The White Wolf of Westeros

by DrakeCross

The Wild Hunt is defeated and Ciri steps beyond to face the source of the White Frost. However something goes wrong and Geralt risks himself as he follows her, ending up in the land of Westeros. Dealing with new intrigue and politics, he will have to decide who he can trust while trying to save his adopted daughter...along with the lives of both worlds!

48. S2-E24: Epilogue Part 2: End of an Age

Chapter 47 Epilogue Part 2: …The End of an Age

Forward: Editing credit goes to Rainsfere as usual.

…

Justice Served

Early Morning - The Next Day – Hangman's Tree South East of Fairmarket – Geralt

Geralt held back a slight yawn while riding Roach, the Witcher at the lead of the small caravan heading to where the locals kept their hangman's tree. He had lost count of how many Velan had back on his world, considering the locals and Nilfgaard strung up anyone for the slightest offense. Yet in this case this was a just sentencing. His gaze drifted to his companions, all still groggy from the celebration over their victory. With the people of Fairmarket being gracious hosts, it was hard for some like Thoros and Smalljon to not overdo it with the drinking.

Following behind them was one of the prisoner wagons that the mercenaries had brought, now being used to carry Vargo Hoat and other leading members of the Brave Companions to their execution. Surrounding them on foot were a mix of Northern soldiers and militia, all keeping a sharp eye on the sellswords if they tried any desperate attempts. The normally ruthless mercenaries seemed quite distant at the moment, mainly because Hoat was in quite the strange daze.

Admittedly, Geralt had pressed the power of Axii a bit hard to get the information he wanted. By the time he had finished, the man had been left in a babbling state. It seemed over night the man had aged a few more years, his gruff face more slack along more grays hinting his goatee and hair. Some of his men had tried talking quietly with him, but all they got was low muttering or a tired glare. It was obvious the man was mentally and physical drained.

Past the prisoner wagon was Marcus and his unique band of companions along with a notable among of Fairmarket citizens. Many were eager to see the mercenaries hang, having personally lost friends and family to their pillaging in the recent months or in yesterday's battle. Even a notable amount of the injured were led along, determined to see this to the very end.

Despite how smoothly the partnership with Fairmarket was going, Geralt did have a gut feeling there was more to this group. It was mainly from Marcus and his unique friends. There was clearly a story behind how such a colorful group could be banded together. Then again, the same could be said for him right now or even further back with the party he had formed during his first search for Ciri. So far, whatever prying from the locals claimed that Marcus was an honest member of the community with his friends having come and gone over the years on their own business.

"You know Geralt…I can't say I've ever been to a hanging."

The sudden remark from Theon made the Witcher snap out of his thoughts, looking to the Ironborn curiously. "Not sure why that matters. You've already seen an execution considering Lord Eddard and the runaway ranger."

"True, but there's obviously a big difference between a noose and a sword to the neck." Theon compared.

"Well that is the point." Smalljon spoke up. "Beheading saved for a highborn or certain military roles. Considering the amount of Night's Watch deserters, my father has had to play judge and executioner plenty of times."

Thoros grunted slightly. "In Essos, the Red Faith prefers to put such scum on the pyre. The texts say that the pain of the flames purify even the foulest souls, remade into a clean slate in the life beyond."

"Ugh…and I thought strangling to death was painful enough." Graffin muttered in a hint of disgust.

"Every culture has its own way dealing such punishment. Whatever the case, we're here." Dacey would gesture forward as the tree line around the road thinned, revealing an intersection with a towering oak tree by it. The broad branches were currently bare since the war made it tricky to hang up any serious criminals.

As everyone began to crowd around the intersection, Marcus would approach Geralt while the prisoner wagon was being emptied out. "This is going to be a big moment for the Small Folk, seeing this lot brought to justice." The Northerner stated. "On the grander scale of this civil war, this is a minor thing, but for the Smallfolk it means a lot. It's about making a stand."

"To the Lords you mean?" Geralt questioned. "I do know the Riverlands faced harsh times during the Rebellion. The Targaryens practically did a scorched earth approach."

"Aye, I remember scouting lush farmsteads that had been burned down, often with the families among the ashes. Some took the Mad King's obsession a tad too literally." Sighing, his gaze drifted to the sellsword prisoners as they were being led to the tree, ropes and wooden stumps being brought along. "War brings out the worst in people and often times they are the ones who get away with such crimes. I have seen plenty of that."

For a moment, the Witcher was silent before giving a small nod of agreement. "All comes down to power and greed. Violence is the easiest way to obtain all of that."

"A simple but wise answer I say." The two dismounted like everyone else, the Winter Wolves forming up on one side of the intersection with the militia across from them while the townsfolk stood between. "Time are changing here in Westeros. The people are tired of being caught between all the warring and highborn intrigue. If needed, we will make a stand…"

It was a bold statement to share, though Geralt could understand why. To Marcus and the militia, he was an outsider to the overall politics, even with his close ties with the Starks. If shared with anyone else among the Winter Wolves, such words could be mistaken as a threat of rebellion, though for the Witcher it was clear a promise of self-defense. Considering how historically the peasantry ever stood up in such a way, it was a clear sign of tensions reaching a limit.

"I know things have been rough in the Riverlands for the last few months, but I can assure you I'm on your side. Even if Stannis himself ordered me to round you up…well…I'd have some colorful words for him."

The assurance and jesting did make Marcus's mood lighten up slightly, even draw a small laugh. "That is one amusing way to build trust." Yet before anything else could be said, one of the militia members stepped up, muttering something to Marcus. "Right…let's get this over with."

By now all the mercenaries were lined up under the broad branches of the oak tree, noose lines all step up before them. Many had a panicked look in their eyes, realizing that this execution was really happening. Both Marcus and Geralt joined up with their companions before the prisoner. Glancing among the crowds, the Witcher at last spoke.

"We are here today to see justice brought onto the leadership of the Brave Companions or better known as the Bloody Mummers among its victims." Yells of anger followed, though it quickly calmed with a gesture from him. "Their pillaging of the Riverlands and attack on Fairmarket are truly war crimes against the free people of Westeros. Normally it be up to a regional Lord to deal their sentencing, but in this case that duty will be left to Lord Beric of House Dondarrion."

With a short nod, the young noble stepped up, a calm yet stern look in his eyes. "The commander, lieutenants and captains of the Companions have been found guilty of countless crimes. Murder, rape, looting, enslavement and torture. Even a fraction of these acts would ensure death." At this point, he pull out a list before reading it out. The first few names were on the lower ranks, captains and squad leaders who had survived the battle. He soon move onto the more infamous members of the group.

"Urswyck, the second in command…" The paled skinned merc had been quite roughed up in the battle, having gotten glanced off his horse. One arm was in a loose sling and one eye just crudely bandaged. Out of the notable members, his one good eye glancing about which betrayed his nervousness.

"…Zollo the Fat…" Being one of the Dothraki in the lineup, he was by far the largest in size. If there was someone the opposite of Ogatto, it was Zollo who was fat in the belly and limbs. Despite such weight though, he had proven to be deceptively strong and active until overpowered during the battle. His gaze glared at Ogatto who stood by watching, who had quite a smug smirk on his face.

"…Shagwell the Fool…" One of the more colorfully dressed members, a quite wispy and short individual dressed in the colorful green and pink motley fitting of a court jester. Out of the bunch he was one of the most crazed, needing three men to dogpile on him to keep the raving fool down. His vile insults and threats nearly had his tongue cut out, only just being spared to be gagged instead.

"…Utt, a disgrace of a septon..." The balding man dressed in dirtied gray priest robes had his head down, mouth moving as he seemed to be muttering what must be a prayer. Suddenly a rock struck across his brow, the man yelling in pain and snapping a wide eyed gaze about.

"Child killer!" A crying yet furious woman yelled out, another rock in hand. "You took my son away you monster! Rapist and murderer!" Her words were sparking up more anger as more rocks were pelted at the priest, who didn't even bother to shield himself, sobbing as he endured being stoned.

"Order everyone! The bastards will die, but not like this!" Beric ordered out, the soldiers having to step up to hold back the mob. By now Utt was on his knees, bloody and bruised from the pelting he got. It took a soldier to hold the man up. Once the mob was calm, Beric would finish his list. "…and lastly Vargo Hoat, leader of this band of criminals." Saying the man's name, seemed to spark some light back into Hoat's eyes, his head tilting up slightly as Beric nodded to the men to begin the execution.

"No! Let me go!"

"I was just following orders! Please!"

"Murder you fucking bastards!"

As snapping insults and pleas filled the air, one by one the mercenaries were forced onto stumps, putting them a foot or two above the ground. With the ropes tightened, the stumps were kicked aside or pushed off. Hanged with only a few feet away from the ground, the choking men struggling to try and reach even one foot to balance themselves, only to be a futile effort. As they were hung, the crowds cheered and yelled as at last justice was being dealt to their tormentors.

Zollo cursed in his native tongue, the heavy man headbutting one of the soldiers and elbowing another as he tried to struggle free. Ogatto though stepped in swiftly, one hand grasping at Zollo's throat which had the Dothraki freeze. The former Blood Rider growled something back in their language, which striked a mix of shock and fear in Zollo. He wouldn't get to speak back though as Ogatto's fist broken his nose with a powerful jab before backhanding across one flabby cheek. The two blows left the fat warrior's face bloodied and his eyes rolled back in a daze. Being too heavy to lift and balance on his stump, the other soldiers just hoisted his noose line up until the Dothraki was heigh enough in the air to begin choking.

Shagwell tried to resist but being so lightweight and bound up left him just squirming about. He still got a club to the side of the head to stun him, giving them enough time to hang him up as well.

Utt meanwhile didn't resist. If anything his limp stance and muttering showed a twisted willingness. "I deserve this. We all do! Our souls are foul and twisted! Only the Sev-" Whatever ranting the depraved septen had was cut short as his words became a choking gasp as his stump was kicked out under him.

Urswyck was next, though much like Utt he seemed resigned to what was to come. "I can do it myself." He grumbled when they were ready to force him onto his stump, stepping up onto it himself. Yet before any of the guards could kick away the stump, a low growl seemingly pierced through the yells of the crowd. The sound seemed to be heard by all as everyone began quiet down as they focused on the source of this enraged noise…coming from Hoat himself.

"All of you…" His words were hoarse yet rumbled with pure hatred. "…are less then dirt under our heels. You fucking mud diggers!" The man's head arched up, tired eyes now filled with a renewed energy, a vile rage. "You think this changes anything! No…you're just delaying your miserable end! Be it the Lannisters or the freaks lurking in the dark, you're all going to die!"

The mood took a sudden twist as the villager's bravado seemingly melted into worry. Even the Northerner soldiers seemed a tad shaken. Despite the fact the man was moments from death, he had enough fury to throw such a dire prediction. For a moment Geralt and Thoros seemed ready to step in, yet it was Marcus who acted first, stepping up to the doomed mercenary commander. The gruff man stared Hoat right in the eyes, showing an unyielding will, though it didn't stop the commander's ravings.

"And you…Marcus." Hoat grit his teeth into a twisted grin. "You best butcher and burn us all! Because we'll be back. With claws to rend, teeth to gawk! I'll kill your town, your wife and that little bra-"

Marcus punched him right in the gut the shut him up before giving a short nod, two militia members stepped up to lift Hoat onto his stump. "Way I see it, you're already a monster." He muttered to Hoat who gasped for air. "And if you crawl out of whatever hell we've sent you to, we'll be sure to throw you right back in again."

With that, Marcus side swept the mercenary commander's stump, any words lost as the noose choked around his neck. Urswyck followed, leave all of the Brave Companions hanging, choking for their last breath. The crowds vigor returned, seeing their enemies facing their end and having their leader show such determination. One by one the mercenaries struggling and twitching came to an end, soon all being limp just hanging there.

"Justice served…" Geralt muttered to his companions, who all nodded and muttered in agreement.

"Hoist them all high and cut the rope lines short. I don't want anyone cutting these bastards down easily! Let them serve as a message to the honest folk of Westeros!" Marcus ordered as the militia and soldiers got to work while the onlookers yammered over this moment. The gruff man took a deep breath before heading back to Geralt, a fierce yet focused look in his eyes.

"Can say I'm glad we have him on our side." Thoros muttered.

"Aye…for now." Smalljon remarked back. "With how wars go, friend and foe can easily come and go."

"Then let's make this alliance work, no matter the odds." Geralt assured his companions as he stepped forward to meet up with Marcus. "Ready to head back to Fairmarket Marcus? Got a lot of work ahead of us."

"Aye, the town and the defenses will need to be fixed up within the week. With the mercenaries broken, we can at last scout the area and learn what the Hells is going on." He grinned, offering a hand out to the Witcher. "Whatever is out there, be it Lannisters or rogue lords…we'll take back the Riverlands from them."

Geralt nodded, giving a small smile before firmly shaking hands with Marcus. "Then let's get started."

…

The Mentor

Mid-Morning – The Plains A Few Miles Southeast of King's Landing – The Lannisters

It had been a long time since the Lannisters had traveled together, which to Tyrion seemed almost comedic. Currently they were riding in the royal carriage, excluding Jaime who was riding out with the King's Guard and the dozens of Gold Cloaks escorting them with Alya leading them. They left King's Landing at an early hour to avoid the crowds, though Joffrey urged a few stops to hand out coin and food from the Red Keep's kitchens. They were little more than moments to improve his image to the Small Folk, though it showed the youth's broadening approach on ruling and politics. At the least, it appeased Tywin's interests on the boy maturing into a proper ruler.

Overall the ride along the plains was a quiet one, no one seeming brave or foolish enough to speak up while Tywin was among them. Currently Tyrion was tapping his fingers along the open window, gaze flicking between to the rest of his family who seemed to be locked in a staring contest and grassy fields. One thing was certain, despite their dysfunctional relationship, they all saw opportunity in this meeting. The real question was what their individual goals were.

"So…" At last Tyrion spoke up, making both Joffrey and Tywin's gazes drift to him. Cersei meanwhile only gave him a glare before focusing out her window, focused on something out of view. "…any theories on who Alya's mentor is and what he has to show us?" There was no answers at first, making the dwarf gesture in an urging manner. "Come on, I'm sure its been on all our minds since last night."

At last Joffrey would speak up. "It has to be lord or a patron from Essos. The amount of influence and money involved is the only explanation." The youth smirked slightly. "As for whatever they have to offer, it will no doubt shift the war in our favor."

"Forgive me if I feel doubtful on that." Tywin countered. "It's never wise to put such value on individuals, especially strangers."

"Ever the optimist father." Tyrion grumbled, though silently he begrudgingly agreed with him. In this situation, there were too many unknown factors.

"Perhaps it be best we wait and see instead gossip." Cersei muttered in an annoyed tone, seeming to want silence.

Everyone would quiet down at that point, Tyrion returning to his sightseeing. As the carriage was cresting over a hill, his keen eyes picked out the odd sight. "Huh…I don't remember a fort or army there." The remark had the rest of his family shuffle closer to his window, Joffrey nearly pushing him aside to get a better view.

They had arrived at a valley that was bordered by ranges of hills, with them on one side while the fort was on the opposite hill. Though call it a fort was stretching it, since it was only a single stretch of cobblestone wall and a stone structure that can be considered mock keep. As for the army, it was just a collection of training dummies decked in leathers and plate to mimic armor. They were even posed in military formations, included dummy horses to imitate cavalry.

The sloping road lead up to the flat hilltop that overviewed the army and fort. A large circle of tents with a shaded pavilion, dozens of people hurrying around to finish whatever final preparations awaiting the royal family.

"Well, this is quite a circus." Cersei dryly jested as the carriage came to a stop, being the first out from her side of the vehicle.

"At least they saved us the trouble setting up camp." Tyrion commented, as he followed her out while Joffrey and Tywin exited out the other side before taking the lead. From a separate carriage that had been part of the convoy, the Small Council would soon be following the royal family. Jaime would join up with his family, flanked by the rest of the King's Guard who were very much alert in guarding them. While they had brought their own servants and food, it seemed their mysterious host had brought his own to supply for the occasion.

"Seems quite the party." Bronn remarked as he walked alongside Tyrion. "Recognize a few faces here. Running or working on a few food shops back in the city. Seems this mentor has some connections."

"Ah good. Means we can throw a bake sale for the Tyrells as they siege the city." The dwarf muttered in dry jest. His attention though focused on the individuals dressed in red. Some wore robes befitting of a scholar while others had work aprons that be seen at a leather or smith shop. They all wore a mask of some kind, be it a simple mouth and nose cloth mask or a more complex beaked mask that were used in times of plague, though it seemed modified in some manner. Whatever the case, they seemed busy moving a variety of supplies off towards the nearby ridge, ranging from small kegs and crates.

"Uhh…very curious…" Pycelle muttered, the Grand Maester seeming to have a more keen look in his eyes. If anything the red garbed individuals eyed him suspiciously, with the old man giving a deceptive kindly smile.

"Seems they don't take fondly to those of your profession." Varys mused.

"No doubt having some trade secrets that even a Maester may not know." Baelish dryly jested to further bully the old man.

The remarks just made the wizen man scoff. "Nonsense. No doubt this lot are…alchemist rejects. Barely versed in proper knowledge."

"Ah…as usual Pycelle, always jumping to conclusions." Another aged voice spoke out, coming from a smaller tent near the group. From it, an older man who seemed to be a few years older then Tywin. The wrinkles around his alert eyes and the trimmed beard on his chin did given him a more wizen appearance, which the weathered red robes and cap of the Alchemists Guild contributed. Yet despite his age, he seemed to good health that be comparable to only other nobles under proper fitness. "Though I have to say its been a very long time since many of us have last met."

Tywin's calm expression did faulter for a moment, which was becoming less of a rarity for his family in recent months. However, even Jamie showed an unexpected realization in his eyes, tensing slightly with the rest of the King's Guard mimicked. Varys did show a hint of a reaction, gaze narrowing in a quite chilling manner. Pycelle's surprised was the most obvious, the old man gawking before stammered in frustrated shock.

"You!" The Grand Maester's usual studder was gone, an unexpected strength in his voice. "I should have known it was you, Zarin! The claims of your death so many years ago were too good to be true."

At that point, Joffrey was quick to speak up before anyone else could. "Fascinating to see such shock, I would like to know what this is all about." The young king sternly demanded. "It seems many of you have a history with this man."

"We all worked together back during the time of the Mad King's reign." Varys calmly stated.

"Indeed, though it seems fate as decided us to reunite once more " Zarin replied, his gaze looking to Tywin who had returned to usual stoic expression.

Almost a growl escaped from Pycelle who turned to Joffrey. "You grace, this man should be arrested! His role during the Mad King rule caused much suffering, including towards your father!"

"That is a bold statement Grand Maester. If we go by that standard, then that mean you and many serving in my court would be counted as criminals." The young king countered, making Pycelle's expression show a hint of annoyance.

"Enough." Tywin sternly commanded, silencing any more debate. "We've come here for a reason, and I am keen to know why." He paused, gaze back on the alchemist. "So then Zarin, what is it that you have brought us here for?"

At that point, Alya would step forward, standing more towards her mentor's side. "A demonstration, a weapon that will change the face of warfare forever."

Her claim drew an excited look from Joffrey, while the rest of the group muttered questioningly. Curiosity and doubt was thick among the royal party.

"Your grace…lords, sers and lady." Zarin spoke up, regaining their attention. "If you would all follow me please." He gestured off to the ridge where his students had been moving supplies, having set them beside three shrouded objects set at the hill's edge.

The alchemist took the lead while Alya hanged back, only following once alongside Joffrey who was quick to follow. Cersei moved to follow closely with her son, her blue eyes showing clear distrust to the Sand Snake. Reaching the crest of the hill, the group had a full view of the valley which included the dummy army and mock fortress. Zarin would approach one of the covered objects, which was about nearly as wide as a carriage and about half as long. Two of the beak masked students stood alert as their master approached, seeming ready for the reveal.

"As many of you know, war is a complex affair. It is driven by the combination of tactics, supplies and soldiers. However many have forgiven the fourth factor…technology." With a nod, the masked students pulled the cover away. It revealed a large iron cylinder set on a sturdy wooden frame with reinforced carriage wheels. The front end of it was hallowed out like a barrel, the opening big enough to fit something as large as a grown man's first. Meanwhile on the rounded end, there was a wax rope was set into a small hole that led into the rear of the iron construct. "Just as our ancestors move from the sling to the bow, this new weapon will change ranged combat on both the battlefield and siege."

The royal party eyed the strange weapon with varying interest, Pycelle seeming the most studious as the Maester neared it. The masked students seemed ready to urge him back, only stopping when Zarin gestured to have them stand down. Joffrey seemed quite curious as he eyed the contraption, head tilted in thought.

"So just what is this hunk of iron? You claim it's a ranged weapon, yet I don't see how it can do such a thing." Walking up, he rapped one hand along the every tip of the barrel which made a faint ringing to it. "Could armor and arm a hold squad with all that metal."

"My grandson does make a good point." Tywin added. "This weapon seems quite costly and complex. How can we be sure it is reliable."

"Perhaps instead of being so judgmental, we let them demonstrate it. I assume that is why we have targets across this valley." Tyrion spoke up in defense for the alchemist.

Zarin nodded. "This is meant to…simulate a battle, where the cannons as I call them, can be used most efficiently." Nodding to his masked students, they would open up a case to take out a filled canvas bag. "First step is loading the ignition, a measured dose of black powder, into the boor which will create a controlled reaction within the barrel."

"Reaction…as in an explosion?" Joffrey deduced, interrupting the alchemist. "If this is a weapon that just shoots fire, why not employ the use of Wild Fire instead? Your guild has in fact been offering their services in producing the Fire for use in the war."

"Hmm…a fair question to ask." Zarin remarked, not seeming bothered with the interruption as his students fitting the bag of powder down the boor with a long leather plunger. "Wild Fire is indeed a powerful substance, however it's far too violate to be weaponized in this way. There is also other hazards too such as its toxicity, risk of igniting and issues of storage. All these factors are lessened with my formula."

"Or so you claim." Pycelle muttered doubtfully, though the alchemist hardly gave a glance to the Maester.

"Continuing. Next a layer of fabric is fitted in to create a snug fit at the back. This ensures a snug seal around the ignition and the shot." At that point one of the students opened the case to reveal multiple balls of iron, all being about an inch in diameter, fitting perfectly in the student's palm. "And lastly the shot itself. Nine pounds of iron, about a third of the weight of a standard ballista bolt." The ball would be loaded in fully with the plunger. "Now, I would recommend that everyone stand back and perhaps cover your ears. This will be quite loud."

Everyone silently agreed as they moved back further along the hill's edge, giving them a view of both the cannon and the mock battlefield. Zarin would quietly speak with the students as they used a spyglass and sexton, using both to take measurements and slightly angle the barrel of the cannon. Once done, the alchemist join the royal party, standing by Tywin who kept his gaze set on the weapon.

As for the students, they would finish their preparations while one got a rod with a spit hook of sorts, one end having a dousing cap while the other a fuse wick. The wick was lit before lowered to the cannon's fuse, lighting it up before the students backed away. There was a tense moment as everyone watched the fuse quickly burn out, with some moving to cover their ears such as Varys and Cersei. At last the fuse reached the base of the cannon before there was a resounding boom, which made everyone in the royal party flinch in shock. Thick, arid smelling smoke filled the air at the base of the cannon, venting out from holes set around it. From the barrel though came the cannon ball, flying out from the bore in a plum of fire. The ball of iron flew out over the crest of the hill, sailing across the valley towards one of the middle ranks of dummies. The group watched as it plowed through a line of the targets, ending with an earthen slam behind the ranks.

There was dead silence from the group from what they witnessed. Varys and Baelish were muttering to each other, no doubt one of their usual debates over the matter. Pycelle looked quite nervous, though over what exactly was the big question. Cersei meanwhile quietly spoke to both Jaime and Joffrey, the young king have quite the excited gleam in his eyes. Tywin though kept his calm, pacing closer to the hill's edge as he narrowed his gaze at the damaged dummy formation.

"Zarin, a spy glass please." The alchemist handed over his for the old lord to look through, getting a better view of the damage. "A whole line wiped out in one attack. Yes…impressive…" It was a rare compliment to give, though Zarin knew more be required to earn his trust. "How fast can it be fired?"

"About half a minute from what my students have practiced. While a proper battle may affect their rate of fire, they should preform effectively if properly protected." Zarin replied. "What is key is setting these weapons on the high ground and facing the enemy. The cannon's weight makes it difficult to angle their line of fire."

"Even so, just a direct volley will be devastating!" Joffrey gleeful remarked. "Show us more! I want to be sure that this first shot wasn't just luck."

With the young ruler engaged, Zarin nodded before speaking up to his students. "Man all the cannons my students! Load and fire at full speed!"

With their new directions given, the masked students began to repeat the loading process. They all reloaded within the same time before firing one after another, focusing on an intact formation. The combined attack destroyed the whole unit, leaving only a few dummies standing. The next volley would more spread out as at differing formations, whittling away the fake army.

"Yes…this will change everything." Tywin muttered, a hint of a grin showing on his face.

Joffrey nodded in agreement. "That we can agree on grandfather."

While Zarin was pleased seeing the two enthralled with his invention, Alya showing the same silent enjoyment at this victory. However, both could tell others were more cautious such as from Tyrion and Jaime. The alchemist had predictions on their thoughts but felt in time they'd come around. Afterall, as powerful as his weapons were, they were just a means to ending the slaughter these wars brought.

…

The next few hours would continue with the cannons demonstrations. What followed next was them being tested against the mock fortress, showing their potential in a siege. The balls of iron bashed against the stone walls, mortar and cobblestone cracking under the powerful assault until a section crumbled apart. Even the tower behind it was chipped apart by misfire, showing that even an inaccurate shot could deal damage.

"Amazing…it take hours to do this much damage with a multiple trebuchet, that is if all the rocks struck properly." Jaime mused, with his father nodding in agreement since he was more familiar with such weapons.

The group had returned to the main camp, having an early lunch within the pavilion. While Zarin had food provided, Tywin had politely urged that they enjoy the food from the Red Keep's kitchens so that it was 'wasted' as he claimed.

"And this is just the beginning. We are already working on more experimental rounds for the weapon, to give it more versatility beyond a solid shot." Zarin explained as he refilled his cup of wine. "Warfare has been too stagnant over the last thousand years. Conflicts will no longer be decided by how many bodies you throw on the field, but through technology and tactics."

"Well I'm sure the footmen will breath a sigh of relief at that prospect." Tyrion mused in jest, small hands fiddling with his wine cup. "Though it may be best to get to the join. What you want in all of this?"

The dwarf's direct question drew attention from everyone else at the table, since the Hand did make a fair point. Despite the many gazes, Zarin kept a calm look on his face. "Simple, I wish to return to serving the court and to be funded on my other projects. My research is beyond just weapon, but on other matters that would improve the lives on everyone in Westeros."

"Such a claim sounds too generous to be true." Pycelle countered. "Besides, what is to say we don't simply take your weapons and black powder. I'm sure I could crack such secrets."

The Maester's suggestion did draw a glare from Joffrey. "Are you trying to speak for me Grand Maester?" The boy challenge, though Zarin gestured to stop any further argument.

"No, Pycelle makes a fair point." Sipping his drink, the old man sighed. "You could imprison me and my students since you do outnumber us. However, it matters if you can understand my designs fast enough then correctly build more, especially with time so short with Lord Renly closing in."

"You seem confident that I can't figure out your secrets Zarin."

"Because I know you Pycelle. As intelligent as you are, you have a habit of jumping to the obvious conclusion to get quick results, no doubt to try and impress." The growing frustration on the Grand Maester's face showed the alchemist was hitting a nerve. "In truth the black powder is simple to make, in fact the mines of Casterly Rock hold enough of the minerals needed for untold number of years. If anything, the Order of Maesters have known of for a very long time. You simply haven't been…creative with its use or purposefully hiding its usefulness."

"Such…such insult!" Pycelle growled. "The Citadel took you in, a low born, taught you so much only for you to spite the our traditions with your rash actions! Worse yet, you stole from the libraries, knowledge that wasn't duly earned!"

Everyone else at the table listened with curious interest, having not seen the Grand Maester lose his temper in such a way. Despite such badgering, Zarin only showed calm amusement. "Well…unless the king finds these complaints reason enough to arrest me, I have no plans of resisting."

A short gaze to Joffrey showed the youth smirking after Pycelle's rant. "If anything Grand Maester, if Zarin has been able to outsmart the masters of the Citadel, that makes him more capable."

"Your grace-"

"Joffrey does state a good point." Tywin interrupted. "Renly could be upon us in a month. If Zarin and Alya so keen to ally with us, then they too understand the risks. If House Lannister falls, they too will be brought down with it."

Despite the quite blunt threat, Alya kept a confident smile. "More reason that we succeed then. I have full confident in my mentors weapon's and can assure you that my allies from Dorne will be ready."

Tyrion chuckled from his seat. "Promises, promises. While these cannons do impress, that is all we are given." The dwarf warned before giving a weary sigh. "But since the young King and acting Regent are in favor, I will accept their decisions."

"My, we are truly in dire times with you saying such things." Ciri calmly mocked, earning a glare from the dwarf.

"Cersei, perhaps it be best that our family continues to have an agreement on something." Jaime calmly muttered in defense of his brother. "These new weapons will be a powerful tool. I would like to see them along with the crews tested further before we rush them onto the battlefield."

Varys and Baelish seemed to be in quiet agreement on the matter, though obvious distrust showed in these eyes towards Zarin. Pycelle grumbled, temper still strong but knowing he was outvoted in this case. "Whatever the crown wishes…I will obey." The old Maester muttered.

Zarin grinned, sitting up from his seat, clasping both hands in thanks. "Then today starts a new era for Westeros. An era that will be one of progress for all it's people." The alchemist boldly claimed. "You are all free to roam the camp and of course ask my students to test the cannons further. We have ample supply of powder and balls." His gaze though moved to Tywin. "Though, I would ask that the King Regent speak privately. There is a few matters that I wish to share with him."

The King's Guard seemed hesitant on the idea, though Tywin gave a short nod of agreement. "Very well. If anything I have plenty of my own questions to ask of you."

"Which I will be happy to answer. Now then, Alya, I leave the others in your dutiful care."

The Sand Snake bowed slightly before urging everyone to leave the tent, ready to direct them back to the hill's ridge. Joffrey was at her side, the young Lannister quickly chatting with her, no doubt on his plans on their new alliance. Soon Tywin and Zarin were alone, a long moment of silence following until the alchemist moved to refill their drinks.

"I feel its time I be more truthful, Lord Tywin…or Regent if you prefer." The alchemist politely replied.

"Titles don't matter in this discussion Zarin. Whatever motives you have, I doubt they are as material as the others."

The remark had Zarin chuckle slightly and nodding. "My reasoning is both personal and driven by my desire for progress. We are suffering a stagnation, a destructive cycle that both you and I have witnessed again and again in our lives." The alchemist rested one arm on the table, keeping a calm gaze towards Tywin. "The people suffering is reaching a breaking point…suffering which I have personally endured." There was a hint of anger in his words, better shown with how his fist clenched.

The manner of speaking drew a questioning look on the Lannister's brow. "And just what have you endured?"

A long pause followed until Zarin at last spoke. "Anderfell." The single word drew a hint of recognition from the Lord. "Its good that you remember it, since so many have forgotten about my old home."

"Home? From what I understand no one else survived. Just how did you escape?"

"A long story for another time your grace." Zarin politely dismissed. "But now you understand my intentions. How I wish to ensure such a disaster will never happen again."

Again there was a long pause, before the resounding bangs of the cannons outside followed. "I will want to discuss this further, another time of course."

"Gladly. For now we do have more current matters to attend."

The lord simply nodded in agreement, standing up from his seat and moving for the exit of the tent. Zarin would get up as well to begin collecting scattered notes across the table. He did pause though when he heard movement at the tent flap, someone coming in. "Ah, Ser Jaime. I take that the King is in good hands for this unexpected visit."

The knightly Lannister had a focused look on his face, a seriousness in his eyes. "Did you know what would have happened?"

"Know what?"

A small scowl crossed Jaime's face. "That day so many years ago. You were the one…who told me the king had summoned me to the throne room." He stepped closer, armored form looming over the old man. "Why did you believe that I be the one to kill the king?"

Zarin's remained calm from such an impactful question. "Because I needed someone that he and the grand alchemist wouldn't suspect, someone who wouldn't betray them. A King's Guard." He shift to walk around Jaime, though paused right beside him. "In the end, you made the right choice."

The answer left Jaime speechless as he let the alchemist leave the tent, standing there in silence. "My choice…" He muttered to himself, glancing down to the pommel of Brightroar, a hand clenching the weapon. It was true though, when he overheard their plans, the devastation that be brought down on King's Landing…what else could he have done? A sigh of frustration escaped from him as he relaxed his grip, feeling weary in that moment. He move to leave the tent to rejoin his family, mind heavy over the most difficult choice in his life.

…

Raven Fall

Mid-Day – Raventree Hall – Hadrian Rivers

Hadrian walked out of medical tent, having just finished a few hours tending to the injured. Lucky the number of refugees had decreased in last week, many claiming groups were heading further north across the Red Fork for Fairmarket. "Hope Marcus is doing fine up there." The young man sighed, eyes squinting because of the hazy light this day. Since the morning, a dense fog had settled over the vale, difficult to see more then yards ahead.

He strolled towards the refugee camp, which had become more of a town onto itself by now. Things were rough, but far better then a few months ago. "Ugh this blasted fog!" A familiar voice grumbled. Hadrian looked to one of the tents to see that larger man, the same one who had been complaining about rationing. "Ah…Hadrian, strange morning isn't it." The villager muttered in greeting.

"It is strange." Hadrian agreed. "The Forks can cause this, but it never last this late into the day."

"Just another annoyance." The man complained as the two strolled along through the camp.

Things were oddly quiet, which was strange to Hadrian. Normally the animals out in the farms or pens be noisy at this hour, but instead it was so muted. The few people they saw walking or working about seemed also on edge, nervous. "Maybe everyone should stay indoors until this passes." Hadrian muttered.

"Heh, any excuse for a day off sounds fine to me." While the man was trying to jest, it was clear he was on edge as well.

Hadrian didn't pay too much attention as he continued along the main road, deciding to check up at one of the watch towers. It had been a few days since his older brothers had taken the bulk of their forces to visit the neighboring Lords, trying to unify against the Lannister threat and the continuing silence of House Tully. Then there was his growing fears of those Crones, the drifting rumors of some…cult further south making him wonder. By now his stroll had him reach the tower, seeing a few of his family's soldiers standing alert.

"Ah! Hadrian, everything alright in the camps?"

"Peaceful enough." He replied back to the guard. "How goes the watch, any sign of our forces?"

"Nothing still, thought I doubt we could see far in this blasted mist!" Yet from the edge of the vale, a sudden blow of a horn followed. "Wait…is that them?" The soldier looked up to the tower. "Do you see anything up there!"

Again the horn was blown, making the men tense slightly. Normally a single horn was to signal a friendly force arriving, while two meant for an incoming threat. "I see torch light heading towards us! Maybe…a few dozen?" One of the guards in the tower yelled down.

"Has to be a forward party." Hadrian remarked, moving along with some of the soldiers to the road. Everyone had their weapons at the ready, with the young man standing behind them. They could hear the horses nearing, the mounts panting and whining in clear terror and exhaustion. The riders soon came into view, all bearing the colors of Raventree Hall. However they were in varying conditions, some minorly wounded and others maimed, one or two even missing a limb. The tower guards were shocked by the sight of hardened soldiers fleeing in terror, not even bothering to order any to stop.

"Wait! One of you hold!" Hadrian yelled out, grasping a torch from one guard to wave for attention. He nearly got ran over by a few riders, only until horse reared up to fling it's rider off the saddle. The soldier uniform was dirtied, a bloody bandage strapped over one eye while the other stared out in pure shock. Hadrian was quick to be by his side, helping the man sit up before he spoke.

"M-Master Hadrian…" He stammered in a exhausted daze. "We have to run! The Hall…have to get to the Hall!"

"Blast it, calm down soldier! Where is the rest of the army and what in the Hells is after you?" One of the tower guards demanded.

"Dead…they're all dead. The mist…came down on us while we camped. There were things…horrid things stalking around…oh gods the screams!" He trembled, sobbing heavily.

"Calm yourself." Hadrian dug into his medical satchel, getting a small bottle of poppy to help calm the man's nerves. A short sip made the soldier relax at the least. "How many of your escaped? What happened to the commanders my…brothers."

"I-I don't know. It happened so fast…we barely got to our horses. The commanders…something massive attacked their tent…I…" At that point he couldn't say anything further when he glanced off to the side. "Gods I can hear them already…they're here."

Everyone one else tensed, Hadrian starting to have the night of his own attack flashing through his mind. The silence was starting to break as there was scampering movement in the nearby field, muted growls hinting the air.

"Sound the bell…ring it!" Hadrian at last yelled out.

The guards in the tower top obeyed, ringing the bell in it. Across the vale more bells were rung, the alert being given. At that point, inhumans roars echoed out, hunched forms running on all fours silhouetted in the mist. The soldiers had their weapons at the ready to defend themselves, though the injured one was whimpering in fear. Suddenly one of the creatures lunged out of the mist, going for one soldier with a shield. He barely stopped it with the barrier he held, though the force of that attack had him stagger back. Two with spears didn't hesitate in stabbing the misshapen thing, weapons piercing putid flesh to pin the monster down. Hadrian stared at the monster, looking just like the one that had attacked him and Marcus.

Despite being impaled, the ghoul howled in fury, biting one spear shaft to break it while twisting to tear it's own body free from the other spear. It pounced on the guard now lacking a spear, knocking him down to tear into his neck with a misshapen jaw. The others closed in to hack at it with their weapons, half a dozen deep blows needed to end the beast. The fighting had the wounded soldier scream, pulling himself away from Hadrian to rush off into the mist, only for his yells to go silent once he was gone.

"We have to go!" Hadrian yelled to the others to draw their attention. "If we stay out here we'll be picked off. We need to get to the keep!"

No one disagreed with that plan, though before they could move there was a deep bellow from the mist. A giant furred creature the size of a carriage stomped down the road, massive antlered head lowered in a charge. Quickly the group rushed out of it's path as the massive beast slammed into the tower's side, rattling it while the men on top yelled in shock. Its massive forearms them struck across it, battering the tower further.

"Shoot it! Shoot it!"

Arrows were pelted from above, yet any that struck did little to deter the monster. Hadrian and the others knew they couldn't take on such a beast, already in retreat back towards the camp. They could hear the men at the tower scream as the structure cracked apart, tumbling apart like twigs. Screams of terror started to echo across the misty vale as the monsters began to attack in the farmsteads and fields, killing anyone they came across. More of the ghouls rushed at the group, most being kept back by their weapons, though a few were unfortunately snagged by the monsters. The rest didn't slow in their run, even though Hadrian hated having to leave such good men behind.

By now they had reached the refugee camp which was in complete chaos. Many were fleeing towards the Hall, some armed with whatever they could, be it stray weapons or sturdy work tools. Screams followed as a group of ghouls had teared through the back of one of the tents, yanking back one villager while the rest fled into the mist in a panic. Hadrian knew that without guidance, anyone who fled into the dense fog would be lost.

"We have to lead people out of here."

One of the soldiers gawked at the idea. "If we linger here any longer, we'll be dead as well!"

"We're expected to help these people. I won't abandon them!" Hadrian argued back. In truth he was terrified, yet his good nature compelled him to stay. Already he hurried to one tent, hearing crying from one family who quickly hurried out to his group. The other soldiers began to do the same, rushing to tents to round up people who were cowering in fear. Anything that can be used as a weapon was snagged by the men as their numbers swelled to over fifty. Whenever ghouls crawled out of the mist, anyone who was armed lash out to force them back or even kill a few through sheer numbers. A deep bellow from the destroyed tower soon followed, showing the monster that had attacked it was moving.

"Damn it, it's that thing again!" One of the soldiers warned. "Hadrian, we have to go!"

"That should be it!" Returning to the group, he waved his torch to signal everyone. "Follow me to the keep! Don't stop for anything!"

It was hard for him to be at the lead, the youth not the most athletic considering. Yet his determination had him press on as the survivors rushed down the road. Despite the thick mist, the looming walls and castle of the Hall could be seen as the braziers were lit to melt away the fog. Ghouls were pushing across the draw bridge, yet despite their numbers and ferocity couldn't easily best the heavily armored knights guarding it.

"Hold the bridge!" Hadrian yelled out, waving his torch wildly.

"Its master Hadrian! Keep the bridge down!"

What remain ghouls on the drawbridge were either cut down or forced off into the moat. The knights moved aside for the survivors to hurry into the courtyard. Again the great beast roared in the distance, closer this time.

"If that thing gets on the bridge, we won't be able to raise it! We have to get it up now!" One of the men warned.

"But there is still people coming this way! We have to hold out a bit longer!"

"If the bridge isn't up, they'll swarm the whole keep. I'm sorry lad but we have no choice."

Hadrian was silent, unable to argue back. By now everyone they rounded up was in the keep, with more from the village hurrying to get in. Gradually the draw bridge was being raised up, with survivors just arriving desperate enough to risk jumping to it. Some made it, other took a plunge into the moat with thrashing ghouls in the murky water. By now it was half-way up, too high for anyone to reach. For Hadrian, his heart sunk seeing people pleading to be let in.

"Wait!" From the back of the crowd, the large man from before hurried forward with two kids under his arms, the crowd parting away despite their desperation to be saved. Reaching the edge, the man yelled as he threw both kids with all his might, both just sliding down the raising ramp of the draw bridge. Hadrian gawked at the selfless act, the man giving a weary grin to him. "Guess I'm not as worthless as I thought huh…" He laughed out despite the grim situation. From the mist the great beast stomped into view, everyone on that side screaming as those who couldn't get away were swatted aside like toys. "Come on you ugly elk!" In last act of defiance the man drew a club he had on his belt, yelling fiercely to draw the beast's attention away from the others. The chort's baleful gaze focused on him, maw snarling as the villager swung his club at it's jaw. The cheap weapon snapped like a twig, the beast not even flinching while the man stood there gawking just before the chort's forearms slammed down with full force. The monster crushed him into a bloody pulp, roaring in bloodlust as it's latest kill before stomping for the raising drawbridge.

With unexpected intelligence, it reached to grasp the bridge, growling as bestial strength fought against mechanical might. The weight of the monster gradually began to pull it down, foot by foot. "Stood the damn thing!" Arrows rained down on it, but the monster's broad antlers protected it's head while it's dense hide and fur too tough to pierce. "Spears! We need something tougher to hurt this thing!"

Hadrian knew they only had a minute to stop this monster, else the draw bridge be forced down again. Suddenly an idea struck him as he searched through his satchel, drawing out a bottle of medical alcohol and bandages. Quickly he combined the two before carefully cracking the bottle, ensuring the glass was weakened but not leaking. Lighting the bandage stuffed into it, he threw the improved weapon with all his might at the broad back of the beast. His aim was good for once as the bottle scattered against the chort's back, making the fluid spread across the fur then quickly ignite. Hot flames forced the monster to let go of the bridge, roaring in pain as it thrashed about. The monster fled back into the mist, the flames light disappearing.

The men cheered, a few clapping Hadrian on the back who was amazed this hasty plan had worked. Snapping out of his daze, he moved off the wall and into the courtyard, trying to get an idea on how many people had been able to flee into the safety of the keep. "Master Hadrian!" The voice of their Maester drew his attention, the old man busy tending to the injured.

"How many have gotten in? It…gods everything happened so fast."

"Several hundred at least…perhaps a thousand." The old man sighed, shaking his head. "We're already taking people into the godswood for now. Too many to manage here in the courtyard."

"Where is-" Yet before he could ask, he saw his father Tytos walking out from the keep, fully armored with his best knights close beside him. "Father it's…the vale is overrun."

The man was silent, only nodding for Hadrian to follow him back up the walls. Despite the calm expression, the young man could sense sadness from his normally stoic father. "My sons…your brothers." He started as the stood on the wall, looking into the mist. "They are gone aren't they."

Hadrian couldn't answer, only bowing his head and nodding.

Tytos took a deep shaky breath, the news paining him more then any other injury. "Then that means most of our troops are lost as well. Whoever is in the Raventree is all we have." Suddenly multiple horns blew off in the distance, the mist then slowly beginning to recede. The soldiers yammered in shock, bowmen at the ready as gradually the devastation of the Vale was fully shown. Bodies were spread across the fields and roads, ghouls feasting on the dead in gory fashion while the chort was far in the distance, having put out the flames though clearly wounded. Along the crest of the hills surrounding the Vale, multiple formations of soldiers could be seen, the rearing red horse of House Bracken's banner being raised.

"Its House Bracken! Hah, we're saved!" One of the men boosted, others yammering in hopefulness.

Yet Tytos and Hadrian showed no cheer as they watched another banner be raised up, showing a blackened barren tree with three eyes spread to the side and top of its branches. The other noticed it, their confidence melting fast.

"Janos…" Tytos growled, one gauntlet clenching tightly in rage. "All the years of goodwill and this is how you repay me. A godless traitor!" Turning about to face the courtyard, the imposing lord spoke out loudly. "EVERYONE!" Everyone stopped, the yard silent as they looked to the lord. "Every able man is to be armed and armored. All supplies are to be packed away for transport, along with any horse or beast of burden the stables have." Everyone muttered at these orders, confused at what was going on. "I want all of this done by nightfall. When that time comes, everyone is to meet within the Godswood. That is all."

Despite the confusion, everyone quickly hurried off to follow their lord's commands. Hadrian was just as confused at what his father was planning, following alongside him as they were heading back towards the keep. "What are you planning father? You make it sound like we can flee from this."

"Some of us can." The lord muttered. "The Vale may have fallen, but there is still one path to safety, one that you and the others will have to follow." He placed one hand on Hadrian's shoulder, making the youth tense slightly. "I wish I didn't have to give you this burden, yet fate has decided for us."

Hadrian was shocked, unsure how to respond for a moment. "I…I'm no leader father. It's not my place…" He struggled to find his next words. "The people need you! You're their lord…they believe in you more so than me."

"I think you doubt yourself Hadrian. There is more to being a leader then strength and experience." He gave a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. "Whatever happens, never doubt yourself or forgo what you believe in. That is what makes you a good man Hadrian." With that, he stepped away while the young man stood there, shocked by the deep words. "I have to prepare. You sister…Bethany…it will be hard for her to accept leaving home."

Hadrian could only nod, at a loss for words as his father continued on to the keep. He took a shaky breath, the stress of the day crashing down onto him. Finding a place to sit, he rubbed his face in worry while sipping some water a kindly villager offered. He felt so many gaze on him, no doubt word of his efforts in leading the people to safety and forcing the antlered beast away spreading. "Can't stop now." Standing up, he moved over to a group of soldiers, quick to question what needed to be done to prepare for tonight.

…

Nightfall – Raventree Hall

As instructed, the people had gathered up within the godswood, directed towards the wierwood tree at it's center. Many of the villagers were awed by the peaceful surroundings, making them forget of the dangers that now sieged the Hall. Hadrian stood alongside the household advisors, being the closet to his father who had Bethany clinging to one arm. The crowds of survivors and soldiers muttered, wondering on what was going on.

At last, his imposing voice spoke out. "Everyone…from the people of Blackwood Vale and beyond it. Today we have lost the safety that my lands provide, taken from us by dark forces and selfish betrayal. Raventree Hall may stand still, yet how long we can not be certain." Everyone muttered, worry clear throughout the air. "Yet there is a path to escape this, a way that every lord of House Blackwood has guarded since the time of the First Men." He gestured to the wierwood. "I know not all of you believe in the Old Gods or old faiths, yet below this tree lies a maze of tunnels that branch throughout the continent. Literal veins of the earth."

The crowds muttered, since many in this part of the Riverlands knew of the old legends. Yet even after the horrors witnessed today, some were doubtful of such a claim. Tytos knew this was expected yet did not try to challenge it. Instead he turned to face the weirwood tree, head bowed as he began to mutter what sounded like a prayer, though in a language Hadrian had never heard. The muttering in the crowd silenced as the wind seemed to pick up, making the barren branches rattle and the trunk creak. Those closest to the tree felt a strange pull to their gazes, focusing on the mournful visage that faced them. To Hadrian, he swore the mouth of that face widened while the red sap that teared down the eyes streamed more anew. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the wind and groaning of the tree stopped, leaving piercing silence. Then shocked voices filled the air as seemingly the tree had shifted backwards over a few feet, revealing a wide earthen tunnel that had been hidden under it.

"It's a miracle!"

"The old legends must have had truth."

"Just…this is unnatural."

It was clear that while many were amazed by this, others were disturbed. Tytos looked winded after what happened, showing that whatever power he had called on did come with a physical price. Despite this, he would speak out. "I know many of you fear the unknown, but I swear to you this path will lead you all to safety. Yet it is a path I sadly can't lead."

Everyone muttered at his last words, confused on what he meant.

"I, along with a token force will have to remain at Raventree Hall. If our enemies suspect it abandoned, they will move swiftly across the area and no one will be spared." He gestured towards Hadrian. "My remaining son Hadrian and my House advisors alongside with my best soldiers and knights will guide you to the safety of Fairmarket. That is the only town that I am certain is safe within the Riverlands."

These new details was much for the crowds to take in. Many trusted Tytos leadership but learning that he was handing authority to his son who had just reached manhood and was a bastard…it was shocking. Hadrian felt nervous, the creeping doubt as he heard mutterings doubt and anger. Yet at the same time words of praise and hopefulness, remarking of his efforts to save lives on this harrowing day. Minutes passed as gradually elders and other appointed leaders of the survivors stepped forward to voice this varying groups decisions. They all agreed to accept the lord's plan, though some were clearly begrudging towards it.

"Good, then prepare yourselves for you will face a difficult walk in the coming days." Nodding to his troops, they would file up to help the villagers be ranged into groups, ensuring any driven carts were in proper caravan formation along with ensuring lanterns and torches were passed around.

Hadrian turned to his father, knowing what was to come. "Father…I…"

Tytos like before placed a firm hand on his shoulder before suddenly pulling him close for an embrace, Bethany joining as she clung to her stepbrother's side. He could heard the stoic lord give a shaky breath, calming himself in this moment. For Hadrian, it was hard to hold back tears as he held his father for the first time since he was but a young boy. After a long minute passed, Tytos let go before calmly slipping the iconic raven fathered cloak he always bared. He fitted over Hadrian's shoulders, giving a small hum of approval. "Wear it well, son." Gently he urged his daughter to let go of his hand, the young girl softly crying yet obeying her father. "Take care of your sister and remember what I said earlier. You are ready for this."

For a moment Hadrian was silent, nodding back as he wiped his tears away. "Thank you father. I will do our House proud." Holding his sister's hand, the two stepped away to join the knights and advisors at the front of the survivor caravan, a horse ready for them to ride. By now the villagers and soldiers were ready, looking to the young man. "Let move forward everyone. Do not stray away from the group or from the main tunnel." With that, he urged his mount forward with a torch in hand, his sister holding on as they slowly rode forward. The earthen tunnel lead down a dirt slope, arch to safety walk deeper down into the ground. Damp soil and wood filled the air with the imposing darkness ahead, like an impassable wall that continuously moved backwards. He glanced back, the hundreds of others following his lead into the dark unknown.

…

New Horizons

Late Morning – The Next Day – Qarth – Ciri & Dany

Ciri gasped as she splashed cool water over her face, grasping the rag she had to dry off her face. When she stared into the mirror, vision blurred on the right side of it. It had been over two weeks since the House of the Undying, where she faced off against the Grand Warlock Kai. It seems despite Kai's claims, her eye hadn't full healed. Perhaps it required more time or the damage was more permanent, whatever the case she would have to adapt to this. For now she fitted on a gray colored eyepatch that Siranea had gifted her, made of the finest leather and silk from the Far East.

"Last day in this city at least." She sighed to herself, bunding her long gray hair back to bind into a proper pony tail. Moving over to the armor stand, she began to put on her duelist outfit which had been masterfully fixed by Harito's craftsmen. With the stylish outfit set, she lastly fit Zireael over her back before pick up her travel pack. Most of her other belongings were already packed away, taken off to one of Harito's ships.

If anything, both she and Dany were eager to escape the politics here in Qarth. Xaro was locked away with most of his remaining fortune gifted to them as compensation for his conspiracy with the Warlocks. The Price of Spices had also paid a hefty tribute for his own schemes, along with the promise of stepping down from the Thirteen. Really, neither of them cared if he kept his position on the council, so long as he never threatened them again.

At the least, they had strong allies with Siranea and Harito who contributed most of their wealth and influence. The Price of Blades had called in his best ships to ferry the Dothraki and his best mercenaries, their destination for Astapor in Slaver's Bay. From there they would plan their next move, though really there was much debate on how to grow their forces. The thought of having slave soldiers like the Unsullied just felt wrong. Yet she felt Daenerys had a plan in mind or at the least they would think of something when the time came.

Just as she was leaving her room, she nearly opened the door on Jorah who had been ready to knock on it. The two stared at each other in surprise before the gruff man spoke up. "Ah…seems you are all ready Ciri." He remarked, giving a small smile.

She smiled back, glad the eye patch helped hide the faint blush on her face. Jorah had been the real hero back at the House, since his fierce intervention gave them the opening needed to lash out against Kai. "Half expecting some last minute surprise. Another threat to get in the way."

Jorah chuckled at the thought as the two strolled down the hall, making the long walk to the courtyard. "Hmm…Dothraki invasion? Pirates? Kraken?"

His jests made Ciri laugh, giving a playful nudge to his side. "After the warlocks, I think we could take any of those all. Just the two of us."

"With that kind of confidence, I could almost believe that."

The compliment back made her glance away again, such flattery from him getting to her. She could see the curious look in the exiled knight's eyes, making her realize how she was acting. "So umm…when was the last time you were on a ship?"

"The open sea? Not for a couple years at least, not since I came to Essos." He replied. "Will be nice to be on the ocean. I sailed often back on Bear Island, at least when the weather was agreeable. What about you?"

"Guess it be since I came here…well this world I mean." She muttered back. "Though, hopefully a Harito's gallon will be a far more comfortable ride then a common barge."

By now the two reached the main entrance, groups of Dothraki and Harito's servants carrying the last belongings to the carts. Dany was among them, in her blue traveling outfit with a few more leather pieces added. Combined with Sigligon strapped at her hit, the Valyrian woman had quite an adventurous look about her. Surrounding her were the dragons, now the size of large dogs. Their plentiful diet and exercise had continued with their rapid growth, going to the point that they could fly around on their own. All three peered in their direction, drawing Dany's attention who waved over to the two.

"About time you got her Ciri, normally you're the first one ready to leave." Daenerys jested. Despite everything that had happened within the House of the Undying, the young Valyrian had kept a positive mindset. Ciri had questioned her over the weeks about the final vision within the House, though Dany didn't know what would lead her down such a violent path. "Everything alright?"

"No I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind after all that has happened." Ciri assured her. Walking over, she petted Rhaegal, the green dragon giving a growling purr as she scratched under his jaw. "Shouldn't delay any further." With a whistle and gesture to the dragon to the top of the carriage, the creature stretching it's wings out to flap on top. It showed that their training was going well, being able to follow some basic directions. Dany do the same for the other dragons, being sure to feed all three cooked meat.

Everyone get into the carriage before it began to move forward, the transport carts following behind. The trip was a peaceful one as the three just stared out their windows to the glamorous streets of Qarth. A few crowds had gathered along the streets towards the docks, eager to see the Prince of Blade's galleons along with the chance to see the Targaryen sisters and their dragons.

Stopping before the main docks, they got out to stare at the looming galleons, ships that would rival those of Nilfgaard. "Hah! At last the sisters arrive!" Harito loudly declared, the scarred trade prince approaching them from the gangplank with the alluring Siranea close beside him. "The high seas await us! It is going to be a good month of sailing, but we'll have no trouble reaching Astapor."

"Maybe sooner if the good weather keeps up, at least from the latest news I've heard." Siranea commented.

"So long as it's a safe trip, I don't mind how long it takes." Dany replied. "I just hope the Dothraki can handle the trip. They have a bit of a fear of the ocean."

"Then they best toughen up in this case! The rough coast doesn't offer any viable places to stop." The Prince of Blades gestured for his men to get the final belongings loaded onto the ships while he led them up towards his flagship, which stood out with it's aged red colored hull. "The Crimson Pride. The first galleon I've had commissioned. Like to think it's tasted the blood of countless pirates who dare cross it."

"Which give them good reason to avoid us." Jorah commented, eyeing the ballista and other weaponry along it's deck. "Nearly rivals the Fury from my guess."

"With more personal comfort, at least for me and my favored passengers." The prince's sailors and mercenaries stood at attention as they approached, relaxing one he gave a nod to them. "Your rooms will be on the first deck just below my quarters, which I have already seen fit to put your belongings in."

"Thank you Harito. As always you continue to impress." Daenerys praised, making the trade prince grin and bow respectfully.

"Now if you will excuse me, I must get the final preparation set." With that, he headed off to the helm while Siranea politely excused herself to wait in the captain's quarters.

"Jorah, could you please make sure the Dothraki on the other ships know I'm on board? Hopefully that will ease any worries they have." Dany quickly asked.

"As you wish Khaleesi." Jorah bowed slightly before walking off the ship to do as he was command, giving a parting wave to the two.

Now along, Dany and Ciri paced to the bow of the ship, leaning at the railing to stare out at the open sea. "Well…one step closer to Westeros." Ciri chuckled, though remarking about the distant continent had a distant look show in the Targaryen's eyes. "Have you thought of what we spoke of…about the Iron Throne?"

Dany nodded. "I'm still…conflicted about it. All my life I've been told that it's my family's right and that the people long for someone of my family to rule." She laughed at the idea, brushing her silvery hair back. "It seems absurd though when I think about it. The decades that have passed since we've been exiles, with only a few stark allies at our side."

"Meanwhile, I still have a father expecting me to take the reins of the largest empire in my world." Ciri compared. "You still have a choice to make Dany." She had one hand reach out for one of her's, gently holding it.

Daenerys gently squeezed it, staring thoughtful towards the west. "A choice on what I want…" The words hung heavy before the flapping of wings filled the air, making the two look about to see the dragons in flight. The grim topic was forgotten as they watched in fascination as the dragons flew about the mast and sails, surprising a few sailors before they divebombed into the waters to snag fish that they grilled in their jaws.

Ship bells rang out as the anchor raised and sails dropped, the Crimson Pride lurching forward as it began to sail out of Qarth's harbor. Behind it the other ships began to set sail as well, following the flag ship towards the open sea.

"Whatever lies ahead, we'll face it together." Ciri assured Daenerys, the kind words making a warm smile cross the Targaryen's lips.

"Together." Dany repeated back, both of them staring out to the western horizon and the dragons dancing through the air.

…

From the Ashes

Cold…a smothering cold was all that could be felt. Silence…no…there was noise, though it was from within. A heartbeat, a labored breath though it was as if trying to draw air through the thinnest of reeds. Lastly was darkness, a bleak emptiness that seemed as infinite as the void between the stars. The memories of such things were so distant, yet bit by bit they were returning. Suddenly there was a disturbance in this cold place, a thumping sound that bit by bit came closer. Fear…a primal instinct of the unknown now looming overhead.

"The hells is this place?"

"A hall you idiot! Probably where those freaks did their dark arts."

Voices, unfamiliar. Four minds could be sensed. There was such hate in their words and greed heavy in their thoughts, distrust among them.

"Freaks or not, the Warlocks must have had something good stashed away. Heard the other say they found riches down here."

"Aye, riches that belong to the Thirteen now. If any caught wind-"

"Just relax! They plan to seal this place anyway. Won't even know we were here."

There was silence for a moment, the thumping sounds growing closer.

"Ugh…place is as dusty as a tomb."

"Probably because it's one. Don't think stuff on the ground is dust…and those look like burn marks."

"What you believe that talk about the dragons? Ridiculous"

Suddenly there was a pause. Awe and shock filled their minds.

"What the fuck is that?"

"An ash pile…but its massive. At least a pyre's worth."

"Never seen one in that kind of shape. Almost like a damned egg."

"Maybe there is something inside of it. Come on poke at it!"

"You poke at it!

Suddenly the darkness was broken, an orange flickering light piercing through it which ached the eyes. Stale air rushed forward, starved lungs heaving to breath it in. The cold embrace crumbled apart, arms and legs thrashing before pressing against harsh stone. Then came the rush of sensations, feelings that had not been felt in a life time. Hunger, thirst and pain assaulted the body at once, a shock that would make a normal human being die in shock.

Yet he had along become more then human.

"Gah it fell apart! Just…wait who the hells is that!"

His blurring vision looked up, spots of white filling it as torch light blinded it. He tried to wince only to cough up human ash lodged in his throat. Doubling over, his dry mouth gasped about like a fish as he heaved out whatever he could, fine ash shifting across his bare form. When he looked up again he could see the intruders, men in sandy cloth and leathers, looters.

"It has to be one of the warlocks!"

"What? After that long? That's impossible."

Suddenly a boot prodded to his shoulder, shoving him backwards against the ash pile. A snarling face stared down, sadistic glee filling the man's mind as he hefted a spear up to strike. "Whatever it is, best we put it out of its misery!"

The weapon bared down, yet seemingly it missed. He felt it just glance along his side, sinking into the dead ash. Glancing to the weapon then the man, he sensed the confusion in his mind.

"Did you get it?"

"I…no just have to…"

He stabbed again, this time missing to the right. A growl of frustration as he went for the head, only to strike over it.

"Hah! Has the drinking got to you! Can't even hit a still target!"

"I'm trying damn it! Just my hand's all…offset or something!"

The growing threat sparked something within his chest, the natural drive of fight or flight. In his heart he new the way of force wasn't his…yet in this case he had to embrace it. This time the spear drove for his chest, only to be stopped by a firm hand gripping the shaft. Shock showed in the looter's eyes as the ashen figure pushed itself upward with sudden strength. His legs shouldn't be working, they hadn't for over a century, yet not he stood tall as he loomed full head over his attacker. Fear filled their minds…fear that he unleashed from the pit of his mind.

Every nightmare and horror he had experienced would flash through their puny minds, making the looters scream in terror. That moment of shock was all he needed as he stabbed the shaft of the spear into the man's chest, the force powerful enough to splinter wood and throw him onto his back. The weapon pierced through the leather, wood driven right into his heart.

"DEMON! IT'S A DEMON!"

The yell made him growl in pain, clenching his ringing ears. His yellow eyes glared with anger before one long arm stretched out, hand partly clenched before he thrusted it upward. That yelling became a scream as the man was flung to the ceiling by an unseen force, a sicken thud following the impact from roof then to floor.

"STAY BACK!"

One lunged at him, his thoughts making the attack obvious to predict as he casually shifted to avoid a slashing blade. He grasped at the outstretched arm, long fingers pressing down at key points at the wrist, cracking it like a twig through precision instead of strength. The man howled before the other hand struck at his chest, an open palm blow that threw him a few feet back. Such a focused blow would damage the heart, giving him six breaths to live.

"P-Please! Mercy!"

Desperation filled this one, the clattering of a weapon showing surrender before hurried feet fled for the darkness. There be no escape for even this one. With a gesture, the man as if something snagged his leg, slamming his front to the floor before being quickly pulled backwards. His hands clawed at cold stone, nails cracking to find any grip before he was suddenly hoisted upside down.

"Mercy?" His voice rung with cold anger, making the looter stare at those golden eyes. "You come to my home. Scatter the ashes of my students…my family…to sate your lowly greed." Those large hands reached out, rubbing down that gruff face, delicate as they traced along the cheeks. "No. Your kind deserves none."

Those wide eyes were held up by those fingers, forced to stare into the void that now filled this monster's gaze. The looter struggled to turn his head, his vision becoming more and more consumed by that void. He felt it fill his mind, eat away at his memories like a beast feasting on a carcass. Blood pooled up from his nose and eyes lids, brain hemorrhaging as his thoughts were forcefully ripped from his head. He was then dropped to the floor like a discarded doll, stammering senselessly from the damage to his mind.

"Peace." Kai sighed out, eyes closing as he processed the knowledge he had taken. Qarth…they believed him and his disciples to be dead, burned away by the Mother of Dragons. Even he had believed in his demise, accepting it even. "Yet how…" It only took a moment of thought to realize it. The Undying, his dearest friends had thrown their lives to him. The willing offering of life combined by the power of the Elder blood and dragon fire…all the perfect fuel for blood magic. While he had tried to rejuvenate through a more controlled ritual, the willing sacrifice had lead to the same…perhaps even greater result. "Their lives for mine. Equal exchange." Kai stared at one hand, thumb tracing over the palm to wipe away the ash to reveal the pale green skin under was truly restored, rejuvenated before the fall of magic, of Valyria.

"How I wish I could give my life for them."

Yet what was done was done, all he could do was accept this final gift from them. Reaching down, he grasped one of the slain looters cloak's, covering his slim form. Right now he needed to rest and prepare himself for what was to come. He was brought back for a reason, to ensure this world's fate was secure from the bleak future he had foreseen.

"Cirilla and Daenerys." Kai muttered to himself as he walked into the darkness of his barren home. "They must be tested further. They must be prepared for the Long Night to come…"

…

Notice: Quite the ending for season two as the pieces are set on the board. Season three, the game will truly begin as all the differing plot lines fully kick off. If anything, I had to cut a few scenes for later on to save on time and space, though expect them to show up in following chapters.

Perspectives will continue to gradually arch out as the scope of this crossover continues to grow, but be assured that Geralt and Ciri will carry the most time still. I am also exploring on my unexplained lore and sort of adding my own touch on it, if the reveal of the weirwood tunnel wasn't much of a hint. Let's just say you should all expect more involvement from the Children and history of the Old Gods. Also curious on your thoughts of Kai also returning as a foe for Ciri and Dany once more.

Anyway, please share your thoughts through reviews or messages. If you wish to join my growing Discord group, simply message me here and I'll invite you. As always, thank you for your support!