Author's Note: Again, reviews are appreciated, thank you

ROBB III

Robb did not know what to make of these foreigners, exactly. During their very first meeting, they had threatened his life, that tall-hatted man who seemed to be their leader holding a beautifully engraved sword to his neck and threatening his life. Naturally, he was rather loath to trust these foreigners, and he knew that Father and Jon agreed with him.

All the same, that had not prevented the Klutzer fellow from wringing Father of nearly all the information he could, while revealing nearly nothing about himself or his people. Even when Father had finally put him on the defensive after that strange big dwarf fellow burst into the room, Klutzer had managed to put up a fine verbal fight, like the nobles who infested the royal court in King's Landing. Father had always mentioned that the ways of the southrons were rather foreign compared to the ways of the North, and Robb had gotten to see just how much they affected his father so. Theon may call him a wallflower for it, but he was secretly very pleased he never actually had to speak during the discussion, merely watch and try not to waver when the piercing gaze of Templar Klutzer came to rest upon him.

That smoking pipe he sucked from, too. It had taken all of his willpower to not cough when the smoke had been blown his way by the Templar, and he had seen that Jon's eyes were watering too. He very much envied Rodrik being allowed to go and contact Lord Forrester with the rest of the men. In all, managing to keep himself together under such a pressure was something he took no small amount of pride in.

Of course, he could not be blamed for losing all that composure when the griffon had come.

When he heard the screaming, and the beat of wings he had suspected at first that a great eagle flew overhead, and when he had turned to spot the creature he had nearly fallen off of his horse. It didn't help that the poor beast reared and bucked and tried its hardest to flee. It was incredible, something he would not forget until the day he died. A great big monster, a thing of flashing claws and beating wings, feathers of the deepest black and glimmering gold. It was magnificent, a thing out of the stories, like the great heroes of old. Some of the more quick-thinking of their party had drawn their weapons, as though mere sword and spear could slay that. But when that knight Heinrich had slung himself onto the creature, which indeed wore a saddle-like harness, that was when they all were speechless. Now he thanked the Old Gods that Father had urged for caution rather than immediate hostility to the men. If they had attacked these foreigners, Robb was rather certain he would be in the stomach of that great beast rather than riding down a forest path with his friends and kin.

When they had finally settled down later the day they departed from the tower, Father had immediately called together a meeting, consisting of himself, Robb, Jon, Rodrik, and Lord Forrester. They gathered close around a single fire, huddled towards the flames, away from the prying eyes of the foreigners. Father informed them, mostly for Lord Forrester's benefit, what exactly the foreigners had said, what little it was. They discussed the griffon, the titles and appearances of each member of the foreign band, what their possible roles could play. That they had knights was obvious enough, with the man named Heinrich that even now slumbered curled with his griffon like it were some great big cat. Klutzer was awake, and that surprised Robb not at all, for he seemed to be a supremely paranoid figure. His title of "Templar" suggested he was some sort of holy man perhaps, but his armaments were like none he had ever seen a septon wear. Then again, the only experience that Robb had with the Faith was old Septon Chayle and Septa Mordane. Mother had wanted him to receive lessons on the Seven, reasoning that he was as Tully as he was Stark, but they had mostly ceased years back, and Robb never really payed much attention to them to begin with. In any case, the veritable armory that he carried around in that long jacket showed he was no mere man of the cloth.

Perhaps he was a militant of his faith? But what faith was that? They mentioned being servants of Sigmar, but who was this Sigmar? God or man? In Westeros, gods did not have such personal names, but perhaps it was different for these folk. And in any case, they mentioned quite specifically that these lands belonged to a House Todbringer and to an Emperor named Karl Franz, neither of whom they had heard of.

While Robb had payed attention at least to his lessons on heraldry, they helped him not in identifying the magnificent armour that the knight Heinrich wore. It was an exquisite thing, wrought of glittering steel and engraved with shining gold, finely shaped so as to provide maximum protection to the wearer. All on the surface were inscribed skulls and strange fat-armed crosses, alongside slips of parchment sealed on the armor with wax, parchment that seemed to have lines of scripture written on them, though Robb had never gotten close enough to read them further. But most startling to the Stark band was the symbol that was not only obvious on Heinrich, but also featured prominently on Klutzer's garb. A twin-tailed comet, just like he and his brothers had seen that fateful night. If there was any doubt these people were related to the Sign, that destroyed it utterly.

Father had mentioned that it was a suit of armour that would likely drive a lesser lord utterly bankrupt if it were commissioned here, and yet they got the sense that Heinrich was not a great lord among his people. That he seemed to be subservient to Klutzer proved that. At least, for Heinrich it proved that. The other man, the so called Magister Johann, he was perhaps the most difficult to figure out for the Stark party. Robb had heard a hundred names given for the stranger by Father's men; maester, scholar, wiseman, wizard. Father had shrugged off the last of those, not wanting to insult the foreigners by assuming that the robed figure was some sort of mage, an absurd idea.

Robb had to admit though, he certainly looked the part. His swirling robes of midnight blue and rich burgundy appeared impressive enough during the day, but at night… it was like nothing he'd seen before. Then the colors seemed to dance, and the stars and comets woven of silk-of-silver caught the light of the stars and the moon and glimmered with an ethereal beauty. It seemed almost impossible, and the light was such that the Magister did not require a campfire. Instead, he looked up towards the sky, pulling out a small tube-like device startlingly similar to the Myrish lens that Maester Luwin kept, used to study the heavens. On the occasions that Johann put down the lens, it almost seemed like his eyes of midnight blue sparkled like the stars he studied, to Robb's reckoning.

These "Imperials" as the men called them were a strange people indeed, and Father wanted them watched very closely.

That proved to be rather difficult, however, for none of the men, Robb and Jon included, wanted to be near the frosty glare of Klutzer. Nor did they want to be near the snapping beak and clacking growls of the griffon, either. Gods, but it was fearsome, a killer through and through, with those eyes that looked at everyone as though they were a potential meal. Everyone but Heinrich, that is. With him the beast was as friendly as a kitten.

One thing all three men had in common, however, was that that acted extremely on edge the entire trip through the forest, and not just because they suspected the Stark's might slit their throats as they slept. He had seen on more than one occasion an Imperial staring into the forest, a look of apprehension on their face, as though they expected some monster to come barreling out of the underbrush.

As if there isn't already a monster here now.

Robb had to glance up at that, towards the clouds where the griffon wheeled and circled their group like a vulture over a carcass. That comparison made him uneasy. They were now reaching the edge of the Wolfswood, and Winterfell wasn't far at all. Jon rode beside him, and spoke up for the first time in about an hour.

"Makes you uneasy too? Feels like it'll swoop down on us any second."

Jon stared up at the beast too, and then down at the rigidly upright posture of Klutzer ahead of them, his head pointed straight ahead, though occasionally making a gesture of the hand as he spoke to Johann beside him on his garron.

"Though not half as scary as that Klutzer bastard, eh bastard? Might be you two will be friends. He's so solemn, he could nearly be your father, if we didn't know Lord Stark was. Maybe he's your mother, just hiding his cunt under that beaten leather!"

Theon chuckled at his own humour, Rodrik Forrester rubbing his head uncomfortably. Having gotten to know him better, Robb knew that Rodrik was a good man at heart, and had come to be rather discomforted by the blatant hostility that Theon sometimes showed towards the natural born son of Eddard Stark. Or perhaps he was just discomforted by the idea of mocking the dreaded Templar when he was so nearby. For his part Jon bore the jests in silence, solemn and grim as always.

Suddenly, like a swimmer breaking through the surface, they came out of the Wolfswood, the plain that surrounded Winterfell on every side opening up in front of them. There ahead stood the ancient fortress, as grey and foreboding as it ever had been, all grey stone and closely huddled buildings.

But to a Stark, it was home.

A great bell began to ring, no doubt the castle being alerting of their imminent arrival. He and Jon hurried their horses forward, coming to make pace with Father and Lord Forrester. Beside them rode the two Imperials. Robb covertly inspected their faces, hoping to satisfy a boyish need to see awe or at least an impressed look on the stranger's faces as they finally saw his ancestral home.

Unfortunately, he got neither. Klutzer was as impassive as ever, merely raising an eyebrow and casting a speculative eye towards the gates and towers. Robb suspected they may be sizing them up, trying to guess escape routes and blindspots. Why he might need such knowledge, Robb shuddered to think.

Johann on the other hand merely looked towards the higher tower, narrowing his eyes as if trying to gage something. His mouth silently worked, like he was reciting his thoughts to himself.

Together they all rode, the bells of Winterfell tolling all the while, and a great horn sounded as they approached the Hunter's Gate, which opened up to their arrival. Beneath their hooves the cobblestones clacked, as they passed over the moat between the outer wall and the inner. They came upon the inner courtyard, where the stables were, and he saw Mother standing there with his younger siblings, though Bran was curiously absent. All the same, Father rode ahead and shouted to the men manning the walls.

"Hold your fire! There is a griffon coming, it means us no harm, put away your bows and arrows!"

At that the guardsmen, who were mercifully few, looked at their liege with puzzlement clear on their face, but they nonetheless obeyed. Not a second too soon, for now that damned madman Imperial swept over head with his griffon, which screeched and howled all the while. Mother turned white, and instinctively grabbed Rickon and Sansa, as though hiding them in her skirts would keep them safe from a griffon. Arya, who was out of reach, stepped forward, her face alight with wonder. No fear, naturally.

With great crash, the griffon touched down, great muscled legs absorbing the mighty blow. Once and then twice the wings beat, washing them all with a wind like that of a storm. It reared and snorted, tilting its head too and fro like Robb had seen falcons do. It was almost absurd similar the action was, despite the enormous differences between the beasts. Finally, it calmed, and Heinrich the foreign knight clambered down, stretching like he had merely just had a brisk ride through the meadow. He pulled off his elaborate plumed helm, revealing a handsome visage, all sharp angles and tanned skin, with two glimmering light green eyes set in it. Atop his head was a nest of closely cropped black hair. He smiled brightly and looked about, the same amused look on his face as when they met the griffon for the first time. He saw Father frown beside him, no doubt upset that the man could find merriment when he had just scared poor Mother half to death.

Mother was not to be deterred, however, for with a sideways glance at the the now reclining griffon she hurried to Father as he dismounted. They shared a passionate embrace, kissing him deeply despite the good-natured smiles of the Stark guardsmen around them. She then hugged Robb closely, and finally remembered her courtesies, offering a cordial greeting to Lord Forrester and his sons, who accepted graciously. She appeared confused when turning to the strangers, looking to Father, who introduced them for her.

"Templar Klutzer, Magister Johann, this is my wife, the Lady Catelyn Stark."

For his part, Klutzer was polite in his acceptance, if rather cold. What a bloody surprise. Johann merely inclined his head and smiled, thanking her warmly. Now Heinrich strode over to them, his helmet held in the crook of his arm. He knelt deeply and kissed Mother's hand, his manners as fine and proper as Sansa's, and his voice was respectful as he introduced himself.

"My lady, I have the honor of being Sir Heinrich Alweis of the Grand Order of the Reiksguard, in service to Templar Klutzer here on order from His Imperial Majesty himself. I humbly apologize for any fright I may have caused in my arrival. I assure you, Victory here is as peaceable as a hen around the pure and noble."

She was taken aback by the greeting, and with a look towards Father that no doubt meant you will be explaining this later, she thanked him in turn, and offered them the customary bread and salt. Or at least custom in Westeros, for Heinrich appeared puzzled for a moment but quickly waved it away, accepting on behalf of the Imperial group.

Hullen strode up, and giving a curt bow to his liege, spoke now to Heinrich.

"Ah, Ser Heinrich, I don't mean to bother, but I've no experience with the handling of bloody griffons, if you'll pardon my language."

Heinrich laughed then, and clasped the stablemaster on the shoulder.

"Worry not, good man. Victory can watch himself, he'll likely make his own shelter."

Now Heinrich glanced about, studying the towers. He pointed at the Broken Tower in the distance.

"Is that uninhabited? If so, I believe that may serve as a fine roost for Victory"

Father and Mother shared a look, and nodded their assent, explaining that the Tower had been long abandoned.

Heinrich once more thanked them, and was introduced to the rest of the Stark family by Mother. He gave Sansa as heartfelt and elaborate a greeting as he gave Mother, and she blushed a dark red when his lips touched her dainty knuckle. Arya for her part rolled her eyes at the display, and Rickon excitedly asked if he could ride the griffon too. Mother quickly shushed him, clearly terrified by the idea.

Just as Robb began looking about, searching for his younger brother, there he spotted him, deftly making his way down the bell tower beside them, as sure footed as always. Fortunately, he made it to the ground before Father or Mother noticed him and chided him once more for his climbing. He shyly walked over, and Mother finally caught sight of him finally, introducing him to the Imperial group. As Bran greeted them with admirably grown-up grace, Robb noticed the strangest thing.

That Magister Johann was staring at Bran, his bulging eyes from his head, as though he had spotted something astounding.

Robb frowned at that. Most strange indeed.