast a quick glance down at the table. "What's…What's happening?"

"War, son." Stark responded simply, drawing quick looks from both Robb and Jon. "The Ironborn have rebelled and King Robert has called the banners of Westeros to deal with them. And as his Warden of the North, I am bound by oath and honor to respond to the call."

Robb's eyes widened to an almost impossible degree as he became ripe with fear. "You're…You're leaving? You're going to fight?"

"Aye," Stark answered simply again. "And while I am gone, you, Robb, will be the Lord of Winterfell."

At this, Robb's eyes very nearly fell out of his young head. "Father…I…I don't' know…I'm not ready!"

Sighing, Stark knelt next to his son. "No one ever is ready for this my son. But you are my son. A true son of the North with the blood of the First Men running through you. You can do this. And you will not be alone. Ser Rodrik will be staying behind, as will Maester Luwin, your mother and Steward Vayon. And if it is not an inconvenience Lord Manderly, I would ask that you stay here in Winterfell until my return to help advise my son as well."

Manderly blinked, but quickly nodded. "Of course, my Lord. It would be my honor to help your son during this time."

"Good," Stark nodded before motioning Jon forward. "Jon. You may not have my name, but you are of Stark blood and my son. The same blood that flows in Robb flows in you as well. And he will need your help, whatever help you can give him. Support your brother at all times."

Jon's back straightened, the feeling of inadequacy and fear being replaced slightly by a sense of purpose as Jon quickly nodded. "Yes father, I will do everything I can to help Robb."

"Good." Stark nodded again, rising to his feet and ushering both boys forward to the table. "Now both of you stay, watch, listen and learn. Ser Rodrik?"

Leaning over the table, Rodrik began moving various pieces around the board. "The squids have attacked Lannisport and several other ports along the Westerlands and even a few in the northern areas of the Reach and the Riverlands. Mostly raids and runs, but they are proving effective at cutting us off from the sea. Lord Stannis has set sail with the royal fleet from Kings Landing and his making his way around Westeros and, from the King's message, intends to meet up with ships from the Reach before continuing. They will then work to ferry men from the Westerlands and the Reach to the Iron Isles."

Stark nodded, taking in the map laid out before him. "Maester Luwin, send out the ravens to all of the keeps in the North. King Robert has made a call, and we will answer it. Timing is of the essence, so tell each House to gather only their bests for this war. All Houses that lie north of Winterfell will make for Deepwood Motte and set sail from there. The rest will converge on Torrhen's Square and set sail from that point. We will then set sail south and converge with the rest of the southern Houses around the Iron Isles."

"Yes, Lord Stark. I will send the ravens immediately." Maester Luwin.

While everything seemed simple enough, Nox didn't like it. Something wasn't right. "Tell me, Lord Stark. The Iron Islands can only field a few thousand at best, no?"

Stark paused before answering. "Aye, ten at most and that is if they arm just about every man and woman on the Islands. Their true strength lies within their boats and on the sea."

Leaning over the map, Nox immediately plotted out several attack plans that could be in play. "Tell me, boys, what do you make of this?"

Both Robb and Jon hesitated. "Make of what, Master Nox?" Robb asked after a moment.

"This war," Nox responded. "Seemingly out of nowhere, Balon Greyjoy sacks Lannsiport and burns it nearly to the ground. Not the smartest move in my opinion as Lord Tywin Lannister is a man that is known not suffer slights lightly. And then there is the Queen to consider as well. She is a Lannister as well. Attacking her homeland so brazenly would not only prompt an immediate response from the Westerlands, but from the crown as well. So, why did he attack? Why are they only raiding and then retreating instead of trying to make inroads onto the mainland?"

The two youngsters' frown as they both thought on his question. "Because he's trying to lure the armies out to sea where the Ironborn are stronger?" Robb answered hesitantly after a while.

"That is a good possibility, and more than likely correct in this instance." Nox agreed, earning a smile from the young lad. "But there is another potential piece to this plan. Can you boys spot it?"

Both lads leaned over the table, examining the map as closely as they could. When neither could answer him, Nox decided to give the two a hint. "Tell me, boys. In warfare, do you want to strike where your enemy is looking?"

Both boys shook their heads, but neither could come up with an answer. That was until Jon's eyes widened. "King's Landing."

All the men in the room blinked, save for Nox who wouldn't have even if he could. Jon, suddenly unsure at finding himself the center of attention, backed off slightly. "No need to be shy boy." Nox said, patting on Jon on the back and encouraging him to speak up. "Say what you see."

Swallowing hard, Jon stepped up to the table. "Umm, it's like Master Nox said. You don't hit your enemy where they think you're going too. Everyone is looking at the Iron Islands and the Westerlands, then who is looking at King's Landing?"

The men around the table all looked down at the map, considering his words. "A good thought, Jon." Eddard agreed, earning a bright smile from Jon. "But it is doubtful. It would take an army of considerable size to lay siege to King's Landing. And even with Stannis bringing the fleet away from port, the city is still heavily defended and a few reavers will not be able to take, let alone hold the city."

"Unless that is not their goal in the assault." Nox countered, drawing quick looks from everyone in the room, which he ignored as he turned back to Robb and Jon. "How does one win a war?"

Robb and Jon both looked at one another as if confused. "You…defeat your enemy…?" Robb half stated, half questioned as if the answer was obvious, but he wasn't sure.

"That is one way, yes." Nox nodded. "But there is another, and more common way for a war to end. Your enemy concedes defeat. This can be done by either defeating their armies. Outmaneuvering them and forcing them to admit that continuation of the war would not be in their best interest. Or, you can hold something over their heads, something they value enough that they are willing to concede defeat. So, having said that, and going back to what Jon and Lord Stark just stated, how could the Ironborn win this war without ever having to really fight?"

Neither boy could put it together, but the experienced men around the table quickly did catch his meaning. And Lord Stark was the first to give words to them. "You can't mean…the royal family? You think they mean to try and kidnap a member of the royal family and force Robert to concede defeat?"

"Why not?" Nox asked. "It's a strategically sound move. Balon cannot win on land, so he must keep everyone at sea. Not possible in a prolonged war. So, the next best option is to hold something that King Robert values enough that he would back off. To my knowledge, there are two royal children, Joffery and Myrcella. Children to the King, grandchildren to Tywin Lannister. Holding either would allow Balon to force two the main parts of the army attacking to hold back. And also, they don't need to hit King's Landing. Dragonstone is the seat of Stannis Baratheon, no? He too has a young daughter, and now with Stannis leaving Dragonstone and taking the royal fleet with him, the island has little more than a token defense guarding it."

"That's…That's dishonorable!" Robb nearly shouted, which only made Nox chuckle.

"Rule of warfare, young man. Never expect your enemies to hold to your ideals."

Across the table, Ser Rodrik was eyeing him wearily. "And how do you know the Ironborn would enact such tactics?"

"I don't," Nox responded, unconcerned by the tone in the elder man's voice. "But I've fought plenty of pirates or raiders or whatever you want to call them in my day. And while cultures and beliefs may differ, they are relatively similar no matter where you go."

Stepping back from the table, Stark turned to Lord Manderly. "Whether Nox is correct or not, it is a possibility we must consider. Lord Manderly, I would task you to send your fleet south to guard both Dragonstone and King's Landing while the royal fleet is away."

"Aye, my lord." Lord Manderly nodded, "I'll send the raven myself and order my son Wendel to depart immediately."

"There is one more thing we must consider, Lord Stark." Nox interjected. "Right now, the Ironborn are reaving up and down the southern lands of Westeros. But they know, with your public friendship with the King, that it is more than likely that you will march to war against them. It's logical that they will be seeking a way to stall your advance. If they were to try and sink a good portion of your ships, where would be a good place to hit?"

Pausing, Stark stared down at the map. "Barrowton. It's not heavily defended, the voyage upriver from the Saltspear. Torrhen's Square is another possibility, but the trek upriver is longer, allowing for a greater chance of being spotted and thereby allowing the men of the land to prepare a defense."

"Then I suggest that we head there immediately and reinforce the town."

"Aye, I agree." Stark nodded before turning towards Jory. "Jory, organize a hundred of our best and a hundred horses. We set out at first light and ride hard for Barrowton."

"Aye, my lord." Jory saluted, fist over his heart.

As Stark began listing off a series of responsibilities and do's and don'ts for Robb and Jon, Nox remained still studying the map laid out before him. 'Not necessarily how I imagined I'd announce myself to this world. But it will do. And besides…it has been sometime since I've been able to let go like one can during a war. Hopefully I'll come across an Ironborn that might prove a challenge. That would make this diversion somewhat worth it.'


It took Nox less than a day to decide that he really didn't care for riding horses. In the Empire, almost all travel was done via speeder bikes or speeders or some form of cushioned ride. Riding animals was an extravagance. And while some worlds still depended on using animals for transit, due to world conditions that made them more efficient than mechanical transportation, Nox tended not to use them if he could. He'd never seen the point. But now, after riding for over ten days at the brutal pace Lord Stark had set for them to reach Barrowton quickly, Nox was regretting his decision not to get used to animal transit. His thighs ached and his ass was killing him. The only relief he was able to find were the brief moments when Stark would call a halt in order to rest and water their horses momentarily.

On the eleventh day into their trek, Barrowton came into view. And as it did, Nox found himself shaking his head even as the other men of House Stark began muttering in surprise and outrage. "Sometimes it's almost painful to be right all the time."

In the distance, plumes of smoke were rising from within town of Barrowton. Over a dozen longboats were stationed just outside the harbor that was connected to the river that few into the Saltspear. Each sail of the longboats was decorated with emblems belonging to a House that owed their loyalty to the Greyjoy's of the Pyke. He could almost hear the cries of battle coming from within the town as the defenders within tried to fight back against the pirates that'd stormed their shores.

"It seems that you were right, Master Nox." Lord Stark stated angrily as he brought his horse alongside his own. "The krakens have indeed decided to attack the North as well as the south."

"Yes." Nox nodded as he reached out through the Force, trying to ascertain what was happening within the walls of Barrowton. "And it looks as if Lady Dustin didn't take your words to heart when you told her to ready the defenses of her city. Foolish."

"Aye, I'll be having words with her. A personal vendetta is no reason to neglect one's subjects." Lord Stark muttered, anger lacing his voice. "But that can wait. First, we must liberate Barrowton. The north gate is still open, we can ride in an-"

"No offense, Lord Stark." Nox muttered, sliding easily off his horse and shaking his legs to get the blood flowing to his limbs. "But I work better alone. You and your men should secure the town. The pirates have made it about halfway to the keep, and Lady Dustin has sealed the gates and put her best men on the walls, keeping her safe. But the krakens don't care her or the keep. They're merely raiding the city, taking what they want and killing whoever gets in their way. I'll make for the harbor and cut off their retreat."

Stark looked at him with a look of disbelief, but he nodded none the less. "Very well, I'll leave the harbor to you. But shouldn't you take your horse? You'll be able to cover ground faster if-"

Nox didn't give Stark the chance to finished what he'd been saying before he took off like a shot towards Barrowton. The Force fueling his movements and allowing him to move faster than any human had a right to move. After not using the Force for so long in such a manner, Nox almost felt euphoric as the Force flowed through him, strengthening his body and fueling him. Once he reached the base of the wall surrounding the town he jumped, using the Force to throw himself skywards and sailing clear over the tall wall and onto the roof of a house that was stationed nearby within the confines of the wall.

He could hear the guards that were stationed on the wall behind him shouting at him, but he tuned them all out as he sunk deeply into the Force, feeling out where the fighting was taking place within the town. He could sense multiple small skirmishes all over. But there was one in a heavily populated area that drew his attention. He could sense dozens of Ironborn pirates and…untrained Northmen trying desperately to hold them back. 'Hmph. And the guards of this town are all sitting on their asses protecting the inner keep. How pathetic.'

His course set, Nox turned and ran across the roof, jumping when he reached the edge of the house and landing on the house next to it. Making his way quickly across the town, he homed in on the fight happening in the populated area. The Ironborn were pushing the untrained militia back at a steady pace, the untrained men and boys no match for the hardened pirates. Reaching the edge of the square, Nox jumped off the house he was on, aiming for the thick of the fighting.

Channeling his hatred and his excitement at the prospect of the battle to come, he propelled himself downwards, slamming into the ground directly before an Ironborn pirate who'd just been about to run a fallen northern man through. The force of his impact sent a shockwave through the ground, sending both Ironborn and northern men stumbling backwards away from him.

'That's tough on the knees,' Nox winced, channeling the Force through his body to alleviate the slight pain emanating from his knees. 'Need to reign it in a bit. It's been so long since I've been able to truly let go like this that I'm forgetting the basics. Stupid and amateurish. Ashara would've handed me my ass pulling such an idiotic stunt without compensating for the landing.'

Turning his head to face the northern men behind him, Nox found that the militiamen had yet to recover as most were staring at him in opened mouth shock. "It'd be for the best if you all sit this one out." Nox calmly informed them, "I cannot guarantee that I won't kill you by accident if you get in my way."

"Who the fuck are you?"

Turning the other direction, Nox faced off against the Ironborn. The pirates had been much quicker to reorient themselves. The nearly two dozen pirates had managed to form a shield wall of sorts, leaving three men wearing steel plated armor between himself and them. "Who I am is of no consequence to you." Nox replied calmly, address the Ironborn in the lead, a rather unfortunate looking man who had a scar running across his face from temple to mouth. "After all, my name will do you no good once you're dead."

The unfortunate looking Ironborn grinned as he reaffixed his grip on his axe and brought his shield up. "Ha! Finally, a worthy opponent! Come at me! And let me send you to the Dro-"

The hiss of Nox's lightsaber activating cut the man off as Nox disappeared from his sight, only to reappear behind him. "Pathetically slow," Nox muttered.

The unfortunate looking Ironborn didn't even have time to react as Nox's lightsaber bisected him, putting him to the ground in two pieces. The other two Ironborn fared little better as the sudden death of their leader stunned them, giving Nox more than ample time to cut both men down with his lightsaber.

Shaking his head at just how easy it'd been to dispatch three of the pirates, Nox faced off against the dozen Ironborn making up the shield wall. "Well, who's next?"

Three men separated themselves from the others, shooting war cries, something along the lines of 'what is die may never die' as they charged at him, their swords or axes raised and their shields held slightly off to their sides. "You're full of openings," Nox commented dryly as settled into a sorseu guard. "You're all full of openings."

Three quick steps followed with three equally quick cuts, and Nox felled three more Ironborn before the first even knew what'd happened. "I thought that you Ironborn were supposed to be ruthless pirates who fought with the strength of ten men," Nox lamented as he idly twirled his lightsaber in a slow circle to his side. "I'd actually been looking forward to this. I'd hoped that you lot would prove to be something resembling a challenge. But now I see I was sorely mistaken. Such a pity. I guess I'm just going to have to kill you all for wasting my time like this."

The Ironborn broke their line as they all charged him as one, battle lust and anger clouding their judgement. Keeping his movements to the bare minimum, Nox deftly weaved his way in between the charging Ironborn, his lightsaber a blur of motion around him as he cut them down on by one. Time lost meaning as each death he wrought fed into the dark side flowing through him. All too soon for his tastes, it was over. Over a dozen Ironborn lay dead at his feet, limbs separated from bodies and shields and weapons cut into pieces.

Rolling his neck as he allowed the almost euphoric sensation of the dark side coursing through him to subside, Nox turned his attention to the last two remaining Ironborn. They were young. And scared shitless. Literally by the smell emanating from one of the two. Had this been the Empire, he would peg the two as just barely being old enough to be enlisted into the Imperial Army. But that didn't bother him. He'd killed younger. No, what bothered him was the fact that the fight was all but gone from the two.

"How pathetic." Nox groaned, shaking his head. "You two were so eager to kill, rape and reave just a moment ago. But now that you are facing an opponent of my caliber, you're both shitting yourselves. Pathetic. Did it not occur to you that you both might be putting your lives on the line when you came to pillage this town? Or did you think you'd be able to do as you please and leave without harm?"

Both boys turned towards one another, sharing an unspoken conversation before turning back to him. As one, they dropped their shields and weapons and fell to their knees. "Please…" One of the boys whimpered, "Don't kill us!"

Scoffing, Nox deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it onto his belt. "Pathetic." Turning towards the remaining townsfolk, all of whom were staring at Nox in opened mouth awe, he motioned towards the two kneeling boys. "Bind them and bring them to either Lord Stark, who's just passed by the outer wall, or the leader of this town. Lady Dustin, if my memory is correct. Then create a barricade here to protect you from both directions and hold up as best you can until the fighting is over. Lord Stark should be arriving momentarily with reinforcements to aid you and your people."

Not wanting to give the northerners a chance to argue against his orders, Nox leapt back up onto the roof of a nearby house and began moving towards the harbor. Arriving at the docks, Nox found that the Ironborn ships were relatively undefended. The only pirates visible were those that were loading whatever they could carry onto their longboats. Scanning the rest of the docks, Nox grimaced as he took note of the northern sea vessels. Or rather what was left of them. 'Damn it. I really hate it when I'm right sometimes.'

The Ironborn had obviously made disabling the northern ships a priority before they began to raid the town. Almost all the ships were at the very least partially sunk, and those that weren't were put to the torch. 'Well,' Nox thought, summing his lightsaber hilt into his hand. 'Good thing that we the Ironborn were so nice to provide us with replacements.' Drawing on the Force, Nox leapt off the building he'd been standing on, activating his lightsaber in midair and bringing it down onto an unsuspecting pirate, cutting the man clean in two.

The dying scream of the pirate he'd bisected alerted those nearby to Nox's presence. The men all started yelling as they dropped whatever they were carrying and began to scramble for whatever weapons were nearby. "Well then," Nox smiled beneath his mask as he rolled his shoulders. "Let's have some fun."


Riding through the gates of Barrow Town, Ned felt the familiar rush of the wolf within him howling at the prospect of a fight. In the past he'd always suppressed the wolf within. But this time, this time he did the exact opposite. He didn't suppress the wolf, he let it free. Sights, sounds. Everything was clearer to him as he and his one hundred men rode through the gate with their swords drawn, ready to liberate Barrowton.

The first Ironborn they came across didn't stand a chance, as his back was turned towards Ned and his men. A part of Lord Arryn's teachings screamed at him to give the man a warning, a chance to fight back, but the wolf was louder. This man, this Ironborn, dared to attack the North. His people. Like hells was he about to give him a chance. The thundering of the horse's hooves brought the Ironborn man around, but it was far too late as Ice sliced through the air, cutting clean through the man's neck.

Pulling tightly on the reigns of his horse, Ned brought himself around in tight circle, surveying the town around him. "Jory!" He shouted. "Take twenty men with you to the keep! The rest of you, with me! We liberate Barrowton of the Ironborn and throw the bastards back into the sea!"

"Yes, my lord!" Jory shouted, his sword already bloody and the body of an Ironborn near the hooves of his horse. "You twenty, with me! The rest of you ride with our lord! The Warden of the North! The Quiet Wolf!"

The men of House Stark shouted. Their swords raised as the lust for battle took hold. Ned could almost taste their desire to fight on the tip of his tongue. And for once, the thought didn't disgust him. He wanted to fight. He wanted to throw these bastards back into the sea. He wanted them to bleed for daring to attack his people. And by the old gods, he was going to see that through!

Digging his heels into his horse, Ned set off deeper through the wide streets of Barrowton, the eighty men still with him close behind and forming up. The deeper they went into the town, the more and more Ironborn they encountered, but never more than ten or twenty at a time. And while the Ironborn could never be considered cowards, they were not stupid either. The moment those ten to twenty men found themselves facing eighty heavily armored and mounted adversaries, most turned tail and fled. Or rather, they moved into the town and off of the main roads where the men of the North lost their advantage of being on horse in the tight quarters of the side streets.

"Damn it," Ned growled yet another group of Ironborn turned tail and ran into the narrow backstreets the moment Ned and his men descended upon them. The only silver lining to the Ironborn tactics was that they were slowly being funneled out of the town and towards the harbor. But that raised another concern. If the Ironborn managed to retreat to their ships, they would surely set sail immediately and then they would be gone. And while Nox stated that he would be taking care of the harbor, how much could one man truly do against this many?

Turning towards his men, he raised his voice to shout so all could hear him over the sounds of fighting. "Half of you continue this pace through the town and funnel the Ironborn towards the harbor! The other half will ride with me to the harbor! We'll cut the legs out from these Ironborn cunts and send them to their Drowned God after facing northern justice!"

Riding hard, Ned and the remaining forty of his men rode as fast as they could through the streets, heading for the harbor. As they came upon what Ned knew to be the main market of the town near the harbor, they came upon a curious sight. Near two dozen Ironborn pirates were held up in the middle of the street, by a makeshift barricade that'd obviously been hastily constructed in the middle of the street to cut off any retreat.

Rising in his stirrups, Ned cleared his throat and held Ice aloft. "Ironborn! There is no hope for retreat now! Surrender an-"

A sensation, a warning from the wolfsblood made Ned drop down and roll out of his saddle; just in time for a crossbow bolt to pass right where his chest had been and pierce through the armor of one of the men behind him. Making the man tumble out of his saddle with a cry of pain as he clutched at the bolt sticking out of his shoulder.

Quickly rolling to his feet, Ned brought Ice to bare as he stared down the Ironborn that were quickly trying to arrange themselves into some sort of formation to face off against the north men. As much as Ned wanted to just end this, his time in the Vale and under the tutelage of Jon Arryn demanded that he give the doomed men a chance. "Men of the Iron Islands! This is your last chance, surrender now and you may live the rest of your life at the wall. Do not, and your lives end here and now!"

"What is dead may never die!" One of the Ironborn near the front of the pack shouted, to which several behind echoed.

Shaking his head, Ned motioned for his men to form up. "So be it."

The fight, if it could even be called that, lasted for less than a few minutes. Stuck between the makeshift barricade behind them and the northern cavalry in front of them, the Ironborn stood little chance. Within a single pass, nearly half of the Ironborn were dead and the other half quickly lost their nerve, nearly tripping over themselves in order to surrender to the northern forces.

With the remaining Ironborn either dead or surrendering, Ned picked up a discarded cloak and carefully wiped the blood off of Ice as he watched his men round up the remaining reavers. "Lord…Lord Stark."

Turning his attention off of the gathering of the prisoners, Ned spied one of the residents of Barrowton carefully making his way over the barricade, pausing only for a moment to put the club he'd been using to fight down before stopping a respectful few paces away from Ned. "Aye," Ned nodded, sheathing Ice once he was satisfied, he'd gotten all the blood off of the ancient blade. "And what is your name, good man?"

"Thomas, milord." The man said, bowing his head respectfully. "You…You truly are Lord Stark? You…You came…just like he said you would."

"He?" Ned questioned, giving the smallfolk man his full attention.

The man nodded, "Aye, milord. A strange man he was. Dressed all in black, even had a black hood over his head. And he was wearin a mask dat covered his face from the eye. And he wielded a sword made-"

"-of fire. And said sword cut though anything it encountered, didn't it?" Ned finished for the man, to which Thomas nodded. "Where did he go?"

The man blinked, then turned and waved towards the south. "He went that way, milord, towards the harbor. Said we'd go with him we would, but he told us to stay here and wait for you, milord. Said it'd be safer."

"And he was right on that assumption." Ned muttered to himself before turning towards his men. "Ten of you, stay here with the people and aid them in fighting off any lingering Ironborn reavers. The rest of you with me, we ride for the harbor and aid Master Nox."

Climbing back onto his horse, the smallfolk of Barrowton made quick work in creating a narrow path that would allow the cavalry to pass through their barricade two at a time. Strangely enough, their time between the barricade and the harbor passed without incident with nary an Ironborn in sight. A fact which set Ned on edge, as well as many of his men. But when they arrived at the harbor, the reason for the lack of Ironborn became very apparent.

"Gods save us," one of the men near him muttered as the harbor came into a view. It was a sentiment that was echoed by many of his men.

Ned was of mind to agree with his men. The harbor had been turned into a graveyard. Dozens of Ironborn lay dead across the docks, some in pieces. Worst of all, almost all the northern vessels that'd been anchored on the docks were scuttled. But thankfully enough, the Ironborn long ships were still intact. Abandoned, yet intact.

"My lord!" one of his men shouted, pointing westwards down the docks. "Movement over there!"

Pulling his horse around, Ned followed where his man was pointing. "To arms, men!" Ned shouted, raising Ice as he spotted a lone reaver running towards them, a crazed look in the man's eye. But despite expecting more to appear behind him, the reaver stood alone against the men of House Stark. 'What drives a man to attack such numbers alone?'

Without warning, the reaver froze mid step. His eyes widened with fear as he was suddenly hoisted into the air while clutching at his throat as if some invisible force had a hold of him. The man flailed about in the air for a second before flying backwards away from Ned. His movements ceased when a bright red blade erupted from the center of his chest, ending his life. The blade was wrench free and the body tossed aside, revealing Nox to be the one that ended the reaver's life.

Ned was not a follower of the Seven, no matter what some believed. But in the that moment, seeing Nox in black garb and mask, blood red sword held at his side and the cold feeling of death that almost seemed to be radiating from the man, Ned honestly would've sworn that Nox was the Stranger incarnate. 'This…This is what he meant when he explained that a Darth is death itself. He was not lying on that matter.'

"Lord Stark, I regret to inform you that the Ironborn managed to destroy most of the Northern vessels before I could arrive," Nox's voice was calm, almost devoid of everything, as if he were merely discussing the weather with him instead of delivering a report on a battle while surrounded by dozens of dead. "However, I have managed to procure the North a fleet of Ironborn long ships. They won't be needing them anymore."

"Aye, I can see that," Ned nodded, taking note of the dead reavers scattered throughout the harbor. Sheathing Ice, an action which prompted the rest of him men to follow suit, Ned pulled his horse around. "You men will stay here and secure the harbor and take any Ironborn still alive prisoner if possible. You there, give your horse to Master Nox. I need to have words with Lady Dustin." His men immediately moved to follow his commands. The soldier he'd told to dismount did so immediately, allowing Nox to take his horse in turn.

"So, what can we expect from this Lady Dustin?" Nox asked him as the two rode away from the docks and towards the main keep of Barrowton. "When you mentioned her before, I sensed trepidation in you. Why would that be? She is your banner lady, is she not?"

"Aye, she is," Ned nodded. "But there is…history between Bethany Dustin and House Stark. Unfortunately, it is not a pleasant history. And that is all that I will say on the matter for now."

"As you wish," Nox conceded, as the two continued in silence.

As they rode up the hill that housed the main keep of Barrowton, Barrow Hall, Nox took the time to carefully examine the seat of House Dustin. While the keep itself was made of stone, the walls surrounding the keep were made primarily of wood with stone square towers. Not that ideal for defense, but its position upon the hill did give it the defensive capabilities to fight off invaders.

As Nox and Stark rode through the main gates of Barrow Hall, the dozens of men milling about the courtyard immediately ceased whatever they were doing and turned towards them. Almost as one, the men of the yard began cheering for the two. Their relief that the assault on their town had ended was so thick in the air that Nox could almost taste it. But despite the joyful atmosphere surrounding them, there was a black spot. A pool of…well, 'hatred' was not quite the right word. Disdain was more apt. The black whorl of emotion stood in such contrast to the rest of the people celebrating in the yard that it stood out like a search light in the dark.

'Lady Barbery Dustin, no doubt.' Nox thought, focusing in on the tall and relatively attractive woman standing with her back straight at the entrance to the main keep. 'A complicated, unpleasant history indeed, Stark, if this is her reaction to your mere presence. Even after you and your men helped to liberate her city from Ironborn reavers.'

Despite her internal feelings towards her liege Lord, Lady Dustin kept her outward appearance completely devoid of all emotion as Nox and Stark dismounted from their horses less than a few paces away from the entrance of the keep. "Lord Stark," Lady Dustin greeted her liege Lord coolly, her eyes briefly passing over Nox before dismissing him and refocusing on Stark. "Your assistance is…welcome. I'm glad to see that you brought more than a stallion with you this time."

The remark was spiked with utter contempt from Lady Dustin and brought about a quick ping of remorse within Stark. "Lady Dustin," Stark returned her greeting just as coolly. "Barrowton is of the North, as I am. I will do whatever I can to defend its people. I am heartened that we were able to arrive before the reavers managed to do too much damage."

Keeping his distance, Nox carefully observed the verbal volleying between Stark and Lady Dustin. While he hadn't truly considered Stark to be completely politically savvy, this interaction alone proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn't a complete novice. "Yes, heartening indeed," Lady Dustin acknowledged. "And tell me, how many reavers managed to escape from the harbor and how many Northern ladies have they taken to rape? Or northern men to turn into thralls on their ships?"

"None," Stark countered quickly, drawing Lady Dustin up short. "Master Nox here managed to cut off the Ironborn's escape long enough for the men of House Stark and your own House to bring the raid to complete end without a single reaver ship managing to escape."

At the mention of his name, Nox could hear several murmurs of 'sorcerer' being muttered about the yard. 'Interesting. It seems that my reputation has indeed spread throughout the North quickly. Amazing, considering this lands lack of quick information exchange.'

As for Lady Dustin, she turned her attention back to him, her disdain diminishing and being replaced with a bought of curiosity. "Ah, your foreign sorcerer. We've heard tales of him. Each more unlikely than the last."

A challenge. Despite her obvious disdain for all things related to the Starks, Nox found himself taking a liking to the woman. Not one individual since he'd made an example of the Stark guardsmen on his first day in Winterfell had dared to talk to him so. It was…refreshing, after a fashion. "I assure you, Lady Dustin," Nox replied, stepping forward and taking a slight bow with a smirk firmly in place. "If anything, the stories that you have heard of me have been greatly watered down."

Lady Dustin stared at him, as if she were trying to figure out if he was trying to play her for a fool. "Time will tell, Master Nox," she said, cutting his title sharply before moving back to Stark. "I'm afraid that with your sudden arrival and the turmoil that we just experienced, I cannot have rooms prepared for you and your men within Barrow Hall at this moment, Lord Stark."

Nor did she want to have rooms available either, Nox noted, seeing through her ploy with relative ease. Stark didn't seem to mind in the least however, as he merely nodded. "You and your people come first, my Lady. I see will see to it that I and my men are situated in town. And we shall pay for our time here as well."

Obviously whatever reaction Lady Dustin expected from Stark, him simply going along with her denial of giving him rooms and offering to pay for his stay as well was not among them. "I see," Lady Dustin nodded slowly. "Well then, if there is nothing else, Lord Stark, I must beg your leave. There is much work still to be done in the aftermath of this attack."

"Of course, Lady Dustin," Stark agreed. "Should you have need of my men, you need only ask."

Without waiting for another word, Lady Dustin turned heel and marched back into the keep. Leaving her men rushing to keep up with her retreating form. "Well," Nox chuckled once the doors to Barrow Hall closed. "That's an interesting woman. And I can see what you mean by a complicated history. That woman…"

"Hates me," Stark finished for him. "Aye, I know."

"No, I wouldn't say hate." Nox replied. "That's too simple a word. Disdain I think is more apt. And, if I do say so, Lord Stark, such feelings are usually not garnered without reason."

Turning away from Barrow Hall and Nox, Stark easily swung himself back up into his saddle. "That…is a long story Nox."

Shrugging, Nox hefted himself back up into the saddle, wincing slightly at the saddle sores that he knew were developing on his thighs. "Well, we have a week at best before the closest of your bannermen begin to arrive. I'd say we have time for a 'long story'."

Flicking his reigns, Stark led the two of them away from Barrow Hall and back into the streets of Barrowton. "I suppose to tell the tale correctly, I need to go back to when I was but a boy and fostered in the Vale and my elder brother Brandon was sent to foster in the Rills under House Ryswell, Lady Dustin's House of birth."


While Nox and Stark had been hoping to spend only a week or two at best in Barrowton, they'd ended up spending nearly three before the last of the Northern Lords who were to ride with Stark managed to all arrive. Thankfully the time had been well spent repairing what few Northern sea vessels were salvageable and altering the Ironborn long boats to better suit their needs. But even after spending nearly a month in Barrowton, that was only the start of the waiting. They then had to spend another week on the seas before they managed to arrive at the Iron Isles.

And after over a month of doing next to nothing, Nox was growing more than slightly anxious. Anxious for the chance to finally cut lose once more. To utilize the Force to its fullest. The fight once more. 'I'm going to have to develop a new means of faster travel.' Nox thought to himself as he stood near the bow of the ship carrying himself, Stark and the men of House Stark. 'The problem is, what type of propulsion would be feasible in this era? A piston engine, perhaps. But there in lays the problem. No one has used such a propulsion system in many thousands of years! The idea is simple enough…but how to execute it is another matter completely.'

As the ship slowly pulled towards the docks, Nox put aside thoughts for the future and refocused himself on the here and now. He had a war to win after all. Stepping off the northern sea vessel, Nox took in the town of Lordsport, the main port town belonging the island of Pyke, the home of Castle Pike and the seat of House Greyjoy. The town was, to put it mildly, a shit hole. But that wasn't necessarily the Iron Islanders' fault. The forces belonging to the crown, the Westerlands, the Reach and the Riverlands had done a number on the settlement. Numerous buildings had been burned down to the ground and the dead were still laying in piles in the streets while the victors drunkenly celebrated in the streets.

"I hate war," Lord Stark mumbled next to him as the two men made their way off the docks with Jory Cassel and Ser Rodrik Cassel flanking them on either side. Several of men at arms stopped their celebrating as they noticed their arrival. But besides that, they did nothing to stop them from entering the ruined remains of the town.

"Pathetic." Nox mumbled, not caring the least that the drunken celebrators could hear him. "Not one person has tried to question our arrival. Even though over half of our fleet were made of Ironborn vessels, they did nothing to halt us from approaching their main camp. Incompetence doesn't even begin to describe it."

"I would not have put it so," Lord Stark said back. "But you are correct. Victory is no reason for watchers being lax in their duties."

Rounding a building, the two men and their escort found themselves before a small castle. Although again, to call it a castle was being generous. The building was little more than a stone mansion that had a wooden palisade surrounding it. "King Robert will be in there." Lord Stark stated, turning towards Nox. "I'll go and announce our arrival. Try not to get into trouble."

"You wound me, Lord Stark," Nox replied almost mockingly. "I don't get into trouble. Trouble just has a habit of finding me wherever I go."

Stark snorted in mild amusement. "I'll believe that when I see it. Jory, stay with him. Ser Rodrik, you're with me."

"Yes, my lord," Ser Rodrik and Jory said at the same time before the elder marched to follow his liege Lord.

Once the two men were beyond the palisade, Nox turned on his heel and marched back into town. He'd sensed something the moment they docked, and he was not about to let what he sensed continue any longer. Not while he was around. "Gods, Master Nox, slow down!" Jory called out to him as the younger man had to nearly jog to keep up with him. "Where are you going in such a hurry? The battle for the town is long over."

"The battle may be over," Nox replied. "But the fighting has not yet ceased."

Coming to the outskirts of town, the two men found themselves staring at a larger house just beyond the border of the town near the shoreline. Standing just outside the house were two men dressed in leather armor and armed with one-handed swords that were hanging off their waists. Both men were filled with…glee and pride. And complete lack of caring for what was going on behind them, save that they wanted a chance themselves. He didn't need to reach out with the Force to know that this house was the source of the disturbance he'd felt. "Jory, you might want to go and fetch Lord Stark."

The young captain looked first at Nox and then towards the house in the distance. "Those are Westerland men…Master Nox…what are you—?"

"You'd best run, Jory," Nox remarked as he began marching towards the house. "Lord Stark will want to know that I'm about to start some trouble."

To his credit, Jory didn't hesitate. The moment Nox had finished speaking, the young captain was already making for the small castle as fast as his legs could carry him.

As he got closer to the house, he could hear them. A pair of cries and screams for mercy coming from within the house. 'Civilized society, my ass,' Nox growled as he let the dark side fuel him as he marched closer and closer to the house. The two men standing outside remained completely oblivious to his presence until he was almost right on top of them. And even then, the only reason they noticed him was because they both shivered as Nox extended his presence outwards.

"H – Halt," one of the men said nervously as Nox continued to channel more and more of the dark side into himself and forcing his presence outwards to the point where both men were visibly shaking. "W – Who are you a–and why ar—?"

He didn't give the man the chance to finish. The moment he reached them, he lashed out with his right fist, burying it into the man's diaphragm. This forced all the air out of his lungs and made him collapse in a heap on the ground. The second guard managed to only get an inch of steel pulled from his sheath before Nox's right hook caught the man in the jaw. Like his counterpart, the man went down in a heap as he cradled his more than likely broken jaw, leaving Nox with no opposition.

Stepping up to the door, he raised his foot and kicked out. The door didn't just give way. No, the force of his kick sent tore the door clean off its hinges and flung it clear across the small room beyond. For just a split second, Nox stared at what he'd done with more than a hint of embarrassed surprise. 'Okay…maybe a little too much anger there.'

Stepping into the house, Nox surveilled the scene beyond in a split second. And his anger reached a level he'd not felt in a long, long time. There were four men in the room. One was dead and three were without pants. One man was holding an older woman face down while a second was thrusting into her from behind. And the third, their leader judging by the better armor he was wearing, was forcing himself upon a girl who looked as if she had just entered her teenage years, if that.

"What the fuck?!" the man who'd been forcing himself up the young girl yelled. His pig-like face contorted into a snarl, but he kept going at the girl. "If you want a fucking turn, then you'll have to fucking wait."

Nox crossed the expanse in the time it took most to blink. Grabbing a fistful of the man's armor, the steel folding in on itself within his grip, Nox turned and hurled the man through the wall of the house, creating a man-sized hole in the wall. The other two men started to scramble for their weapons, the older woman laying forgotten in a pile of her own tears. Lashing out with his foot, Nox caught the first in the jaw and the second in the gut, putting both men down. Grabbing a leg of each man in each hand, Nox dragged the two offenders to the entrance and threw them both on top of their Lording leader who'd yet to right himself.

Turning his back on the five groaning men outside, Nox took in the sight of the two women before him. The older woman had managed to recover enough to cross the room to the younger girl and had wrapped her up in her arms, her modesty completely forgotten as she laid bare before him.

Nox took a half step towards the two women, but then stopped as the young girl started crying again the older woman flinched at his presence. Squatting down slowly, Nox picked up one of the discarded red cloaks on the floor and tossed it over to the older woman. "Cover yourselves. But stay close to me. I'm not done yet."

Turning on his heel, Nox marched out of the house. Just outside, the three pants-less men and two still fully clothed men had managed to get back to their feet. Predictably, all were now sporting bruises and cuts from where he'd hit them.

"You…You fucking idiot!" the leader screamed at him. "Do you have any fucking idea who I am? I am—!"

"A dead man," Nox monotoned, cutting the Lord off mid-rant. "A naked dead man with incredible small cock at that."

The pig-faced man went completely red faced. "Give me a fucking sword! I'm cutting this fucker down right here and no—!"

"What the fuck is going on here?"

The five men in red armor all immediately dropped to their knees, but Nox remained standing as a group of ten men approached. He could make out Lord Stark near the front, but the man in the lead made Nox nearly scoff. His first impression of the King of Westeros's presence was not encouraging. 'This…This is King Robert? The man is rage, pride, and lust that is barely able to be contained. He's nothing more than a berserker. A blunt instrument you point at your enemies and then stand aside and let him kill them and himself to save yourself the trouble of having to do it later… And he's drunk. Wonderful.' Just as he was about to dismiss the party for the moment, he sensed it and refocused his attention back in on the group. One of the men was a balding redhaired man that was a few paces behind the King, and he was Force sensitive. Not only that, but he'd had formal training. Admittedly, rather poor formal training, but nonetheless it was training.

Once they were close enough, King Robert took his time staring at Nox before giving a passing glance towards the five kneeling men. "For fuck's sake, Lorch, get some gods damned pants on. No one wants to see that pathetic excuse for a cock you have."

"Yes, your grace," the newly named Lorch mumbled, scrambling to his feet and back away with the others in search of clothes.

"Don't go too far," Nox called out, making the five men hesitate. "We are not finished yet."

"Not finished yet?" King Robert mimicked him, taking a step towards him. "And who exactly are you? And what isn't finished yet?"

"Your grace," Lord Stark stated, stepping forward beside Robert. "This is Master Alim Nox. A foreign wanderer from beyond Essos who entered my service after aiding House Stark by saving the life of my bastard son over a month ago."

"Alim Nox?" King Robert questioned, looking back and forth between Lord Stark and Nox. "What a strange fucking name. But a friend of Ned's is a friend of mine. But regardless of that, foreigner, you stand before a King. Remove your helm and show me your face. Unless you're as ugly as the Hound here, then keep it on."

Deciding that it simply wasn't worth the effort to argue, Nox lowered his hood and removed his mask from his face. The instant his face was revealed, harsh whispers broke out amongst the crowd as anger and confusion spiked throughout the crowd. The most prominent of sensations belong to the King of Westeros, whose anger and rage almost threatened to boil over. And for once, it wasn't because of the black cloth that he had wrapped around his eyes. "Silver hair…Ned, what the fuck is the meaning of this?!"

"He may have the look of a Valyrian, your grace, but I guarantee you that he is not a dragon." Lord Stark responded immediately. "And he is no supporter of the dragons either. Do you truly think I would allow him to stay in my hall if he was after what happened?"

The King looked pensive for a moment before shaking his head, "No. You know better than to treat with those sister-fucking dragons."

Nox could feel…something come from a young man that was standing beside the King. Something almost like, amusement mixed with hatred. It was a strange combination and one that he couldn't fully decipher.

"Aye, that I do," Ned said simply, but again Nox could pick up on something coming from the Lord of Winterfell. Something almost like…shame. Stark had become increasingly skilled in hiding his emotions from him ever since he'd stopped holding back his Force potential, but every now and then Nox could still pick up on the overwhelming feeling of shame. Usually when he was staring at young Jon. 'You have your secrets, Lord Stark. But no secret is safe from me.'

"So, tell me," Robert cut back to him. "Why the fuck are you wearing that shit around your eyes? You blind or something?"

Smirking, Nox reached up and untied the cloth, revealing his scars and unseeing eyes. "Yes, I am."

One of Roberts eyebrows rose before he let out a loud laugh. "Ha! Fucking blind and he still handed five of your men their asses, Tywin!"

"Perhaps, your grace," an older man that was bursting with pride stated, stepping forth. "We should focus on just why this man felt it prudent to attack my men."

'Ah, this would be Tywin Lannister.' Of all the Lords in Westeros, the old Lion was the one he'd wanted to meet the most. Mostly because he wanted to see the man that he considered to be more Sith than anyone else. 'Interesting. While he is mildly aggravated at someone assaulting his men, he seems more aggravated with the fact that his men not only let it happen, but that they were caught in while doing something unbecoming as well.'

"What?" Robert questioned, clearly confused for a moment before remembering what it was that'd brought him here. "Oh, right. Well? What do you have to say for yourself, foreigner?"

Looking over his shoulder, Nox motioned for the two women to come out. Muttering broke out as the mother and daughter, still dropped in red cloaks, cautiously stepped out of the house. Their eyes were fixed firmly on the ground as the mother kept a firm hold on her daughter.

"Simple," Nox replied. "I was stopping crime from being committed. Unless I am mistaken, rape is still a crime, is it not?"

"It is," a voice sounded immediately, sounding much like the king's only, stricter and more rigid. "As is striking a Lord of Westeros. The penalty for which is ten lashings to the back."

'This must be the King's brother. Their auras are familiar enough. However, where the king is relaxed, this man…Hell, he could make a Jedi seem lenient.' "The day that I take lashings for stopping a rapist, regardless of his station, is the day that you can kiss your own ass."

He could sense the King's brother tense, but the King just laughed again, as did several of the men around them. "Fucking hells, Ned. I like this man! No wonder you brought him into your home. And Stannis, fucking shut it. This man has the right of it."

The newly named Stannis remained stoic, even though Nox could sense the brewing storm beneath the surface. 'If there was ever a man who needed to get laid, it's him. Although, judging by his brother's character, he probably spends most of his time running around trying to clean up his brother's mess.'

"Regardless," Stannis growled. "If he is to cite the law as precedence for his actions, then he too must abide by it."

"Lord Stannis is correct in this matter, your grace," Lord Tywin cut in, although Nox could detect the slight note of distaste in his voice at having to address the King with such deference. "My men committed a heinous act and should be reprimanded, but this man committed a similar act by striking a Lord when he holds no title. At least not one that is recognized by the Crown."

Nox nearly laughed at the somewhat obvious ploy in Tywin's scheme. He didn't give two shits that his men were raping a mother and her daughter. He could sense that much. But Tywin was obviously interested in him and wanted to see what he would do once backed into a corner. 'Well, if he wants a show, then I'll be glad to give it to him. Besides, it'll be a good way to work off some pent-up energy thanks to that excruciating boat ride. Honestly, I think I need to put in proper propellent systems for ships onto my list of things to help Westeros 'invent'.'

"It seems that we are at an impasse then, your grace," Nox shrugged as the King looked back and forth between Lord Tywin and himself. "So, I propose a solution. Two parties have committed a wrong, although neither side will admit to such. So, let us solve this amongst ourselves: a Trial by Combat. Myself against those five."

He could see Lord Stark sag in defeat, while Lord Tywin's curiosity began spiked once more. And the King, the King almost looked…giddy. "A Trial by Combat, eh?" Robert asked before chuckling. "I got to admit, you have balls, blindman. You do know that per Westeros Law, a Trial by Combat has only one outcome. Death. Are you really willing to take on those odds for those two?"

Turning his head so that it seemed he was looking behind him, Nox watched as the mother and daughter, both still trembling and fear after the ordeal they suffered, looked on with a sudden hope. "Yes, I am," Nox replied simply, turning back to the King.

Robert's grin was nearly wide enough to split his face in two. "Ha! I love that fucking confidence blindman. Tywin, get those fuckers over here! They have a Trial to participate in!"

Tywin gave a curt nodded and left to go retrieve his men while the other Lords and soldiers backed away to create a ring around Nox. All save for Lord Stark. Instead of backing away with the rest, the Warden of the North approached Nox, his anger barely held in check.

"Nox," Stark hissed lowly so that only the two of them could hear. "I thought I told you not to make any trouble!"

Shrugging, Nox rolled his shoulders and twisted to loosen the muscles in his back. "And I told you, Lord Stark, that trouble usually has a way of finding me."

Lord Stark's frustration mounted as he turned and cast a glance towards the King. "I haven't told Robert or the other Lords about your…abilities yet."

"Good," Nox smirked slightly more broadly when he felt Ned's confusion spike momentarily. "Then they won't be ready for it then."

Groaning, Stark pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Nox, why are you doing this, truly? Is this someway of making your mark on Westeros and the other Lords? To show off what you can do? Tell me now or I will end this farce here and now."

Dropping his good mood, Nox met the stern look of the Warden of the North with one of his own. "I told you before we left Winterfell, Lord Stark, that I can tolerate a lot. But there is one thing I cannot tolerate. And that is rape of any form. I warned you of what I would do should I discover anyone committing such a vile act. Did you think that my words were in jest?"

Scanning the crowd, he could feel the resignation set in within Stark. "Just…don't do anything too…"

"Flashy?" Nox asked, regaining some of his good humor, especially at the prospect of killing rapists. One of his favorite pastimes. "Don't worry Lord Stark. I could end these five with both arms tied behind my back and my legs bound together. I won't need to do anything fanciful to end this."

"Good," Stark nodded as he turned to depart, only to stop after taking a single step. "And between us. I approve of what you're doing. That man, Lorch…He has had this coming for a long time. But I was powerless to see it happen. So, while I chastise you for doing this, in the same breath I thank you for those who can no longer speak."

There was no need for Stark to elaborate further, Nox knew exactly what he was talking about. The death of Elia Martel and her two children at the end of the Rebellion at the hands of Lorch and another named Gregor Clegane. Once Lord Stark was safely out of the circle of men, Nox stepped into the center and waited as Lord Lannister reappeared with his five men in tow. 'Well then…let the fun begin.'


Making his way out of the makeshift ring that'd been formed just outside of Lordsport, Ned took his place beside Robert just as Lord Tywin returned with Ser Lorch and the other five men. Part of Ned, a part that he fought to keep buried, was a little jealous at what was about to happen. Nox was about to dispense a long overdue justice. A justice Ned had wanted to have a hand in for years.

"Well, Ned, sorry that you're going to be losing a man sworn to yourself so soon." Robert sighed as he took a swig from an ale horn. 'When did he get that? He'd downed two before coming out here. And now he has a third?'

"Lord Stark won't be losing anyone, your grace." Looking to his side, Ned spotted the man who'd just spoke. Like the king, he too held a horn of ale, but that was where the similarities ended. The man was tall like Robert, but he was mostly bald and had a rough red beard that was dripping with wine. But what was more interesting was the fact that none of the Kingsguard were preventing his approach. A new drinking friend more than likely.

"Ah, Thoros, your red god tell you that Nox is going to win in some fire vision, or whatever shit you believe in?"

"No," Thoros shrugged, taking a long drink. "I can…sense it. There is something about him. Something that I haven't felt in a long, long time. He will win. In fact, I'll put twenty dragons on him."

"Ha! You're on!" Robert laughed, clapping the man on the back. "In fact, I'll even through in a bottle of Arbor Gold as well."

'This isn't a fucking game,Robert,' Ned wanted to curse his friend, but he held his tongue. It wouldn't matter what he said. His friend would do as he pleased. Always had and always would.

After Lorch and the other five Lannister men arrived in the center of the ring, Lord Lannister left the men and made his way to stand near the King. 'They managed to get ready fast,' Ned thought, observing the six men, all of whom had donned boiled leather armor save for Ser Lorch who was dressed in full plate steel. 'Not that any of it will matter much. If Nox draws his lightsaber, this battle will be over before it can begin.'

"Well, let's get started." Robert announced loudly, taking a step into the ring. "I, King Robert first of his name do hereby proclaim this Trial by Combat for the crimes of rape and assaulting a Lord of the Westeros and – ah fuck it. You all know the rest. Get going before I piss myself already!"


Upon the King's command, Nox reaffixed his mask while the five Westerland men all drew their swords. Nox had to give the men credit, they were not idle during their brief departure. All five were fully dressed once again. Four of the men were wearing what looked like boiled leather with bits of steel woven in to reinforce vital points on their body and each were wearing a steel helm. Lorch on the other hand, was fully dressed in plate steel armor and was wearing a helm that was looked to have been fashioned after some sort of creature that looked to be a cross between a lion and a bat.

But before anyone could move, Nox held up his hand. "If you permit it, your grace, I wish to ask two things."

The King grumbled, displeased that they hadn't started killing each other yet, but nodded his consent.

"Thank you," Nox nodded, making to face the Lord of the Westerland. "Firstly, Lord Lannister, I apologize for the loss of your men. But I will not suffer rapist to walk free, no matter their status or the colors they wear. And the second, is to ask if you men have any last words you wish to speak. Or if any of you wish to take the Black, this is your last opportunity to do so." The five Westerland men seemed taken aback for a moment. But then Ser Lorch began to laugh, a full gut laugh that prompted the other men to start laughing as well.

"Last words!? Take the Black?" Ser Lorch laughed. "That's fucking rich coming for you, blindman! The Trial hasn't even started yet! And you're outnumbered five to fucking one! And you don't even have a fucking weapon on you! But if you want last words then how about this? Once I kill you, I'm taking your fucking helm and hanging it on my wall!"

Rolling his neck, Nox let his anger run through him as the dark side of the Force permeated his being. "I am afraid you are mistaken." Nox growled, the dark side tainting his voice even more than his helm did, while around him the men nearest to him began to shiver slightly as they felt the residual effects of the dark side. "This is no trial. This is your execution."

"Like fuck it is!" the man closest to Nox screamed before he raised his sword and charged at him, looking to cleave him in half with an overhead swing.

At the last moment, Nox stepped almost casually to the side, letting the sword fall past him. Using the Force to augment his speed, Nox moved faster than most could follow. Before the man could recover from his wild swing, Nox kicked out with his right foot onto the side of the fool's knee. The tendons and ligaments snapped beneath the force of the blow and made the man scream in agony as his knee gave way and brining him to the ground. Then, before the man could scream a second time, Nox reached out with both hands and took a firm hold of his chin in one hand and the back of his head in the other. Then, with a quick jerk, he snapped the man's neck with enough force to actually turn his head around backwards.

"That's one," Nox drawled, letting go of the man as he fell to the ground, dead.

The four remaining Westerland men had gone stiff as a board, as did most of the assembled crowed, as they all stared at the corpse at Nox's feet. Nox could feel the fear emanating from the four men remaining, as well as the awe, fear, and curiosity that was pouring out from the crowd.

"Well?" Nox asked, beckoning the remaining men forward with his right hand. "Are we going to fight? Or you lot just going to lay down and die?"

His words snapped the remaining four men out of their stupor as they all started approaching him far more cautiously than the last fool. Stepping forward, Nox remained completely passive as the four men separated and slowly began surrounding him. Once he was surrounded, Nox turned in a slow circle so that he could face each man one by one.

"What are you all waiting for? An engraved invitation?" he asked mockingly, holding out his arms to the side.

The man to his back struck first, no doubt hoping to catch him by surprise, his blade aiming for his neck. But instead, all it found was air as Nox calmly ducked under the swing and back peddled. Once behind the man, he grabbed him by the back of his armor near his neck and physically moved him to his right. And put him right in the path of Ser Lorch's blade, which pierced through the man's leather armor and sunk into his heart. Kicking sideways, Nox put his foot into the back of the dying man and forced him into Lorch, putting both to the ground.

Twisting his body sideways, Nox evaded the thrust from another Westerland man. Spinning in a tight circle, Nox lashed out with his hand, his fingers curled slightly which allowed him to extend the claws on his gauntlets. The claws dug into the soft flesh of the man's throat up to Nox's third knuckle. Curling his fingers, Nox ripped his hand out, taking the man's larynx with him. Still holding onto the bloody piece, Nox calmly sidestepped as the man fell forward, clutching at his ruined throat. As the man fell, he reached out and ripped the cloak off the man's back. "Two and three."

Dropping the larynx, Nox started calmly wiping the blood off his right hand as he faced the last remaining foot solider. The man was positively shaking where he stood. And the wet spot in the man's pants gave testament to just how scared he was. Not the mention the smell that was emanating off him indicating he'd soiled himself in both manners. 'Unbelievable.' "Well," Nox sighed, checking his hand over. "We going to fight or what?"

The man stood stock still for a long moment before he made a move. And that move was to turn tail and run as fast as he could away from Nox. Shaking his head, Nox slipped his foot underneath one of the fallen men's swords and kicked it up into the air. With a single motion, Nox turned, caught the sword by the hilt and then sent it end over end, chasing after the fleeing man as the surrounding ring parted around him. The man let out a single gurgled scream as he clutched at his ruined throat when the blade buried itself into the back of his neck and exited the front.

Turning his back on the dying man, Nox faced off against Lorch, who'd only just now managed to regain his footing and was holding his sword in a middle guard across his body. "And that's four. Now, it is finally one-on-one, Ser Armory Lorch."

He could practically smell the terror that was coming off the man. His legs were quivering, and the tip of his sword was wavering ever so slightly as he stood before him. Lorch's beady eyes flickered from one corpse to the other before coming to a rest on Nox. "You think I'm scared of you, fucker?! You think the fact that you killed these men makes you better than me! You're not!"

Shaking his head, Nox folded his hands behind his back, completely at ease even though he and this man were in a fight to the death. "Bravado. Pure bravado. You can shout all you want, but you and I know the truth. You're scared shitless. So much so, that you can barely even keep your blade steady."

Growling, Lorch reaffixed his grip on his sword, some of his shaking leaving him. "Believe what you want! But I've killed men far greater than you!"

"No, you haven't," Nox nearly laughed. "But I will forgive your lack of understanding. You see, you were raised with a very narrow-minded view of power. You think that your name gives you power. Or perhaps it is your muscles, or your high-quality armor, or you castle-forged sword, or even your skill with said sword. Or perhaps you believe that gold holds true power. While many believe these things define power, they are not my definition of power."

Turning his body slightly with his right foot forward, he regarded his opponent. "Come, I will educate you on my definition of power."

He didn't have to wait long. His words had riled Lorch up to the point where most rational thought had left his mind, not that there was much there to begin with. Bellowing out a vicious cry, Lorch charged Nox with his sword held high, ready to cut Nox in two. Despite his cry and charge, Nox didn't move. When less than five paces separated the two, Lorch's eyes narrowed as Nox held his ground, his hands still behind his back. With less than two paces between them, Lorch brought his sword down in a vicious arc. Yet still, Nox kept his hands behind his back. Only when the blade was within arm's length did Nox move. His left hand snapping out from around his back and reaching out.

Lorch's eyes widened as his movements were brought to an abrupt stop. Around the ring, every man and the few women present looked on with wide eyes at the impossible feat they were watching. Nox, still standing calmly, had his left hand outstretched. And in his hand, pinched between his fingers and thumb, was the edge of Lorch's sword.

"Pathetic." Nox growled, wrenching the blade to the side before backhanding Lorch across the chest with his right hand with enough force to throw the armored man onto his back ten feet away from Nox.

"Do you see know?" Nox asked as Lorch stared up at him from his spot on the ground, a hand sized dent in the chest of his armor from where Nox struck him. "The difference between us stems from our definitions of power. And you can never even dream of reaching my level. This fight is over. So, do us both a favor and fall on your sword already. I really don't feel like expending the energy it would take to end your life. It's like asking the King to throw out a shit bucket."

Shaking his head, Lorch rolled back onto his feet, his sword held firmly before him. "Fuck you, you foreign bastard! I'm not fucking dead yet! I'm going to fucking gut you just like I did that little dragon whore!"

Sighing, Nox shook his head. "Well, so much for mercy." He muttered, letting the dark side fill him.

Letting out another war cry, Lorch charged again, this time his sword held level with the ground, aimed right for Nox's chest. When he'd managed to cross half the distance Nox raised his hand and reached out with the Force, grabbing and holding Lorch frozen mid-step. Dozens of voices most of them being southern called out in surprise at Nox's almost casual display of magic. The air around them became saturated in emotion as some men even dropped to their knees and began muttering prays asking for safety. Even the king seemed surprised, his eyes widened, and his jaw lowered. Only three men maintained their calm. Lord Stark, Lord Stannis Baratheon and Lord Lannister.

"As I said," Nox remarked, taking a step forward, his hand still outstretched as he ignored the mutterings going on around him. "The difference between us is one that you could never hope to cross. I had planned on granting you a quick death, but not anymore. No. I think you're going to have to suffer a bit first before I allow you to die."

Stepping up so the two were almost face to face, Nox held up his open hand and slowly began to close his fist. At first, nothing seemed to be happening. But then Lorch's eyes twitched and he grunted. His armor on his body began to dent as Nox applied more and more pressure onto the would-be knight. Lorch held on for a time, but soon enough he couldn't hide what was happening as his own armor began crushing him. A loud snap was echoed with Lorch's cry of agony as the man collapsed when the bones in his legs all broke nearly simultaneously.

"Lord…Tywin!" Lorch cried, spitting blood from his mouth as he desperately searched for his liege Lord as his armor constricted around him, crushing him to death. "Help…me!"

Despite the cry, the Lord of the Westerlands merely watched on as his man was slowly crushed to death before his eyes by a seemingly invisible force being controlled by Nox. But unlike most, who were staring at Nox in horror, Tywin seemed, contemplative. "The gods have spoken, Ser Lorch." Lord Lannister called out over the cries of his bannerman. "And you have been found guilty. May you find peace with the gods."

Betrayal. Fear. Anguish. All passed through Lorch as he stared at his liege Lord while his armor crushed him. "Lord Tywin!" Lorch screamed as his ribs began grinding against one another before breaking. "Mercy!"

"Enough!" A loud clear voice cut through the cries of Lorch, making everyone turn towards its source.

Lord Stark was standing just before the king, a look of anger on his face as he stared down Lorch and then up towards Nox. "The gods have decreed, Nox. The trial is over. End it."

'Soft hearted,' Nox sighed. 'He hasn't yet come to realize that sometimes a statement needs to be made' "As you wish, Lord Stark," Nox nodded, releasing Lorch.

What was left of the knight collapsed to the ground, blood running freely down his mouth as he moaned in agony. Reaching into the folds of his robe, Nox pulled out his lightsaber. A snap-hiss sounded through the ring as all the gathered southern men save for Lord Stark and Lannister involuntarily took a step back in response to the sudden appearance of Nox's lightsaber. Stepping forward, Nox made two quick slashes. The first separated Lorch's hands from his arms. And the second separated his head from his neck.

Deactivating his lightsaber, Nox used the Force to pick up the severed hands, followed by the summoning of a cloak to wrap the hands in. Once they were secured, he walked purposefully over to Lord Stark. Once he was standing before the Warden of the North, he held out the cloak covered hands. "We'll need to eventually establish trade dealings with Dorne to make some of our projects come to fruition. Try offering them the hands of the man that brutally murdered Rhaenys Targaryen."

Stark looked less than pleased, but the logical side of his mind eventually won out and he nodded, taking the hands from Nox.

Turning his back on the Warden of the North, Nox made his way back to the center of the ring. Once he was standing over the dead bodies of Lorch and his men, he raised his voice and addressed the assembled crowd. "My name is Alim Nox. I am a Lord of the Sith and current resident and servant of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North. And as you can all clearly see, I am a sorcerer of no small talent. There is much that I can and will tolerate, but rape will never be among them. So, keep what you've seen here today in the forefront of your minds. Because if your dicks jump out of your pants and into an unwilling participant, then you had best pray to whatever gods you follow that you reach the safety of Castle Black before I reach you. Because I can assure you all, that I will not be this merciful again."

His piece said, Nox purposefully turned his back on the corpses and made his way towards where he knew the Northerners were planning on setting up their camp.