The lands of House Stark - The North - Westeros

With the warming wind of spring, the North was given a moment of peace after the War of the Usurper only a year prior. One rancher holds his wife close beneath the blankets and furs being lulled to sleep by her breathing. He then hears the sheep braying loudly in the barn. Grumbling, the farmer pulls himself from bed and pulls on his trousers.

"Marc?" His wife calls out sleepily from the bed.

He pulls on his old fur coat over shirt. "Got ta' check on the sheep Jany, go back to sleep. Probably just another fox slipped into the barn." He hears grunt before she rolls over in the bed. Putting on his boots, Marc left the room, only to bump into his eldest son.

A lad of six-and-ten nameday, his son was already bigger and taller than him by a head and nearly twice as wide. The sheep were bleating frantically, and seeing his boy bundled up to go outside almost brought a prideful smile to Marc's face that his boy almost beat him checking on the animals. "The sheep woke ya up too?" He asked.

The grunt acknowledged him as his boy dragged his feet against the floor as they both trudged outside the home. With one lantern between them, the father and son made their way through the slush and mud to the barn a short way from the house. Both stopped at the sight of the barn doors swinging in the wind, one barely hanging on by a single hinge. The sheep had gone silent, but they could hear something was moving inside the barn.

The farmer reached out for the pitchfork that laid against the barn, only for his son to beat him to it. Holding the tool like a pikeman, the boy was wide awake now. "Stay behind me father." He said. Equal parts proud and embarrassed, Marc did not grumble as he hold the lantern high as he followed his son into the barn.

Only a few steps in did they find a pile of fur and chewed bones in a twisted pile of bloodied gore. The father and son share a look, only to freeze at the sound of loud chewing further in the barn. In the darkness a creature sat in the dirt and mud, its head rubbing against the wooden ceiling. Marc stepped further, bringing the light to the creature that ate their livestock.

Green skinned, the monster had legs the size of tree trunks, with only a pelt covering its privates. Long, muscular arms led to bloodied hands with fingers that could reach around a man's chest. With the half-eaten sheep between its hands, Marc watches in silence with only his heartbeat hammering in his ears, to see the lift the sheep to its mouth and take a bite, ripping the last bit of sheep apart, only to stop.

Its head turned towards the father and son, showing its face in the light of the lantern. Large tusks the size of his forearm with a long, pointed chin rubbing against its chest. It's tiny eyes widen at the sight of them.

"Borba…" It growls out lowly, only to build into a ferocious bellow, "BORBA!" Tossing aside the sheep's corpse, its other arm struck out in a large, meaty fist.

Winterfell

Eddard "Ned" Stark sat back on his chair as Vayon Poole reports the latest reports from the smallfolk coming to Wintertown in sorry states. For the past few weeks, the stories remain the same. Homesteads and farms raided, if not destroyed, with animals and food stolen. Along with a man or woman fallen to the raiders in a grisly death with a body, or at least whatever is left behind. Ned and most of his men thought it was the work of band of rather bloodthirsty wildlings that have passed south of the Wall. Jory was planning to round up a sizable group of men to rout them before they could cause more damage, only for the Steward to bring news that a farmer and his boy were able to finally get a good look at the raiders.

Giants.

Ned rubs his chin in thought and considering the silence that reigned in his council chamber at the mention of the creatures only heard in myths for centuries. "Ser Jory," He started, all the men in the room focused on him. "You have three days to round up the best trackers and warriors that you can find. Then we will go see to these giants ourselves."

"Milord-" Maester Luwin and Vayon both started, and Ned knew what they wanted to say.

He held up his hand to stop their protests. "I will not ask any man to face such danger, without seeing it for myself. Maybe if we are lucky, the giants will heed the name of Stark on this side of the Wall and we can take them without a fight." Ned stated firmly, hopeful but knowing that giants will probably not yield to the laws of men.

He even felt conflicted himself on going on this hunt, Cat had given him three children with a fourth on the way. They were still young and needed to know what was to be expected as members of House Stark. At the same time however, Ned would lose the faith of his bannerman if he did not see to these rumours himself.

Both Jory and Rodrik affirmed with the order with nary a word, while Vayon and Maester Luwin seemed reluctant, but they would follow his command for the good of the land.

Now he just had to explain to Cat as to why in three nights he must go hunting for creatures spoken in Old Nan's tales.

By the time Jory rounded up enough men for the hunt, hunters were finding signs of the giants in the Wolfswood. There were able to get a look at their camp, but the hunters had to back off after the giants grabbed one of them and tore the man's head off with one hand.

With two ten and four men, Ned and Jory set out four days after his proclamation. A spring blizzard held them back, but it did not snow more than a finger's depth. They skirted around the edge of Wolfswood for a day on horseback to get as close as they could to the giant's camp before pushing through the woods on foot.

After half a day's walk through the woods, Ned and his men found the giants' camp two hours past midday. Despite what his steward had told him days before, Ned still expected the giants to look like as he imagined them as a young lad. Instead in the light of the sun, he saw monsters that looked like no man.

Even slouching over, they were still taller than three men stacked high. Patches of dried blood were spread out around the clearing with the giants, some still had grisly remains while others were piled with an assortment of belongings and the large pile of clothes made his stomach feel like he swallowed a rock. There was even a few smallfolk tied to the trees. The giants snarled and even started to charge towards Ned, but they seem to lose their courage at the sight of two dozen blades behind him.

"Can you speak, giant?" Ned called out slowly, each word hung in the air.

The green creatures only snarl in response. The words lost to Ned, as they were nothing he had heard before. Despite the difficulty with languages, his honour demanded that he make his words heard to the Old Gods. "I am Eddard Stark, Warden of The North. You and your tribe have been found guilty of killing the people under my protection. The punishment for this crime is death. Do you have anything to say in your defence?"

The giant in the lead bellowed aloud, as a mix of spittle and bits of meat flew from its bloodied mouth. Ned could hear the men behind jostle in their furs and armour at the display.

Refusing to allow his trepidation to show, Ned stated aloud, "Then you will face justice upon our blades." With his piece said, Ned drew his sword, which was followed by Jory and the men behind them. Ned called out for his men to split up and surround the creatures. He had one young lad, Grenden, cut the captives loose. The last thing they need was to have the people caught up in the fight.

With numbers on their side, Ned was confident that in the might of their sword arm. Each of the giants was surrounded on all sides, swords hacking away at their legs and bodies.

The few surviving small folk were making a run into the safety of the woods, though it looked like one stout woman was making a dash towards the pile of rubbish in the corner, Grenden right behind her as he was dragged along with her.

One of the men backing up Jory, Laur, manages to duck past the sweeping arm and slice open the stomach of giant, the whole length of the blade. The grunts of pain were music to Ned's ears. Elation filled Ned at the sight, that was a mortal wound so that giant would either die or collapse in weakness. While he took a moment to catch his breathe, he waits for the grievously wounded one to fall.

It did not.

It was still standing, no they were healing. The wound was now half the size it was after Laur had cut into it. Ned cursed when he saw Laur freeze at the sight of the healing wound. The lord called out to his men in warning, but it was too late. A meaty fist came down, pummeling Laur into the dirt and snow. The man tried to stand, but the field was too chaotic. The giant stomps him down, and Ned heard the break from the crushing weight. Ned looked at the battle, what would have been a quick and dirty brawl, had become a battle of attrition.

The men of the North were losing.

Any time a blade cut into their flesh, their wounds slowly started to close. They were already down five men, and it did not look like anything was slowing the giants down. At this rate, Ned might need to order some of his men to stay behind so the rest of them can escape.

"Fire!" The woman that remained in the clearing shouted out. "You need to light them on fire!" She charges forward, yelling and hollering for fire. Ned could see her carrying a glass bottle in her hand. She skids to a stop behind Jory and his men before she tosses a bottle into the air into the giant's face.

The glass shatters and a burst of flame flares up across the giant's entire body. His men cry out in surprise at the sight of how fast the giants lit up, like the first spark in a drought.

"Kill it!" The woman bellowed. "Kill it now!"

Still astounded at the sight, Jory rallied the men. Five blades stabbed into the creature, and it fell to the ground dead. Its body still burning, as the scent of charred flesh grew heavy in the air. The other creatures were getting anxious, both of them tried to escape, but they were still surrounded.

Ned surged forward to the woman, whose head barely came up to his chest She stood staring at the corpse of the creature in a trance, while Grenden kept trying to drag her to safety. There was no time, the giants had a weakness, and his men were dropping one by one. Ned grabbed hold of the woman's shoulders and twisted her around to face him.

"How did you do that?" he demanded. She holds up two more bottles, her mouth moving, but he heard no words. "How did you do that" he asked again. "Just need to toss them." She said absently. Ned grabbed the two vials and was running back into the fight. He heard the half a dozen men in step behind him. He did not look at the bottles in his hands, instead he tosses it into the chest of the creature after it ripped the arm off of one of his men.

Glass shatters against it, and it yowled in anger and pain before it was alight with flame. It was quickly silenced, but Ned did not wait for its death, for he was already running toward the last giant. This one must have been particularly vicious, with nearly half a dozen in bloody piles around its feet. The two men still fighting it could barely raise their swords.

He threw the last bottle, and the moment it left his hand, Ned cursed. His throw was off, the bottle crashes on the ground next to it. The fire burns and disappears in a blink of an eye, the creature's leg only catching a few sparks.

It was enough to burn its way up its leg. The giant shoves past his remaining men and charges toward Ned with a guttural roar. The Warden raises his blade and swings hard, his gouging a deep cut into the creature's arm, catching the bone before Ned pulls it free. The giant was slow to turn, and Ned took his chance. He slices into the tendons of its legs, forcing the creature to ground as its muscles could no longer support it.

The fire had slowed down, barely making it past its waist. Ned leaps back toward its head and swings his blade downward on the back of its neck, once, and twice to behead it. The body stops moving.

It was over.

Ned gave the order to take the heads, but to burn the bodies of the creatures. They were…not natural. The giants, if they were the fabled people themselves, healed almost as fast as they could hurt them. Such creatures could become trouble for smallfolk and all the North.

For now, he turned his attention to the woman who aided them against the creatures. Unlike the rest of the people that were captured by the beasts, she had kept to herself just within sight of the lookouts. She knew the weakness of those creatures, she may have more knowledge about what they are.

For the few smallfolk and the stranger that survived their capture by the creatures, Ned offered healing under the care of his House.

He approached her loudly and she looked up at his approach. For the first time, Ned took in her appearance, despite only reaching his chest, the woman was far broader than most men he has met. Red hair, tightly braided into a bun behind her head showed off the fresh bruises on her wide face from captivity. She noticed Ned approaching and gave him a short nod. "I owe you and my men's gratitude miss. If it was not for your help we would have lost more lives to those giants."

The woman practically snarls at his words, with the first sign of vigor since the creatures were killed. "Those were no giants human. Those were trolls, big lumbering, stupid trolls." She says something, but it was harsh, short and brunt, so he could only imagine that it was a swear. "At least with giants I could face my ancestors proudly in death, but a troll." She scoffed.

Ignoring her words, Ned spoke again. "We have never seen such creatures in the North. How did they get here?"

As if seeing him for the first time, the woman sighed. "Probably the same way I did, following that merchant into those-" she points towards the Northern Mountains, "through the passage."

Ned digested this information. "Can you tell me more, Lady…?"

"Mara of Clan Gorunn." She said. "Though judging how some of your people coped with trolls, I don't have high hopes for how you will take the things."

Their return Winterfell took nearly twice as long with the injured and the former captives. As Ned helps Holland with his broken leg on to his horse, he watches Mara skirting the edge of the clearing. The information she shared was troubling to say the least.

The woman kept to herself for the most part, but from little Ned was able to get from her on the road back to Winterfell, her country lies somewhere within the Northern Mountains. The same place the trolls came from.

Ned had yet to share this knowledge with his council and his wife. It was a difficult thing to admit. For over eight thousand years the Starks have reigned in the North and they missed an entire kingdom beneath his nose. A small kingdom, but a kingdom nonetheless.

At the gates of Winterfell, Ned was not surprised to see his family and his council welcoming his return. It was tradition, and Ned enjoyed seeing their faces after time away from home. When he dismounted his horse, he hugged Robb and Jon. When he kissed Kat's cheek in greeting, he could not help but notice her stiffness in return.

"Is everything alright Cat?" After their embrace, Ned held his hands on her shoulders, feeling her tense with the question. "What happened in the days I was gone?"

Catelyn Stark looked away from him. "While you were gone, the-" Her lips pursed, and Ned could already see the disfavour on Cat's face. "Flints came down from the mountains. She looked especially troubled, and Ned bit his tongue. He knew that Kat did not think highly of mountain clans. They may not be the highborn she expected, but they have always been loyal, if subdued, bannerman of the North. Especially since his mother was a Flint.

"Though rare, some of the clans have been known to come down once and a while. You remember when we first settled in Winterfell? All of the clans came to swear fealty to my stewardship." Ned stated.

Catelyn sighed. "Its not them, it's-" She paused, struggling to find words. "They brought guests with them."

That certainly brought Ned up short. The clans did not care for outsiders, though few do carry some ties to Northern Houses. "That's…different."

With his words said, Catelyn took it for time to continue. "Their guests bring with them outlandish stories. The servants have already been listening to their tales of an entire country hidden within the mountains, a place of magic and terrifying creatures and-and-" She practically fell into his arms. "Dragons of all things. The day past has been…trying to say the least."

"I'll speak with them Cat." Ned replied, as he rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her back. She jumped at the contact, but her usual refusal at such public displays of affection died. She must be extremely stressed by the guests of the Flints.

It took awhile to take care of his men and injured people, but Ned was finally able to make his way to the guest wing of Winterfell close to sunset. His guards did not notice his approach, their heads twisted toward the doors as if trying to hear more of the conversation inside. Ned coughed loudly, the men straightened themselves up. "Lord Stark." One replied, Karst, he recognized. One of his wife's preferred guards.

"How have the Flints' and their guests been behaving? Anything of note?" He asked.

Karst stood at attention, "Nothing of note, Lord Stark. Though both the Flints and their guests got into the rum and spirits, some of the stories they are telling are quite entertaining." The guard avoids his eyes. "Though some of the tales of this Chief Amiri are a little outlandish."

With a nod, the men returned to their posts by the door, and Ned made his way inside.

Immediately he was struck by the sight of one of the men, who did not look human. Like one of the trolls, only shrunken down so he only stands a head or two taller than average than most. He even had tusks like them, though at least Ned could understand the words coming out of his mouth.

"-She pulled back her sword-" The green man-like creature gestured with his hands with his tale. "I thought that I had the Great Amiri on the ropes, so I charged in, only for her to beat the hilt into my face, knocking me out cold. My nose still doesn't look right, and it's been years!" He guffawed and many of the Flints and the strangers joined in with him.

At his entrance, one of the Flints stands up and beelines towards him, avoid a couple of raucous drinkers. "Lord Stark!" He cried out. "Black Donnel Flint, these folks have been helping us deal with some new beasts roving the mountains for the past couple weeks. The Flint said it would be best to have them meet with you. I've seen where they came from." Donnel paused. "It quite a sight." He drifts off with a faraway look in his eyes.

The mingling in the room quieted down, one of the outsiders stood up and came to Lord Stark. The man-like creature who was retelling his tale only a moment before. "I guess you're the Lord of these lands, the uh, Warden right?" He struggled with the title.

"Aye," Ned nodded, though he had to strain his neck to look up at him. "Eddard Stark, Warden of the North. Who are you?"

"Name's Odorr," He jabs at his hide covered chest. "I lead this band of meatheads. I'm just here to tell you the same thing I told Old Flint." He pulls a map out of pocket within the hide and spread it out on a dry spot on the table between the spills of booze and food. A large, marked spot stood out on the southern edge of the Northern Mountains.

"You got a portal to another world in your lands."

A/N:

A new story added, the first in a while mind you. I'm hoping to aim for chapters ranging from 1000-4000 words if I can keep a pace and hopefully regular updates. I've been reading a few stories, A Song of the Northern Sorcerer is a big one and a current favourite.

It's bitchin'.

Read it over twice and it got me excited to make something…similar. Wanted to do sith warrior, but I didn't want to double down on the Star Wars, so I'm going with Pathfinder:Kingmaker.

As a first, causes I am at a bit of a crossroads regarding this story, I am making a request for the curious readers who saw a first chapter. Taking in a consideration of votes from FFN and AO3, I will let reviewers decide what the initial setup will be for the outsider characters.

So people have voted, and its looking like this story will have a general storyline locked in. Though I will be paying attention to the comments. I know right now I've been fooling around with an idea involving WoTR characters making their way into here, but please feel free to toss out your thoughts.