Hey everyone, I'm back, finally. Firstly, want I want to thank everyone who has followed, favorited and/or reviewed this story so far. Your support truly helps me get on with my writing, even when I have little to no free time to speak off. On that note, I do want to state that I unfortunately will probably only be updating once a month or so from here on out. Mostly, setting this guideline so I don't stress myself out too much. So please, be patient. If I happen to get a hit of inspiration, perhaps we can see two chapters a month, but for now just plan on the one a month. Also, I used to do this all the time in the past, but recently I haven't had the time. But I plan on paying much more attention to the reviews received, so feel free to ask questions or offer suggestions and I will try and respond in a timely manner.

And a huge shout out to my brainstorm partner/beta reader for this story, Tellemicus Sundance. Thank you for all your help on this and the quick turnaround time.

Lastly, standard disclaimer; I do not own Game of Thrones, A Song of Fire and Ice nor Star Wars.

Hope that you all enjoy!


Chapter 5

Following his friend, brother in all but blood, and King back to the main keep of Lordsport, Ned was internally preparing himself for the discussion that was about to transpire. He knew that Nox was going to be the main talking point for days, perhaps even months to come. And he doubted that such conversations with Robert would be pleasant, and it all stemmed around one aspect of Nox. And amusingly enough, it wasn't his magic that put Robert off of the man. Nor was it his brutal method of executions.

Without saying a word, Robert led Ned and Stannis through the small keep and into the solar that'd been provided for the King. With barely a word to Ser Selmy, Robert threw open the doors of the solar and marched in. The moment Ned and Stannis crossed over the threshold, the Kingsguard quickly shut the doors behind them, leaving Ned and Stannis alone with the more than slightly irate King.

"Alright, Ned," Robert growled, turning towards Ned. "What in all fucking seven hells was that?"

"A Trial by Combat, your grace," Ned answered back, keeping himself calm before Robert. He'd weathered his friend's rages often enough during their time under Jon Arryn, so he knew how to deal with his friend when he was in such a state. "A Trial that should've happened years ago after the Targaryen's fell."

Robert scoffed before turning on his heel and marching to a nearby pitcher. He didn't even bother to grab a cup as he started to drink heavily from the pitcher itself. "That was no fucking trial, Ned. You know it and I know it. It was a fucking execution. But that isn't what I want meant and you know it! What I want to know is why the fuck you have a Valyrian dragon-loving fucking sorcerer amongst your people!"

Holding himself upright, Ned kept himself composed. "He is not a Valyrian, your grace, despite his looks. He's told me much of his people, and they are unlike any civilization I have ever heard of. And despite his looks, there is no doubt in my mind that there is not a drop of Valyrian blood running through his veins."

"Is it not possible, Lord Stark, that he has merely sold you on a mummer's tale?" Lord Stannis asked, not with anger like his brother, but with cool indifference.

"Unlikely," Ned answered. "The amount of detail he's gone into far surpasses any mummer's tale that could be spun."

Growling, Robert threw himself into the chair in the center of the room. "Fine. If he isn't a fucking sister loving dragonspawn, then where the fuck is he from?"

At this, Ned just barely managed to hold in a wince. "Honestly, I do not know, your grace. The land and culture he described as his people are unlike anything I have ever heard of before. It is more than likely that he is from Sothoryos or perhaps even beyond the lands of Asshai. But wherever he hails from seems to matter not to him as he has no intent of ever returning."

Upending the rest of the pitcher, Robert let out a loud belch. "Because he can't return or because he doesn't want too?"

"The latter," Ned answered immediately before elaborating. "Before he left, he had a wife, for lack of better terms I suppose. She was killed by a rival of his within their leadership. After she died, he wanted nothing more to do with them. So, he left. And ended up in the North."

"A likely tale, Lord Stark," Stannis stated, doubt still in his voice. "But again, I must ask. How do you know that this is not a mummer of some kind?"

"Because there was no mistaking the pain in his voice when he spoke of her," Ned answered back immediately, meeting Stannis's challenging look with one of his own. "Her death may not be the only reason why he has decided he wishes not to return to his homeland. But it is one of the primary driving forces."

"Any chance that others from his homeland will come to our shores eventually?" Stannis followed up. "If there are more like him, then the might of the Seven Kingdoms might not be enough to hold them back."

"Truthfully, I do not know," Ned answered honestly. "But as we have not even heard of his people before, if they do mean to grace our shores, it might not be for a long time. Time which we can use to prepare to potentially face those like Nox."

"What in the seven hells do you mean by that, Ned?" Robert asked, a gleam of light entering his eyes. The same gleam that always appeared whenever a prospective fight was presented to him.

"I mean that we can learn from Nox. Learn to do what he can do." Ned elaborated further.

Leaning back, Robert scratched at his lengthening beard. "You think he'll go for it? Teaching others to do what the hell he can? Right now, he seems to be at an advantage over all of us. It would seem silly for him to give up such an advantage by risking teaching others how to use the same magic as he."

"He already has started," Ned answered, taking a breath to steady himself before continuing onwards. "But before I say more, I need an oath from you, your grace. And you as well, Lord Stannis. That what I say next will not leave us. I have a plan in place, but I want as few people to know about it as possible until the time is right."

Robert looked confused, but still nodded. "Alright, you got my oath, Stannis as well. Now talk. What in the seven hells is your plan?"

Breathing in and out, Ned took his time to answer. "Nox, has already offered to train certain individuals in the usage of his powers. But it is not as simple as you might think. Not everyone can learn how to use this power. They have to be born with the ability to use what Nox calls 'the Force' before he can teach them. And he has a stipulation that those who can train must start early, when they are still children. He says that it is because the mind of a child is easier to mold into being able to utilize his unique type of magic."

"And Nox has located said individuals?" Stannis asked, before his eyes narrowed. "And they are in Winterfell, are they not?"

"They are," Ned answered. "Nox has determined that both of my sons, my heir and my bastard, are capable of learning to use the same magic as he."

For a moment, Robert stared at him in silence as the weight of his words settled. But once they did, instead of asking questions, Robert merely threw his head back and laughed, a belly-rumbling, rafter-rattling laugh. "Hahahaha! That's fucking hilarious, Ned! The blood of the First Men certainly run strong in the Starks, don't they?! Ha! If only…If only my love was still with us. She would've given me a son that could learn this magic as well! A son I could be proud of…instead of the spoiled little shit I have now."

Not wanting to push into that topic, Ned pressed on. "When I return to Winterfell, I intend to grant Nox's request to take my bastard on as his 'apprentice', as he called it. Robb will attend lessons with Nox as well. But after listening to the outline Nox gave of the training required, I fear that Robb will be unable to have the time necessarily for full training."

"Why?" Stannis pressed, while Robert merely motioned for him to continue.

"From what Nox has told me, being a…Sith as he called himself, is a lifelong dedication. And not something for the faint of heart. While I have no doubt that Robb would be able to complete such training, there is a good possibility that the training may take the boys away from Winterfell for extended periods of time. And as my heir, Robb does not have that luxury when he must learn how to follow in my footsteps as the future Warden of the North."

"And what of your bastard son?" Stannis asked, his eyes narrowing. "What is to stop him from coveting his brother's position as Warden of the North?"

There was no accusation in Stannis's voice, rather his question seemed to be out of curiosity than genuine concern. "Because I am raising Robb and Jon as if they were trueborn brothers," Ned answered. "Jon loves his trueborn siblings, and I am encouraging such relations. And more importantly, even at a young age he understands his place as a bastard. I am confident that should it come to it, Jon will choose his family over Nox or someone else."

Throwing his head back, Robert let out another belly-rumbling laugh. "Haha! Fucking seven hells Ned! When did you get so devious? Having Nox train a potential weapon to use against himself or his people should they attack us! Ha! Hells, Ned, that's brilliant!"

'I was forced to become this deviant when I was forced to hide my sister's trueborn son and the rightful king of Westeros from your rage and Tywin Lannister's ambition,' Ned through as Robert rose to his feet.

"Alright, Ned, you've convinced me. I'll leave Nox in your hands and we'll keep quiet about your son and bastard for now. But, Ned, I want that fucker watched. I might like him…but he's far too fucking Valyrian looking for me to be able to trust fully. At the slightest hint of treachery, I want his head on a fucking pike."

"As you wish, your grace."


Walking into his tent with his brother Kevan and his loyal bannerman Gregor Clegane behind him, Tywin Lannister uttered not a single word as he walked towards the small chest at the back. Opening the lid, he pulled out a single bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. He wasn't like his son, Tyrion. He rarely indulged in wine simply because he could. But after what he'd just witnessed, a glass of wine was warranted.

"Give me the word, my Lord. And I will crush that bastard's head with my bare hands."

Tywin just barely managed to keep himself from scoffing. It would not due for the Head of House Lannister to scoff so openly in front of his bannermen, even when confronted with such stupidity. Clegane was an excellent killer, a monster, a rapid dog. One that had no problems with any order if it allowed him to kill. He was useful to keep around, primarily as a warning and an enforcer. But at the same time the lack of brain power made Tywin wonder if he was worth keeping around for the long term. After all, rapid dogs often turned on the hands that fed them.

"You will do no such thing," Tywin answered coolly, fixing Clegane with an even look. "In fact, you will leave this tent now and inform the men sworn to House Lannister that we will be acknowledging this sorcerer's demands during this campaign. Any man who rapes will be presented with two options. Take the Black or face the sorcerer. And before you get ahead of yourself, Clegane, don't. If you rape just for the chance to fight against the sorcerer, I will kill you myself. Understand? I lost one good man already today. I cannot afford to lose you as well. And if you think that you cannot control your urges, then tell me now and I will send you back to the Westerlands on the next ship that sails."

Clegane looked less than pleased by his ultimatum. His gaze one that would make any other man soil himself. But Tywin wasn't any other man. He knew Clegane and knew him well. He knew exactly how to handle the man. One had to be strong and have several contingencies in place just in case the mad dog decided to go off the leash.

"As you wish, my lord," Clegane growled, clearly unhappy with his second favorite pastime being taken from him before turning on his heel and storming out of the tent. No doubt to go and 'train' against a few Ironborn prisoners Tywin kept stowed away for just such an occasion.

Once they were alone, Tywin refilled his glass and then poured a second for his brother before taking his seat. Silently, his brother picked up the offered cup and sat down across from him. "You have words for me, Kevan. I would hear them."

Taking a drink, his brother visibly considered his words carefully before speaking. "Forgive me for saying so, brother, but this is unlike you. You are not one to let a slight like this slide without consequence."

Taking a slight slip, Tywin set his glass down and began to fetch out a quill and ink before looking for a piece of parchment. "Slighting House Lannister was not that man's intent." Tywin responded simply, already seeing what game the sorcerer was playing. "That man was merely looking to send a message. I do not know if he truly cares about rape as he so claims, or if he was just using it as an excuse, but he knew that he would be able to find someone committing rape of some kind within the town. After that, he set it up perfectly in order to legally and brutally kill them in a very public manner that would also allow him to utilize his…magic."

It was almost painful to say the last word. For the entirety of his life, he did not allow himself to believe in such superstitious nonsense. Magic was gone, dead with the last of the dragons. But now…now it had returned. And in a rather violent fashion at that.

Across from him, he could see his brother still trying to put the pieces together. He cared for his brother. He was a loyal man and an excellent battle commander. But he did not have Tywin's head for the Great Game. "I don't follow, brother."

"It wasn't about justice. It was about making a statement." Tywin explained. As much as he hated losing a man like Lorch, one with little morals that was easy to command, he had to applaud this Nox fellow's command of the game. "And his message is that he does not care about our rank or our gold or what we could possibly offer him. He has his own agenda. And if anyone gets in his way, he'll kill them."

Kevan leaned back, absorbing what Tywin had told him. "But what is his agenda?"

"I do not know." And that was the truth of it, and irked Tywin something fierce. He prided himself on knowing everything about his opponents, both on the battlefield and in the Great Game. And now, there was a new skilled player in the game that seemed to be was just as equally skilled on the battlefield. "But one thing is certain. We cannot allow such a man to simply rot away in the cold North. And we cannot allow him to remain under the control of the Starks. His talents would simply go to waste."

Kevan's brow perked up as understanding dawned in his eyes. "That is why you are not seeking repercussions against him for slaying Ser Lorch. You want him as a bannerman of House Lannister instead of House Stark."

"Of course," Tywin answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The man possesses magic. The very thing that helped to create the Valyrian Freehold, aside from dragons. Although stories tell that it was magic itself that first gave birth to the dragons. If such abilities were to come under the control of House Lannister, then our position as the premiere House of Westeros would be unquestioned."

The problem though was just how was he to go about such a task. Marriage was the simplest answer. Well, marriage and a title. Castamere was still empty. And despite it being in ruin, the land was still very viable to whoever could drain the ruins, a task he was sure would be mere child's play for the sorcerer. But even if he had a daughter of House Lannister to offer him, which he did not as those in the main branch were either far too young or near the end of their childbearing years, he didn't know if such an offer would be accepted. He could offer the man Castamere, and Stark could turn around and offer the man the abandoned Moat Cailin in return. No. He couldn't make his offer yet. Not until he knew that he could offer the man something that he would not turn down. Which meant that for now, he needed to gather information. He needed a set of eyes and ears in Winterfell, one that was loyal to House Lannister. And fast. But due to his presence here in the Iron Islands, he could not set up such a person. Which left him with one choice that was fast and easy to arrange, no matter how galling as it was.

"We have the advantage at the moment, in that neither the Queen of Thorns nor Doran Martell nor Jon Arryn know of the sorcerer's existence yet," he stated, finishing up the letter and dusting it before letting the ink dry while pulling out a stick of wax and his House seal. "We must act before they do. Should either gain an insight on how to gain the sorcerer's loyalty, then House Lannister will fall. We cannot let that happen."

Rolling up the letter, he heated the wax in a nearby candle, dripping the hot wax onto the edge of the letter before pressing his seal down upon the red wax. "There is a ship leaving before nightfall that is heading back to Lannisport. You will give this to a man you trust and give him the explicit instructions that he is to deliver that to Tyrion's hand alone."

"Tyrion?" Kevan questioned, surprise evident on his face.

"Yes," Tywin growled, hating having to rely on the little creature. "He may be the lowest of us, but he is still a Lannister. And he claims to have the knowledge to keep it that way. This will be his little test. Should he succeed by the time we return, then perhaps I will start giving him other tasks around the Rock other than managing the shit of the castle. But should he fail, I'll find a worse hole for him than the cisterns of the Rock to throw him into."

"As you wish, brother," Kevan nodded, taking the letter from him. "I know just the man to entrust with this."

"Good," Tywin nodded before waving his brother now. "Now go. I wish to think in peace."

"My lord," Kevan bowed back before making a hasty retreat from the tent, leaving Tywin to think in peace about the new piece that'd just been placed on the game board.


Sitting in the tent that'd been set up for him, Nox sat cross legged on the floor in a deep state of meditation as he stretched out his senses towards the western end of the island where the keep of Pyke, the stronghold of the Greyjoys, stood. He could sense thousands of souls rushing about the keep doing their best to prepare the defenses while they still had time to do so. But despite his deep state of mediation, he couldn't discern the Greyjoys amongst the mass gathering of individuals. There were some that had a slightly higher than normal presence in the Force, but none were at the level where they could be considered 'Force sensitive'.

The slightest of sensations at the corner of his senses brought him out of his trance as he rose just in time for a Stark guard to duck his head into his tent. "Forgive the intrusion, mi'lord." That was one thing that Nox had been more than pleased with. Ever since his 'duel' with the Lannister men, all the soldiers in the camp had been treating him as if he were a true Lord, even if he didn't technically hold the title in this land. "But your guest is here as you requested."

"Good," Nox nodded. "Show her in and then make yourself and the others around this tent scarce."

"Aye, mi'lord," the solider mumbled, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to leave the tent and see to it that his orders were carried out.

He didn't have to wait long for his 'guest' to arrive as the tent flap was still for but a second before being pulled aside again and letting her in. Through the Force he could tell that the woman was attractive, no doubt the reason why she'd been the target earlier in the day. But that beauty was now marred by a swelling of a fist size bruise on the side of her face. Despite that though, and despite what'd happened to her and her daughter, she held herself with a strength that said that she would not be broken. But under that strength there was something else entirely. A heavy weight in her soul. And a feeling of…reservation yet…acceptance. How curious.

"You asked for me, my lord?"

'And she has now given herself away.' Nox thought to himself as he turned and face the woman proper. "Yes, I did."

He could feel her nervousness, but regardless of how she felt, she kept herself firm. Admirable. "What do you require of me, my lord?"

Kicking open a folding stool, Nox arranged his robes around him and sat down. "I'm not one to beat around the bush, so I'll be blunt and honest. And wish for you to do the same. Now, let's start with your name, your daughter's name, and where you hail from."

The woman hesitated, but not for long. "My name is Bethany and my daughter's name is Hilda, my lord. And we hail from the island of Blacktyde. My family was…poor but they managed to arrange a marriage for me to my husband."

"Hmm, not bad. But still a lie." Nox remarked. "Your accent betrays you, as well as your hatred for the Iron Islands and the man that was your former husband. Your accent, no matter how faint, has betrayed you. You are not from the Iron Islands, nor from the North. If I had to guess, I would say the Riverlands as they are frequently raided by the Ironborn. And you are educated as well, it shows in the way you speak. Which means you are noble born. Not very high nobility or your absence would've been well known, possibly even enough to start this war earlier. A Knightly House sworn to a lesser House. And by your sudden spike of anger towards your family and your bout of nervousness, your family more than likely gave you away as some sort of tribute to prevent a raid on their lands. More than likely without informing you until you were already on the boat and on your way to become a fish or a saltwife. How am I doing so far?"

Bethany stood stock still. Her fear, anger and nerves warring within her tearing away at the wall she'd formed around herself. "I…I –"

"I thought that I said that we will not be beating around the bush with one another," Nox cut her off, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Given what happened today, I will let this slide and we will start again."

Her resolve returning, Bethany nodded. "You are right my Lord. About everything. I was born to small Knightly House sworn to House Frey near the border of the Neck. Years ago, during the reign of the Mad King, a small contingent of Ironborn came to my father's lands and delivered an ultimatum. Give them tribute or be raided. My father didn't have much, but he did have me, a second daughter. So, he gave me to them. By the time I came too, we were halfway to the Iron Islands. By the time we reached the islands…half the crew had had their way with me."

"The past is painful," Nox acknowledged. "But it is what helps shape us into what we are today. But I have not called you here to speak of the past, but rather the future. Your future, and that of your daughter's, to be precise."

The woman's nerves returned ten-fold as she began shifting her weight from foot to foot. "What of our future, my lord?"

Rolling his neck, he took a moment to let her anxiety build before speaking. "You cannot stay here on this island. You know that as well as I. If you did, you and your daughter would more than likely be taken by someone worse than your late husband. Nor do you wish to return to your home as they more than likely believe you to be dead, and even if you did return, they would force you to get rid of your daughter and then your father or brother would turn around and sell you off like a broodmare as nobility often does. You can make a go of it on your own in a new land of course. But with no money nor connections, you'd more than likely end up selling yourself on a street corner or begging just to get by until your true skills can be utilized. And as for I, I am not necessarily one for charity. Not unless it can benefit either myself or my long-term plans in some manner. So, what options do you think you have? Not only for your future, but for your daughter's future as well? And remember, I am not one to offer help unless I can be benefited as well."

With each word, he could feel Bethany sinking slowly into a melancholy state of being. But by the time he was done, despite being in a such state, she had resolve of iron as well. Her hands, shaky though they were, slowly rose to either of her shoulders and began pulling down on her dress, exposing herself to him.

"Stop," he said, his words freezing her in place as surely as if he'd cocooned her in the Force. "Your resolve is commendable, but I am not one to take an unwilling to my bed. Especially one that has had such a traumatic event such as rape happen to them. Perhaps in time such a thing between us could develop, but not today. Selling your body to me is not why I called you here. I'm far more interested in your particular skill set that you've used to keep yourself and your daughter safe on these islands."

Shame burned through the woman, as well as curiosity and a touch of anger at being rejected so as she scrambled to redress herself. "What do you mean, my lord?"

Pointing to a small table near the wall of his tent, Nox drew her attention to the two items upon it. A throwing axe and a familiar small book. "Your husband was, at best, a mediocre smith. Yet Lords from all over the Iron Islands came to him. Not necessarily for the axes, but rather for the delicate runic work that'd been etched onto the surface. Your work. Yours and your daughter's. And then the book: financial summaries, loan amounts, business transactions, all of it written in a delicate hand. Your hand. And most recently, a second set of hands just as delicate, but slower and more deliberate. Your daughter's hand. You're an artist and you've taught your daughter how to read and write. That is what I'm interested in now."

Rising from his stool, he slowly approached the woman. "Lord Stark has given me free reign to improve Winterfell in several different areas as I see fit, as long as such improvements benefit the North. The problem is, I'm only one man. And despite what some may think, I am not all powerful. But with your help, I believe I might be able to continue onwards with some of my more mundane objectives. Work for me, and I promise you safety in the North at Winterfell for not only yourself but your daughter as well. And you will not have to worry about some man deciding to sell you or your daughter off to some random lord or other just so they can benefit. So, those are your options. Return to your home. Go on the run. Or come north and build a new life for your family with my backing."

He didn't need to wait long for an answer as Bethany almost immediately nodded her agreement. A life in Winterfell with his backing and without of fear of either herself or her daughter being sold off again. The offer was far too good not to accept. "I accept your offer, Lord Nox. Tell me what you need of me, and I will do my best not to disappoint you."

"Splendid," Nox nodded, picking up the small journal from the table and giving it back to you. "I've outlined the plans I want you to help me with in here. You will spend the remainder of our time here on the Iron Islands familiarizing yourself with such plans and adding your own details to them. The moment we return to the North, I expect you to begin implementation. Is that agreeable?"

Taking the journal, Bethany immediately nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Good," Nox nodded before motioning her for towards the tent flap. "Oh, there is one more thing. Do you have any of your husband's clothes left?"


Watching the last of the Mormont men unload from the boat that'd brought them to the Iron Islands, Ned Stark quietly pondered what'd transpired over the past three days. Or, more specifically, he pondered just where Nox had disappeared to the very same night after he killed five of Tywin Lannister's men. The morning after he'd gone to confer with Nox as to the next potential step and was met with an empty tent. Nox had somehow managed to disappear during the night without leaving any note as to where he was going nor had he alerted any guards.

He'd been moments shy of heading to Tywin Lannister and demanding answers before the woman Nox had saved, Bethany, managed to get word to him that she spoke with Nox the night before and that she wished to speak with him. Thankfully, the woman had answers, although far fewer than Ned wanted. Nox had apparently talked to the woman the night before and had made her an offer to stay under his protection and to see her and her daughter back to Winterfell where they could begin a new life, free from the Ironborn.

While Nox offering such a thing without Ned's knowledge or approval did irk him more than slightly, he trusted Nox's judgment. He'd earned that much. But he would still have to talk to the sorcerer about not overstepping his authority in the future. Especially as Ned was about to allow Jon and Robb to begin taking lessons from the man. But besides informing him of the offer from Nox, the woman had little to no explanation about Nox's whereabouts. All she could tell him was that Nox asked for a change of her late husband's clothes, changed into said clothes, and then disappeared into the night with hardly a word nor glance back. It was utterly confusing and more than a little frustrating.

Robert had been just a hair's breadth away from picking up his war hammer and giving chase the moment Ned informed him of Nox's disappearance. He managed to calm his friend, if only momentarily, by telling him that it wasn't uncommon for Nox to disappear for days at time, which was a mild truth as Nox disappeared once or twice during his moon's stay at Winterfell, and that the most likely scenario was that the sorcerer was merely scouting the island. A tale that Ned hoped to the old gods was true. Robert, while interested in Nox for what he could do, was still uncertain about him due to his very Valyrian looks. Ned needed the man to prove himself a valuable asset to his liege despite his looks. And the sooner he did so, the sooner Ned would be able to breathe easier.

But now, now Nox was out of time. He'd been gone for three days and the last of the Northern forces had arrived, which meant that on the morrow they would march for the Pyke and to bring an end to the Greyjoy Rebellion once and for all. "My Lord, are you well?"

Nodding, Ned turned his back on the unloading ships and towards Jorah Mormont. While of a same height as Ned, Jorah lived up to emblem of his house with his stocky build and thick black hair that over most of his body that was visible.

"Aye, just a lot on my mind is all." Ned replied dismissively as he made to move back to the keep in Lordsport. "See to it that your men are set for the night, but don't allow them to become too comfortable. You and yours are the last of our forces to arrive, and I have no doubt that King Robert will be ordering a march first thing on the morrow."

"Aye, my lord." Jorah Mormont nodded, turning back to the disembarking Northmen. "Alright, lads, get your asses moving! Lord Stark wants camp before nightfall! But don't get too comfortable! We've got some krakens to kill in the morning!"

Marching through the town and back into the keep in Lordsport, Ned made his way into the great hall of the keep just in time to watch as the other Lords of note that'd answered Robert's call make their way in as well. Lord Tywin was the first to arrive, with his brother Kevan close on his heels. The Lord of the Westerlands gave him but a passing nod of acknowledgement before taking a seat at the table that'd been set up near the head where the King would be expected to sit. 'Of course, he would take the seat of note.' Ned thought as he took a seat, leaving room for Stannis to sit next to his brother as protocol dictated he was supposed to. 'He is father to the Queen though, so such a position is his right to take.'

Next to arrive was Stannis, with a familiar face behind him who looked severely uncomfortable with being there. 'Ser Davos Seaworth,' Ned recalled the former smuggler as Stannis took his position next to the king's seat while Ser Davos took a place in along the wall, away from the Lords. 'A good man, despite his past. A valuable asset to have during a naval campaign. Stannis was wise to keep him around.'

Next to walk in was Lord Mace Tyrell, with the true military power of the Reach in Lord Randyll Tarly who was right behind him. The two had not changed much since the last time Ned had seen them, Randyll on the field and Mace ready to accept the Reach's surrender at the end of the Rebellion. Lord Tyrell stopped in the entryway, took one look at the table and frowned heavily before taking a seat down from Kevan Lannister, several places away from the King's seat.

Right behind the two Reach lords was the Lord of Seagard, Lord Jason Mallister. Ned wasn't surprised in the least when he heard that the Lord of Seagard had come personally to deal with the Ironborn. Considering Seagard, along with Lannisport, were two of the first targets in the Greyjoy's initial assault of the mainland. After Lord Mallister, several other lesser Riverland lords made their way in before quickly moving to the side walls. Surprisingly, Lord Mallister was the only true Riverland lord of note to have answered Robert's call. Ned understood that Hoster was getting on in his years, but Edmure should've at least answered the call. He would have to send a raven to his Lady's family after returning to Winterfell to make sure all was well with his wife's family.

Finally, Robert made his appearance along with his Kingsguard Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Jamie Lannister, and Ser Arys Oakheart, prompting all the Lords in the hall to quickly rise to their feet. "Ah, sit the fuck down," Robert grumbled, making his way past the lords. "Save your bloody feet. We'll be marching in the morning and feeding the kraken's their own asses soon enough."

The jest earned a chuckle from the Lords present, although Ned could tell that many had to force it. Save for Lord Tywin and Lord Tarly, who both remained completely stoic as the King took his seat as Ser Selmy took his place behind him. "Alright," Robert bellowed, waving with his hand. "Let's get this shit on with. Ned, have the last of your men finally arrived?"

"They have, your grace," Ned nodded. "The Mormonts, along with the Glovers, Umbers, and some Karstarks have just finished unloading the last of their men and supplies from the ships and are currently setting camp."

"Good," Robert nodded, his eyes lightening and his manner shifting serious as it always did when matters of war were concerned. Say what one would about Robert as an individual, but in matters of warfare there were few that truly took the matter as seriously as him. "We march in the morning. Tywin. Your fucking men have been here longer than anyone else. What have your scouts told you of the fucking squids?"

"The Greyjoys have pulled their forces back behind the walls of the Pyke," Lord Tywin responded levelly. "It seems that the Greyjoys have decided to put their faith in the walls of the Pyke. And as such we will face little to no opposition on our march."

"Good," Robert nodded as his eyes roamed the table of nobles. "It's to be a siege then. Who here can tell me about the Pyke?"

Ned noticed out of the corner of his eye that Mace was about to rise, but Randyll Tarly beat his liege lord to the matter as he quickly rose to his feet. "The Redwyne fleet managed to scout the Pyke and its immediate lands and have reported back, your grace." Leaning over the table, Lord Tarly pointed at a portion of the walls of the Pyke facing south. "We lost nearly half of our scouts, but they report that the wall here is weak from more of the island falling into the sea. A few days or mayhap a week of bombardment with trebuchets and catapults will create a breach that we will be able to use to gain access to the castle. Once the walls fall, the krakens will have no choice but to surrender to our forces."

The lords around the room started mumbling to themselves, before silencing as Lord Stannis stood up and stared down at the map of the Pyke. "Taking the walls will only be the first step." Stannis shot back, almost glaring at the Reach Lords. Time, it appeared, had not given Lord Stannis the ability to forgive the Reach Lords for the siege of Storm's End during the Rebellion. "The Pyke itself is divided upon the mainland and four islands. We will have to take care with our advance through the walls and the gatehouse portion of the keep. Should they find a way to take out the bridges connecting the mainland to the other islands, it will take weeks to months to get the Greyjoys to surrender."

"Then we hit them hard and fast. Don't give them the option to retreat across the bridges," Lord Mallister growled. "The squids fight like shit on land anyway. It won't be difficult to break their ranks."

"Then that's exactly what we'll do," Robert bellowed, rising to his feet. "Prepare the men, we leave at dawn. In a week, the krakens will be dead, or part of the Seven Kingdoms once more."

"A good strategy, your grace. But unfortunately flawed in more ways than one."

The three Kingsguard drew their swords almost as one as they made to form a ring around Robert, while the rest of the Lords quickly shot to their feet, hands on their hilts and eyes scanning the room. Only Ned remained seated, his eyes traveling upwards towards the rafters. "Master Nox," he groaned, spotting the sorcerer perched upon one of the rafters eating away at an apple. "Did you really feel it necessary to announce yourself thusly?"

"Necessary?" Nox asked, finishing off the last of his apple and letting it drop down onto the table, splattering the core against the wood. "No. But insightful."

"Bloody insightful?" Robert bellowed, his face reddening. "How the fuck do you find this bloody insightful?"

Nox merely tilted his head before rolling back. With a flourish, the man flipped backwards through the air before landing onto the ground as gracefully as a cat with just as little sound. "Simple," the sorcerer shrugged, nodding towards the Kingsguard. "These three are supposed to be the best in the land and your personal protectors, no? Yet not one of them noticed my presence. Granted, if I don't want anyone to find me, they won't, but I wasn't necessarily trying to hide just now. You people need to look up more often."

The other lords started grumbling, but in the end, it was Stannis who brought them back to the topic at hand. "Master Nox, you said that our strategy is flawed. Perhaps then you can offer a better one? And as you do, perhaps you can explain why you felt it necessary to disappear and ignore the summons of your King for the past three days?"

Nox, either ignorant or simply ignoring Stannis's tone, merely shrugged. "I was scouting Pyke."

Once more, the Lords started mumbling, which ended only when Lord Lannister spoke. "You felt the need to scout the island? And what could you have learned in three days?"

"I didn't scout the island," Nox replied before waving at the map of the keep. "I scouted the Pyke Keep. The main gatehouse and the other islands that the keep is situated upon. I must say, your grace, your presence surely does have the Ironborn nearly shitting themselves out of fear. Hell, from the mumbling I heard, about a third of the inhabitants are ready to storm the other islands, capture the Greyjoys, and present them to you as a peace offering."

That quieted the other lords to the point where one could hear a mouse squeak.

"You mean to tell us," Lord Tywin began slowly and lowly. "That in three days you managed to not only cross the distance from here to the castle on foot, but you managed to infiltrated the keep, get a read on all of the facets and the moral, and return here unnoticed? Is that what you are saying, sorcerer?"

Nox merely shrugged. "Yeah, sounds about right. But honestly, I arrived back about half a day ago. I wanted to get a read on our forces as well. Much easier to do that when the men think you are one of them rather than a Lord that they have to be all prim and proper in front of all the time."

Again, Nox amazed Ned. And his resolve to have his sons learn from the sorcerer only strengthened. 'Cat will rant and rave, but his training will help Robb and Jon lead the North to a new and bright future.' "You say that our plan is flawed, Master Nox," Ned cut in, wanting to get back on topic. "How so?"

Walking up to the table, Nox pointed down at the map directly where the weakness in the walls of the Pyke had been discovered. 'For a blind man, his sight is impeccable.' "A weakness, Lord Tarly, is only truly a weakness if your enemy doesn't know it exists. If they do, then an apparent weakness can be turned into a trap. And that is exactly what the Ironborn have done. They've decommissioned two of their wrecked ships and used them to reinforce the wall at the weak point. They've also set up barrels of oil and four scorpions, all stationed around where the breach would potentially be created. You can breach the wall here, that is true, but the Ironborn are ready for you. And you'll lose a lot of men in the process. Not to mention, attacking from this point puts the troops unfortunately close to the coast."

"And why would that be an issue?" Lord Tyrell scoffed.

Looking down at the map, Ned thought he knew where Nox was going with this, but instead of interjecting, he let the man continue. 'He needs to prove himself to Robert, and this is a good way for him to do so.'

"Simple," Nox shrugged, gesturing towards the several islands that made up the Pyke. "The Ironborn have hidden ships between the islands that separate out the Pyke. Once our men are in place, they will more than likely conduct night raids by ferrying their men in behind us or using whatever they can on board their ships like ballista or scorpions or whatever else they can fit onto the decks of the ships."

"Impossible," Lord Tarly growled, rising to his feet. "No one can navigate between those islands. They're a mess of rocks and shallow waters. They would sink their ships in a matter of hours. And the Redwyne fleet have not reported spotting any Ironborn vessels around the Pyke."

"And that in and of itself convinces me more than anything that the Ironborn are there, hiding and waiting for us, Lord Tarly. Think of it, this is the heart of the Ironborn, the seat of their 'King'. Why would they purposefully leave it undefended from sea? They wouldn't." Nox counted, making a good point, enough so to even make the near legendary field commander hesitate. "Ser Davos, your former profession makes you the closest thing we have to an expert in this particular situation. Tell us, if the Ironborn were to hide ships around the Pyke, where would they do so?"

All eyes turned to the former smuggler, who suddenly looked very nervous at finding himself the center of attention. Only after receiving a nod from Lord Stannis did Ser Davos rise and make his way towards the map. The elder man looked over the map but once before pointing out several small outcroppings surrounding the Pyke. "I would place ships here, here and here…mi'lord, your grace. They'd have to use longboats to avoid bottoming out on the rocks…but they could do exactly as the Lord…umm, Master, sorcerer says."

"Tarly, Tyrell. Send the Redwyne ships around to the other side of the Pyke and have them scout for these longboats and them have them set anchor just offshore to where we're going to be camping. I'd rather not give the Ironborn the chance to fuck us in the ass when we're asleep at night." After the two Lords acknowledged the orders, the King turned his attention fully to Nox. "Alright sorcerer, you've proven Tarly and Tyrell were half asleep or partially drunk when making up this plan. So, what's your alternative?"

Ned winced at the insult, throwing a passing glace towards the two lords as he did so. Tyrell flushed red out of embarrassment, but Tarly, Tarly remained stoic save for the tightening of his fists. 'Damn it, Robert… Has seven years of Kingship taught you nothing of watching your fucking tongue? We're not boys in the Vale anymore.'

"I do," Nox nodded. "We feint. Make the Ironborn think we are going to do as they suspect but do something completely different."

Leaning over the table, Nox rearranged the figurines representing their army around the Pyke on the map, dividing their army up into three parts. "We will set up the siege engines like planned, only with only a quarter of our forces. Make the Ironborn believe we are still trying to breach the wall at the weak point. Half of our forces will arrange themselves before the main gate and the remainder of our forces will be here near the northern wall where defenses are the lightest. I can breach the wall, and with the forces with me we will storm into the castle. Once we do, the forces will clear the battlements and make for the main gate. We will open the main gate, allowing the main force to enter the first part of the Pyke."

The Lords of Westeros were silent as they thought over the plan. "Do you mean to say that you plan on breaching the strongest part of the Pyke's walls by yourself, with no siege equipment?" Lord Tywin asked disbelievingly, but more from curiosity than anything derogatory or dismissive as he previously would've done. "How? Wave your hand and make a magic door appear?"

"Slightly more complicated than that, but yes," Nox answered. "And if I'm wrong, our siege engines will still be in place and you can revert back to your original plan."

Seeing the disbelieving looks on the Lords' and King's faces, Ned rose to his feet. "My Lords, your grace. While I admit that Master Nox has only recently entered my service, I can vouch that he is a man of honor and a man of his word. If he says that he can create a breach to let our men in, then I believe him." Turning towards Nox, Ned prayed to the old gods that he was not making a mistake. "Master Nox, I will dedicate my forces to you during this assault. The men of the North shall be under your command during the battle."

Nox merely nodded, as if he expected Ned to do just this. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Lord Stark. Now, my lords, if you will excuse me, it has been a long time since I've bathed and I smell like a bantha's backside. It's getting to the point where I'm starting to offend myself. And as we will be on the march first thing in the morning, I don't know when the opportunity will present itself again. Your grace, my lords." And without waiting for a dismissal, Nox merely bowed lowly and marched out of the hall, no doubt much to the surprise of the guards outside who never even saw him enter.

"Well," Robert bellowed, rising to his feet, prompting everyone to follow suit. "You heard the pretty fucker. We go with his plan. Tarly, Tyrell send out the orders to the fleet. Everyone else, inform your men of the plan. We set off at first light… Now, someone get me a fucking whore. I need to feel a good cunt around my cock before we set out."


Striding forth between the lines of Northern soldiers waiting for the battle to start at the foot of the walls of the Pyke, Nox was hit with a wave of nostalgia. 'How long has it been since I've led men into battle like this?' he thought as a slight feeling of elation flowed through him. 'Not long. Yet still, I have missed this sensation. The fear. The lust for battle. The desire to destroy one's enemy. The unknown before a battle. It's so thick in the air, it's almost intoxicating.'

Walking to the front of the battle formation, Nox stationed himself between the towering figure of 'The Great Jon' and the only slightly smaller figure of the young bear Jorah Mormont who were both staring at the imposingly high wall of the Pyke that was a mere four hundred meters in front of them. Nox had to hand it to the people of this world. When they built a castle or a stronghold, they did it right. When one studied the keep with a critical eye, you could tell that at one point the separate parts of the keep had once made up a singular whole keep. But, according to what he'd read and heard, years of erosion of the island cliff face that the Pyke had been built upon had separated the keep into several smaller keeps that were situated on different islands and connected by rope bridges. First one had to get over or through the walls of the first keep on the mainland, and even once that was accomplished, you had to navigate through the different keeps that made up the Pyke and hope that the defenders didn't destroy the bridges that connected the keep together. It would be a tough fight for sure. But Nox had faced far tougher in his time.

"Well sorcerer, here we are," the 'Great' Jon mumbled, spitting on the ground. "Standing before the strongest part of the fucking gatehouse of the Pyke with no siege equipment, ladders, or even enough men to scale the fucking walls. So, what's your great plan, huh? Going to give us all wings with a wave of your hand and let us fly over the walls or some horse shit?"

Giving the larger man a smirk, Nox moved a few paces towards the keep before stopping and rolling his shoulders. He hadn't done what he was about too in some time. "When it starts, my Lords, I highly suggest that you and your men not approach any closer than you currently are until I'm finished."

The larger man huffed. "And why the fuck is that?"

"Because I cannot guarantee that I won't kill you by accident if you do," Nox responded emotionlessly as he tilted his head back and breathed deep through his mask. "Now shut up and witness the true power of the Force."

Memories flooded through Nox's mind as he opened himself to the Force. His mother being violated before him. The death of Ffon at his and Zash's hands. The death of Zash at his hands. The meeting of Ashara. Of their first time together. Of learning of her death. Every memory that invoked a powerful feeling within him flowed through his mind like a vid reel, and he was merely as spectator to the best and worst moments in his life. And with each memory that passed, his emotions deepened as his connection to the dark side, as well as parts of the light, grew stronger and stronger.

Around him, wind started to wisp as the nearby horses whimpered while the men began nervously shifting their weight from foot to foot. As their movements became more and more anxious, Nox felt the Force condensing around not only himself, but in the very earth and sky around him. He could feel the dark miasma of the Force, a physical manifestation of the dark side, forming around him as his feet left the ground while small arcs of electricity flowed around his body.

"By the gods!" he vaguely heard more than one man cry out over the rush of the Force in his ears. "What is he?"

Smiling beneath his mask, Nox fed greedily on the fear and wonder of the men behind him as he began hovering several feet of the ground. The arcs of electricity growing more frequent and increasing in their intensity connecting him to the ground briefly before disappearing. Raising his hands to the side, Nox began gathering the Force into the palms of his hands. The dark miasma and electricity bounding around his hands and arms as he brought them forward.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled deeper and deeper on the Force. Calling forth the one memory that invoked the greatest emotion of all. The last time he'd awoken in bed beside Ashara. Just before he felt himself reach his physical limit, Nox let out a cry and thrust his hands forward towards the walls of the Pyke.

The resulting wave of Force Lightning surprised even Nox in its intensity. The very earth became scorched and scarred as the bolt of Force Lightning flew from Nox's hands and impacted the walls of the Pyke. Connecting the two together. Turning his hands, palms out and hands back to back, Nox channeled the Force Lightning into the mortar of the wall, chipping away at the binding agent and forcing the lightning between the rocks that made the wall. Gritting his teeth in concentration, Nox slowly pulled his hands apart, separating the lightning into two separate beams that began eroding away at the wall, creating a growing opening.

After what felt like an eternity, Nox let go of his connection to the Force, dropping down to the ground heavily as he just barely managed to keep himself from falling flat on his face. Taking several deep breaths, Nox surveyed what he'd done. A stretch of ground nearly five meters thick and stretching from himself to the castle wall had been scorched to the point where the dirt had begun to crystalize from the heat. And the wall of Pyke was no longer complete. Where Nox's lightning had impacted, there was now little more than large pile of rubble that stretched nearly twenty meters across.

"Well, my Lords," Nox breathed, doing his best to keep himself steady and his voice strong. "I promised you and your King that I would create a breach in the wall, and I'm a man of my word. Now, are you lot going to attack or just stand here with your thumbs up your collective asses?"

"The sorcerer is right!" Jorah Mormont yelled, his sword leaving its sheath as he turned to face the assembled Northern host. "He's given us the chance to pay these Ironborn fuckers back for years of them raping and pillaging our lands! Let us show these fuckers what the North remembers! And that we will make them pay their own 'iron price' for all their sins! For the North!"

A cry of 'for the North' went up through the assembled men. Then, like a floodgate had been lifted, the men of the North charged headlong for the breach that Nox had created for them. Soon, it was only the Great Jon and Nox still standing, watching as the men of the North led by Jorah Mormont ran for the keep.

"Well, sorcerer, it appears you are a man of your word. And I'm not one who admits it easily, but I can swallow my pride today and admit that I was wrong about you." Lord Umber muttered as he stepped up beside him. "But you look like shit. Need me to carry your pretty ass into battle, or can you hold your own?"

Scoffing, Nox drew himself up to his full height and pulled out his lightsaber and held it loosely to his side. "Amusing. As if such a thing like this would be enough to slow me down. No, it's far more likely that by the end of this battle, I'll be the one having to carry your ugly ass out."

Lord Umber's smile was vicious as he drew his blade. "Ha! How about friendly competition, sorcerer? A barrel of good true Northern ale to the one who kills the most Ironborn fuckers!"

Activating his lightsaber, Nox smirked beneath his mask. "You're on, Lord Umber. And do try not to cry when you lose."


Sitting atop his horse alongside his King, Ned could do little more than stare dumbly at the wanton destruction that'd just descended upon the Pyke. 'I knew that Nox had been holding back before. But to think that he has had this kind of power hidden under the surface all this time. By the old gods…Just how powerful is Nox? Just how powerful will he make anyone who follows him? I know I said that I was going to allow Jon to become his apprentice… but is such a thing even wise now? If Jon becomes as powerful as Nox and learns of his birthright, his true birthright…Will he want to take the throne? And if he does, will anyone be able to stop him from doing so?'

"Form up! Shields in front! Archers behind! Steady march towards the gate! Forward!" Lord Tywin's thunderous commands brought Ned out of his stupor just in time to watch as the Lord of the Westerlands drew his sword and kicked his heels to his horse's flanks, urging the beast forward.

Ned was about to join the man, but Robert's outstretched hand stopped Ned in his tracks. "Ha, fucking hells, Ned! That sorcerer of yours is something else!" Robert laughed. "If only we had him during the fall of the dragons, the war would've been over a lot sooner!"

"If only," Ned agreed absentmindedly, looking out over the sea of Northmen approaching the breach, his eyes searching for one soul in particular.

He wasn't very difficult to find. His blood-red glowing sword standing out like a bright torch in the middle of the night amongst his men. Keeping his eyes on Nox, Ned tracked his movements as he ran at his almost impossible speed towards the walls, passing by his men as if they were standing still. And just as Ned didn't think Nox could surprise him anymore, the man leapt from the ground to the top of the walls of the Pyke without breaking his stride.

"Haha! Look at those Ironborn cunts!" Robert laughed as the two watched the glowing red blade steadily move across the battlements towards the main gate. "If only the fucker didn't look so Valyrian, I'd be tempted to steal him from you, Ned. But I can't…I can't look at the fucker without picturing the mad dragon fuck who ruined my love."

Again, Ned had to bite his tongue. This time almost to the point where it bled. 'How can you truly love someone you met once and only spoke with a handful of times? Did you truly love her Robert, or merely the idea of her? And if it was the idea of her, what part did you love? The potential challenge she would bring in trying to tame her? Or would you have let her be who she is?'

Hearing the King's hammer being raised, an action that was mimicked by the Kingsguard stationed just behind the two of them, Ned left thoughts of his sister behind as he brought himself back to the battle at hand. "Come on, Ned." Robert laughed, kicking his horse forward. "We can't let that sorcerer of yours have all the fucking fun! Let's go kill some Ironborn!"


Cutting his way across the battlements, Nox found himself becoming bored with the whole battle quickly. This wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter. Even more so than the brief skirmish that'd been held at Barrowton. At least there the men had some morale and were willing to fight. Here, the defenders on the castle walls were damn near pissing themselves out of fear. Some of them couldn't even hold their weapons or shields steady before Nox cut them down like a farmer scything through wheat.

'Unbelievably pathetic,' Nox thought as he opened the back of an Ironborn that'd decided running was preferable to standing his ground. 'I had such high hopes upon reading up on these people that at least one of them would be able to at least provide me with some sort of challenge. But so far, they've been nothing but a disappointment.'

Walking up to one of the towers along the wall, Nox sent a burst of Force energy into the wooden door, blasting the door and the surrounding frame inwards and leaving them little more than splinters in the wind.

Stepping through the destroyed door, Nox immediately stopped and leaned back, just barely avoiding the axe that'd been aimed for his head. Swinging his lightsaber up, Nox bisected his would-be attacker vertically and then sidestepped to avoid his falling corpse. Swinging his lightsaber around himself slowly, as the dozen defenders worked to regain their footing. "Now then, gentlemen, why don't you simply make this easy on yourselves and tell me what I want to know, and I'll be on my way. Where are the Greyjoys?"

"Fuck you, greenlander!" one of the men shouted before rushing at Nox with a throwing axe in hand.

"Pathetic," Nox calmly stated as he sidestepped the charging man and with one swing cut clean through the man's leather and chainmail armor before readying himself as the rest of the Ironborn regained their feet.

One by one the defenders of Castle Pyke charged at him, and one by one they fell before they could even come close to reaching him. With the span of a few seconds, Nox stood alone within the tower, with only two surviving Pyke defenders left alive. The elder was clutching at the stump of an arm that he had left, courtesy to Nox. And the younger, obviously related to the man, was clinging to the elder in desperation and fear.

Deactivating his lightsaber, Nox kicked up a nearby stool and sat down across from the two. "Now, there are two ways things can go from here." He explained calmly to the two near trembling men. "First, I kill you two slowly and painfully and then walk out of here and tear apart the Pyke brick by brick until I find the Greyjoys and bring them to heel. Or two, you tell me where they are holding up, and this all ends much sooner and with a lot less death and destruction. You have thirty seconds to decide."

"Fuck you, greenlander!" the elder near shouted, before groaning as the pain in his severed limb spiked, forcing him back down. "We tell you, and our liege lords will find out and they'll make examples of us and our families!"

"Possibly, or you suffer now," Nox replied disinterestedly. "But I can understand wanting to protect your families. So, tell me what I want to know, and I can assure you that the Greyjoys will know nothing of your duplicity. Fifteen seconds."

"They're in the Great Keep just across the stone bridge!" the younger man all but shouted, drawing a sharp look from the elder.

"Thank you," Nox nodded, rising to his feet. "Now, to keep my end of the bargain."

Jerking his right hand, Nox quickly snapped the two men's necks with the Force. 'Never leave an enemy behind to stab you in the back.' Nox thought as he stared down at the corpses. 'A lesson all Sith learn at a very early stage.'

Hearing war cries and the thunder of thousands of footsteps, Nox tilted his head to the side as he reached out with his senses. 'It appears that the King's vanguard has wasted little time in beginning their approach.' Nox thought as he felt the unmistakable presences of the King, Stark, and Lannister all slowly approaching the castle main gate with most of their forces before them. 'Well, I suppose I should hold up my promise and open the door for them before continuing on to find the Greyjoys.'

Walking out of the tower and back onto the ramparts, Nox took a moment to cloak himself in the force before jumping off the ramparts and onto a nearby roof before anyone could notice his presence. The cloak didn't make him invisible like a true stealth field generator. But it did make it so anyone that gave him a passing glance would simply dismiss his presence immediately. Not a good trick for deceiving those who were force sensitive. But in a city battle like this with thousands of non-force sensitives, it might as well have been one. Once he was on the roof, it was a simple matter of jumping from one roof to the next as he made his way across the condensed buildings towards the main gate. Once he was in line with the gate, he took a moment to scrutinize it. 'Reinforced steel. Layered with thick treated wood. And two dozen defenders arranged in a half-moon formation just within, ready to fight back against the first ones to breach the gate. A fine gate for this era to be sure and a decent plan. But in the end, useless against the Force.'

Reaching out with the Force, he grabbed hold of the old sturdy gate around the edges. The defenders that were standing ready all started yelling as the steel gate groaned as the metal bent inwards seemingly without cause. The groaning stopped as the gate reached its structural limits. Then all hell broke loose as the gate's wooden beams and steel gave way, showering the defenders with a hail of wooden splinters and broken steel pieces.

'That should be enough for now.' Nox through, watching in mild amusement as the defenders began yelling over one another as they tried to form some semblance of defense. 'Don't want to take all the glory for myself. And besides, I still have some krakens to hunt down.'

Turning his back on the now opened gate, Nox quickly and quietly made his away across the roof tops that composed the buildings within the gatehouse portion of the Pyke. Once he reached the cliff edge that separated the mainland portion of the Pyke from the Great Keep, Nox took a moment to kneel and observe his surroundings. The only way to access the Great Keep of the Pyke was by a single large stone bridge that crossed from the mainland to the keep. However, that bridge was now littered with makeshift barricades and well over a hundred defenders, all of whom were frantically trying to reinforce their defenses as defenders from eh main gate came filtering to the bridge and began to spread word of the gatehouse's fall.

'Well, could go for the brute force approach,' Nox thought as quickly assessed the fighters beneath him. 'But that would just be a waste of time. Instead, let's go for a more…unconventional approach. And seeing as how all of their attention is focus solely in front of them, none of them are looking up. All the better for me.'

Backing away from the edge of the house he was standing on, Nox carefully considered the Great Keep before him. Finding a spot that he deemed suitable, Nox backtracked to the opposite end of the house until his heel was on the edge. 'If nothing else, this will be interesting.'

Running forward as fast as he could, Nox focused the Force into his legs as he approached the opposite end of the house. Right as he reached the edge, he pushed off with the force and flew into the air. None of the defenders on the bridge paid him any heed as they were more worried about what was in front of them instead of what could possibly be above them. As he quickly approached the Great Keep of the Pyke, he curled himself into a tight ball and rolled himself forward just before he crashed through a closed wooden window shutter.

The sound of a woman screaming and frantic scrambling around was the first thing to register in his mind as he rolled across the floor of the room before managing to stop himself before he collided with the wall of the room. "Damn it," he muttered, slowly rising to his feet and rolling his shoulder while using the Force to assess himself. "That hurt like hell. Right shoulder is dislocated. Cracked…one, two…three ribs. And a fractured radius in my right forearm. Lovely."

Turning his attention from himself to the other occupants in the room, Nox couldn't help but scoff and shake his head as he took in the two others that were using the room he'd just crashed into. Both of whom where frantically trying to redress. "Really? We're in the middle of a siege, and you two decide that now would be the perfect time to fuck? Force, the men in this land really do think with their cocks instead of their brains, don't they?"

The woman, a simple serving girl he would guess, had managed to cover herself mostly before trying to make herself as small as possible in the far corner of the room away from him. The man however, after lacing up his pants, had picked up a throwing axe and was now advancing on Nox. "I don't know who fuck you are, Greenlander, nor how you got here, but I'm gonna shove this fuckin axe so far up your arse that-"

Not in any mood to hear such blustering, Nox simply lifted the man off the ground with the Force and slammed him into the wall directly in front of Nox. "I'm in no mood to listen to your crude language at the moment," Nox growled as the man started clutching at his throat as Nox began choking the life out of him. "And unfortunately for you, I have need of something you possess. So, your death won't be quick nor painless."

The air around Nox's left hand condensed, forming a dark miasma of Force energy that shot out like spears and impaled the man before him. The Ironborn had a moment of realization of something going wrong before he screamed, an ear-piercing scream that Nox quickly silence by filling his mouth with a ball of Force energy. "Quiet." Nox grumbled as he began to pull the man's life essence out of his body and into his own. "This takes a great deal of concentration."

Nox could feel himself becoming revitalized as he absorbed the man's essence. His right arm twitched as his dislocated shoulder went back in placed while simultaneously his forearm cracked as the bone righted itself and healed over. Once his wounds were healed over, he released the no longer struggling man and watched dispassionately as he collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

"I hate doing that," Nox mumbled to himself as he checked himself over, noting how two of his three ribs were still not completely healed. While some dark lords reveled in stealing the life force of others, to Nox the technique always left a bad taste in his mouth, which was why he didn't bother to master it. Which was also why he usually ended up killing his victims when he used it.

Feeling a slight sensation from the Force registering a threat, Nox didn't even bother to turn around. "That would be a very poor decision for your health, my dear," he said, his words stopping the servant girl that'd been trying to sneak up behind him dead in her tracks. "Now, drop the knife, go back to your corner, and I'll let you live."

The knife that'd been in the girl's hand clattered to the floor as the serving girl scurried quickly back to the corner she'd been hiding in. "Good girl," Nox praised the young woman as he made his way towards the door, stopping as he reached out and grabbed the latch to open it. "I have no doubt that you will go and raise the alarm about my presence here. It's your duty to do so, so I will not be grudge you that. However, you will count in your head to ten a total of twenty times before you do so to give me a head start. Do so, and you will live to see tomorrow. Do not, and I will hunt you down when this is over and kill you, your parents, your siblings, and even your family pets if you have them. Understand?"

The young girl was practically hyperventilating as she nodded frantically. "Yes mi'lord."

"Good," Nox nodded, opening the door and stepping out before giving her a wave goodbye. "When you leave, tell the other servants to stay out of my way if they wish to live to tomorrow."

After leaving the room, Nox began wandering the mostly deserted corridors of the Great Hall of Castle Pyke while reaching out with his senses. 'This keep is mostly deserted save for the serving staff and a few defenders that are setting up choke points within the Keep. But there seems to be a decent number of men congregating in a large space just up ahead. There is no other clustering of men of that size anywhere, so if Balon is anywhere in the Keep, it has to be there.'

Reaching the uppermost floor of the Keep, Nox found himself before a set of doors nearly twice as tall as himself that were slightly ajar and no one guarding them. Hearing voices coming from within, Nox leaned against the wall and listened to what was going on in the room beyond.

"-telling you, uncles! It was the Storm God himself! He threw lightning from his hands and destroyed the northern wall of the Gate Keep!" A young man was shouting desperately between desperate gasps of air.

"And so, instead of holding your position on the wall, you turned tail and fled back here like a craven Greenlander. How pathetic, nephew," a second, slightly older voice said. "Perhaps we should save the Greenlanders the trouble and send you to the Drowned God now. We can simply tell your dear father that you fell in defense of the wall. A much better tale then telling him the 'heir' to the Iron Islands ran with his tail between his legs from battle."

"Enough, Euron," a third, harsher voice cut in, ending the tirade of the newly named Euron. "Maron did right in retreating back so that we can have time to prepare against this…supposed sorcerer."

"There's nothing 'supposed' about this sorcerer, Uncle Victarion! I saw what he did with my own two fucking eyes! We need to get father and get on the ships and get out of here before he gets to us!" the young man, Maron, shouted desperately.

"So, your plan is to simply leave the Iron Islands to King Robert," a fourth, slightly more cultured voice chimed in. "You would abandon your people to his wrath just to save your own skin? If that is your plan, then tell me why my men and I should not simply kill you now and present your corpse to Robert as a peace offering?"

Deciding he'd heard enough and that he wanted to have a little fun, Nox knocked on the door with enough force to open the heavy door, revealing himself to the occupants on the other side. "Oh, excuse me," Nox muttered, looking around the room. 'Hmmm, Maron, Victarion, Euron, the noble cultured voice one and a dozen men at arms. This might possibly prove to be a bit entertaining.' "I'm looking for a pathetic cowardly weasel named Balon Greyjoy. I've been tasked him bringing him to King Robert alive…or at least partially alive that is. If you gentlemen could kindly point me in his direction, I'll leave you to your bickering."

It was almost comical to watch as the dozen men at arms tried their best to form a human shield between Nox and the Lords while the Lords themselves did their best not to act surprised. "So," the one he identified as Euron, drawled while stepping forward. "You must be this 'sorcerer' that turned my beloved nephew into a coward. You've got balls, I'll admit that. But apparently all that power has rotted your mind. That's the only reason as to why you are here, alone. In the heart of our power."

The moment Nox was able to get a good read on the man, he immediately put this Euron Greyjoy on his list of others keep an eye on. His comments were crass, and his manner was that of a prankster. But Nox could see beyond those facades to the keen mind beneath. A mind that was far more open than others he'd met. Yes, he would have to keep a close eye on this man. Provided he lived the day that was.

"Who can say for sure," Nox shrugged before pointing towards a table near the side windows that held several dozen pitchers and glasses. "Mind if sate my thirst? Slaughtering all of your men on my way here has made me quite parched."

Nearly all the Ironborn shifted their weight forward to charge at his comment, but Euron showed the respect and command he held amongst his brethren as he stopped them all with a simply outstretched hand. "Of course, I'm not one to deny a dead man his last request."

Walking over to the table, Nox took his time in examining each pitcher for poison or any other nefarious chemicals before picking up a pitcher of red wine and pouring himself a glass. After his failure to spot the poison cup offered to him by Lord Paladius on Nar Shaddaa, Nox had made a point to learn how to detect contaminants in drinks to prevent himself from being taken unaware like that again.

Uncoupling his mask, he held it loosely off to the side as he took a long drink. "This isn't bad," he remarked. "Would this be Arbor gold by chance? I'll have to have a case delivered if it is."

All the Ironborn were staring at him in stunned silence as his face was revealed to all. Euron was the first to overcome his surprise. The reaver threw his head back and laughed a full belly laugh. "Hahaha! This is too fucking much! A blind man! A fucking blind man made my beloved nephew run like a fucking coward. This is too funny."

Finishing off the cup, he set it back down on the table and turned so he was facing Euron and the nobles. With his supposed handicap now exposed, he wasn't surprised as Euron and the cultured noble to begin directing the other Ironborn with hand signals to quietly surround him. 'Not as dumb as I thought. This is proving more and more promising with each passing minute.' "Blind I may be, Euron Greyjoy, but I still see better than most. Just in a different manner is all. And I'm not dead yet, so why do you assume having a drink was a 'last request', as you call it? Your nephew saw me destroy the strongest part of your defenses and I cut my way through your men to get here. So, knowing that, what chance do you think you and your men have? Even if you are the supposed 'best' the Iron Islands have to offer?"

He could practically feel the cockiness radiating off of Euron as he drew himself up to his full height. "I've sailed across most of the known world, blind man, all the way to Qarth and back. I've met and talked with the warlocks of Qarth and I've seen a shadow priestess perform rituals while other red priestess use their power to discern the future from the flames. And while the power is unquestionable, it all comes with a similar cost. It's exhausting. The Warlocks would sleep for a day after performing a ritual. And the shadowbinder I watched had to be half carried away after she was finished with her task. And you, you destroyed a wall. Fought through dozens, maybe hundreds of our men and made your way here. I'd be surprised if you even had enough power left in you to defeat one of us, let alone two dozen."

"Sixteen," Nox corrected. "There are sixteen of you. Yourself, Maron, Victarion, another noble and a dozen men at arms, totaling sixteen. Not two dozen. I'm blind, not inept."

Euron recovered quickly. "Apparently so. I like you, sorcerer. So, I'll make you a deal. I let you live, and you teach me how to throw lightning from my hands like my nephew claims you can."

Reaffixing his mask, Nox shook his head. "And you still think that you are in control. Foolishly naïve." The men now had him fully surrounded, four of whom had crossbows aimed at his back waiting for Euron's signal to end his life. "While what you said about mystical powers exhausting those who use them is technically correct, your reasoning is flawed. Because whoever said that I use the same type of power as these warlocks and shadowbinders?"

"Kill the bastard!" the young Greyjoy, Maron, shouted, his sword clearing its sheath. "A new galley and captaincy to the one who ends this fucker's life!"

"Foolish," Nox growled, lifting his left hand.

In response, the four men behind him with crossbows all rose into the air, clutching their throats as Nox cut off their air with the Force. Clenching his fist and twisting it, he broke all four of their necks simultaneously while using the Force to draw his lightsaber into his right hand and activating it before their bodies could hit the floor. "Now, who wants to die next?"

The sudden death of four of their comrades halted the Ironborn, but only for a second as Victarion gave off a vicious war cry and charged at him, his two-headed axe held high and ready to cut him down.

"You're full of openings." Nox commented quietly, using the Force to carry his voice so that all of the men could hear him despite his tone.

Sliding his left foot forward, Nox brought his lightsaber down on an angle, cutting through Victarion's right arm before following the attack up with a swift kick with his right foot into Victarion's chest. Victarion's chest armor folded like cheap metal beneath the force of the impact, the impressively sized Greyjoy was sent flat onto his back. Winded, armless and weaponless.

"You're all full of openings." Nox remarked further as the rest of the Ironborn charged at him.

Moving in a blur of motion, Nox cut down one attack after another, exploiting every opening he could find in the men's armor and form. One foolish idiot got it in his mind to try climb atop a table and make a jump at him, but he didn't even get the chance to start his descent before Nox ended his pathetic life with a bout of Force lightning from his left hand. Within seconds, the Ironborn number had been reduced to half. Soon after there were only four left standing: Euron, Maron, the noble and one man at arms.

Euron was skilled, there was no doubt about that. But his movements had been honed to fight on the rocking of a ship, not on land, and it showed as the man was incredibly off balance as he unconsciously tried to constantly correct himself while swinging wildly at Nox. "You're good," Nox remarked as he dodged the wild attacks. Eventually, Euron overextended and Nox was able to step within Euron's reach, brining his knee up into the pirate's gut and doubling the man over. "But not good enough."

Raising his lightsaber, he brought the blade down intent to cleave through the man's head. But at the last moment he threw himself back as he felt a tremor in the Force. The bolt of a crossbow passed through the air where he'd been not a moment before. While he managed to avoid the bolt, his movements redirected his lightsaber, so instead of cutting through Euron's head, his lightsaber merely grazed across his face and over his left eye, leaving Euron to scream in agony as he clutched at the burning wound.

"Die, sorcerer!"

Using the Force to support himself, Nox managed to spin in a tight circle despite being bent backwards to the point of being nearly parallel to the floor. Circling around his opponent, Nox brought slashed at Ironborn's back, cutting deep and making the man collapse face first onto the cold stone floor. "Prince Maron!"

Righting himself, Nox brought his lightsaber back around ready to end the cultured noble, only for something unexpected to happen. Instead of having his lightsaber cut through the metal of the man's sword, the two blades…locked upon meeting one another. The fact that his lightsaber had been blocked completely floored Nox as a thousand and one questions immediately raced through his mind. It was only because of a warning from the Force that he was able to avoid the follow up attack from the noble, but even then, only just as the man's blade left a slight scratch across the surface of his chest plate.

"Get the prince and the injured out of here!" the cultured noble yelled over his shoulder to whoever was still able to move while he stood before Nox, his sword held in a mid-guard and, surprisingly, unblemished. "I'll deal with the sorcerer cunt!"

Tracing a finger along the scratch on his chest, Nox did nothing to stop the man at arms and Victarion Greyjoy as they helped Maron and Euron Greyjoy to their feet and carried them out of the hall. 'Interesting,' he thought, focusing in on the blade in the noble's hand. 'There are very few substances that can stand against a lightsaber, beskar being the most well known and most sought after. But even then, it will yield after prolonged contact. But that sword… That sword is completely unblemished after locking blades with a lightsaber. Most interesting.'

"Tell me, is that Valyrian steel by chance?"

The noble hesitated. "And what if it is?"

"Just curious," Nox remarked. "I've only seen one example of Valyrian Steel since coming to these lands and that is the Stark family sword, Ice. And, as remarkable as the weapon is, I couldn't exactly ask my host to let me experiment on a basically priceless family heirloom. But now, here you are with a Valyrian sword. So, let's make a deal. You hand it over, and I let you live. Refuse, and I take the sword from your corpse."

"Like hells you will!" The noble shouted, taking up an absurd stance, but one that the noble no doubt found 'heroic'. "I am Lord Dunstam Drumm, the Bone Hand! The Captain of the Thunderer and Lord of Old Wyk of the Iron Islands! I've been killing men twice your age and skill since before your father squirted you into your whore of a mother's cunt! And I will be damned to the depths of the Drowned God before I see my family's sword in the hands of a Greenlander cun-"

To Lord Dunstan's eyes, Nox must've seem to have moved from his several paces away to right by his side in the blink of an eye. In truth, Nox had simply used the Force to subtly make the man believe that Nox was still standing in place when in truth, he'd been approaching the man throughout his tirade. The hissing of his lightsaber cut through the sudden silence as Nox activated his weapon while it was pressed firmly against the man's side. The lightsaber easily cut through the Lord's body, sticking out the opposite side from where Nox was standing.

"A lightsaber doesn't truthfully cut in the conventional sense. The blade in fact burns through whatever it touches. I can only imagine the agony you must be feeling at this moment, forced to stay standing as my lightsaber slowly burns you from the inside." Nox's voice was completely devoid of emotion as he held his position, lightsaber piercing through the Ironborn Lord and using the Force to keep him in place. "Normally, I would relish the opportunity to fight one as skilled as you. Especially as we were on equal footing with you having a Valyrian sword. And while I would've still killed you in the end, I would've made your death quick. But you made a fatal flaw. And that was insulting my mother. A woman who was tortured and brutalized before my very eyes simply because I was born with the Force. And now, not only will you die a slow agonizing death, but I'm going to take your sword and melt it down and experiment on it to my heart's content."

Lord Drumm's eyes bulged as he tried to fight a quickly losing battle against the pain coursing through his body. "Don't talk." Nox growled, twisting the blade and ripping it out of the man, "just die."

Sidestepping, Nox let the Ironborn Lord fall face first to the ground, dead. Deactivating his lightsaber, Nox used the Force to summon the Valyrian sword, Red Rain, along with its sheath and the belt the Lord used to hold the sheath to his waist. It took him a minute, but Nox managed to configure it so that the belt crossed his chest from his shoulder to his hip, leaving the pummel of the sword over his right shoulder.

Reaching out with his senses, he quickly found the three retreating Greyjoys and their one surviving man at arms. Now that he had seen them, fought against them, he could easily pick up their presences through the Force and track them. They were moving as fast as they could out of the keep and making their way across a stone bridge to the next keep on the island chain.

"Run, little mice," Nox smirked beneath his mask as he set off on a leisurely pace, letting the Greyjoys run freely from him. "Run back to your brother and 'King'. It'll make finding him all the easier once you lead me directly to him."