Chapter 1

—

Eyrie, 17th day of the 6th moon 276 AC

The spring day started out damp and cold. Winter has just ended and the after effects were still felt. There was still snow on the ground. The cold winds persisted and chilled people to the bone. Most people that is. Eddard Stark felt it far less keenly than others. One could ascribe it to Ned being of Northern descent. Perhaps the cause was the long winter. Nevertheless he didn't feel the cold.

Ned wore a thin gray tunic with a dark gray jacket and simple gray breeches. He had simple riding boots and wore no cloak. The second son of the Lord of Winterfell was a pleasant looking young man but not what most people would call attractive. Ned had a long face and was of a wiry build. He had the distinctive dark brown hair of the Starks and dark gray eyes with pale skin. His friend Robert Baratheon was dressed in thick brown and yellow woolen clothes and riding boots with a thick fox pelt cloak. Robert was a charming young man with black hair and bright blue eyes. He was already broad shouldered for his age and very strong.

Ned and Robert were waiting in front of the barracks in the early morning hours. Robert shivered and looked at Ned. "By gods man, do you not feel the c-oold? I am freezing my balls off hereee." His breath fogged the air.

Ned smiled at Robert. "It is refreshing. Plus it is your fault we are up here so early. You simply had to follow that girl?"

Robert smacked Ned on the shoulder and smirked: "It was worth it. You should have come with me and -." He was interrupted by a shout. "Boys, you better start doing your drills. They aren't going to be doing it themselves!" The boys turned toward the voice. Lord Jon Arryn was an imposing man in the prime of his life. The older man had blond hair and blue eyes and was like Robert dressed in thick wool clothing of Arryn blue.

The boys ran toward the barracks for their weapons to get their gear, when Jon called out: "Ned, aren't you freezing?" Robert smirked at Ned as he entered the building. Ned turned to Jon and said: "No. It is not even that cold."

Jon looked Ned up and down and calmly said: " Boy, get inside and get dressed. You will catch a chill." His ward replied honestly: " I swear I am not cold."

"Be it on you boy. You will send a letter to your father explaining your sickness." Jon's foretelling failed as Ned didn't get sick. Nor did he get sick any of the following weeks while still wearing minimal clothing. When Robert tried to do it, he immediately got a chill and had to stay on bedrest. He got quite a scolding out of it.

Ned Stark didn't tell his friend or his mentor that since the middle of winter 274 AC, he hadn't felt the cold at all. He felt warm in his thin clothes and rather hot in any woolen clothing. The windows of his room were always open and he rarely had his fire stoked or even had a fire burning. Since Jon refused to give them any personal servants no one noticed. Ned preferred to stay outside in the fresh but cold Eyrie air. The banquets and other celebrations were almost a torture for him not only cause of the ammount of people there but also cause of the heat that accumulated in the rooms. Thankfully his quiet and somber nature seemed to steer people away to a degree so he always could leave the feast rather fast.

That was a peculiarity that was rather easily hidden and Ned himself felt rather proud of himself of how well he hid it. He wanted to remain an honorable and dutiful son and not disappoint his family. What developed next was a dash harder to cover up.

—

Winterfell, 6th day of the 1st moon 277 AC

It was one of the few times Ned was back in Winterfell. Jon Arryn allowed his ward to visit his family every one to two years if weather permitted it. Once the winter ended and the snow abated, Ned made the trip home.

Once he arrived home his siblings swarmed him. That was Lyanna and Benjen, since Brandon was being fostered at the Dustins in Barrowton. Lyanna was 10 years old and Benjen was 8. They preferred to cause mischief around the castle. Lyanna was the wild beauty of the family. She had long dark brown hair and gray eyes and a slender figure. She missed her more levelheaded brother as Brandon was more impulsive and teasing. Benjen was the youngest of the family and was doted upon by his family. He also had dark brown hair but blue-gray eyes and a roundish face. As soon as Ned was at home he followed him everywhere.

It started with a dream. Ned was in the Winterfell godswood. Many oaks, sentinels, elms, ironwoods and other trees blocked most of the light and created a dark and magical atmosphere. The floor was a maze of roots and small shrubs that tried to catch the limited sunlight. Leaves danced on the floor to the sound of the wind. Ned was at peace walking toward the center of the godswood. The sacred place where many Stark ancestors walked in search of knowledge and wisdom but also freedom. There was no judgment here but that of the Old Gods and their judgment was a quiet one. In the center he found the ancient weirwood tree with its bone white branches, blood red leaves and melancholy face carved in the bark, its eyes red with dried red sap. Near it were also the three ponds. There were no living beings in them, no plants and no animals. The ponds were steaming for they were fed by the great underground spring of Winterfell. Occasionally a leaf floated on the surface.

Ned felt drawn to the heart tree and walked toward it. As he was about to sit down before it as he had many times before, he was startled because he heard a whisper: "Eddard…"

He turned in the direction of the whisper and looked over the ponds. He saw nothing but the trees and shrubs. Not even an animal. "Eddard… Stark" Said the whisper.

Slowly he turned around again trying to pinpoint the origin of the voice. 'Who?' he thought. The voice was faint and old. "Your birthright is…" the whisper started again. Ned turned toward the heart tree, which seemed less melancholy for a minute and more serious. The eyes seem to bleed fresh sap. "...here."

'A sign' Ned thought. The young Stark knelt before the tree reverently and asked: "What do the old gods require of me?" There was a warm breeze and the leaves rustled next to him. It felt like an embrace.

"Find your birthright." The tree seemed to groan. "Dig under the altar." Blood red leaves blew by his face. "Use it."

Ned waited for the next piece of instruction but the whisper disappeared as the wind died.

Ned woke up confused. He looked outside and saw it was still dark out. The sun wouldn't be rising for a few hours. Looking at the gray stone ceiling Ned decided that he isn't going to be able to sleep anymore. He felt a need to leave the keep and castle. Getting out of bed he threw a dark cloak on and decided to go to the heart tree.

Slowly and cautiously as to not alert his family Ned left the family wing of the keep and walked down the corridors to the bailey. As he neared the yard the air became colder and he had to be more careful not to alert the night guards. Thankfully he knew their patrol route and positions. Ned really didn't want to explain to his father what he was doing in the middle of the night if they caught him. As the second son he felt the need to be noticed and do right by his father. He really didn't want to disappoint him so he always tried to be dutiful, do the right things and make the right decisions. But in this case the need to get to the godswood was overpowering.

Skirting along the walls and around the bailey toward one of the two gates of the castle. The main gate was the front one leading the way out of Winterfell to Wintertown. The other gate was the gods gate and led into the godswood. The gods gate was smaller and made out of ironwood. It was less patrolled than the main gate. Ned cautiously looked up to check on the guard on the curtain wall and the gatehouse around the gate. Luck or maybe something more was on his side as the guards seemed to be drowsing. 'Probably should tell father' thought Ned as he gently opened the gate and shimmied through.

It took some time to transverse the godswood toward the heart tree. The Winterfell godswood was the biggest one in the realm of men. Being three acres big and being untouched for ten thousand years. No one was allowed to log or otherwise to interfere in this primal forest. No horses or any other domestic animals were allowed in it. It was a sacred and private place of the Starks. For thousands of years the Starks regularly visited the godswood and particularly the heart tree to pray to the old gods for wisdom to make good decisions, power to reach their goals and peace for they realm they ruled. The sun was slowly rising on the horizon and the slight fog was disappearing. The air was fresh and Ned felt at peace if a bit curious.

As he reached the center the heart tree looked melancholy and there was a bit of new sap in its eyes. Slowly Ned approached and took a kneeling position again before the mighty tree. He waited for a whisper but there was none. Ned decided to pray to his gods: 'Gods of the forest, snow and stone, of the wind, cloud and sun, of the water, sea and shore. Gods of the wild. I have to ask you for guidance.'

Leaves rustled above him and as Ned looked up he saw a red squirrel. Disappointment and mirth warred in his mind. 'No godly sign.' He thought as he watched the squirrel as it carried an acorn in its mouth and slowly climbed down the right side of the tree. There it climbed down the roots and started trying to bury the acorn.

An idea struck him. He slowly walked around the ancient tree. On the far right side not far from where the squirrel was he saw an outline by the roots of the tree. It reminded him of a hand. Hope sprang forward and Ned crouched by the tree.

Ned carefully removed the red leaves and reached the humus at the base of the strange root. The soil was black and still wet from the dew. He started digging. The sun rose higher and higher as he dug. Time seemed to have no meaning. A fervor seemed to grip him. Before he knew it was almost midday and his calloused fingers hit something hard.

A feeling of relief and accomplishment filled him. Tapping the material it made a semi-hollow sound and felt like wood. Ned then started digging around it as he slowly uncovered the object buried.

Just as he was about to pull it out the ground he heard a shout "Ned! Ned!". It was his father. It hit Ned then that he didn't inform anyone of his whereabouts and the amount of time that had passed. 'I am in so much trouble' he thought.

It was then when Ned's father, Rickard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and the Warden of the North noticed him. Rickard Stark was the only adult Stark in the world since he lost his wife a few years past to of winter sickness. He lost the rest of his family to either wars or sickness. The only family he had left were his children. He loved them but had a hard time showing it outward, additionally as the Lord Stark he had always a reputation - to be cold and cunning.

Rickard Stark seemed angry and relieved at the same time as he neared his son. "You stupid boy. We had been searching for you the whole morning when we found your bed empty. The guards are looking in Wintertown and in the woods for you. Lyanna and Benjen were crying. You are in so much trouble…"

Looking at his son Rickard noticed he was in his sleeping clothes, a thin cloak and barefoot. Ned looked a bit pale and his hands were black and dirty, with soil all over his clothes. "Where are your clothes and shoes?" Asked the concerned father as he stepped close to his son. He put a hand on the teen's face and found it cold.

Ned looked at his dirty hands and clothes and said simply: " I don't remember."

"Ned, my son. You are ice cold and you will catch your death. What madness drove you here in the early morning?" Rickard asked, concerned as he took off his cloak and put it around his second son. He rubbed the cold boy's hands trying to warm him up.

"A dream." Ned said reverently as he looked away from his father and down toward the object he had unearthed.

"A dream?" Asked Rickard as he looked at his son and then followed his sight toward the hole in the ground. The hole was at least half a meter deep and went underneath a giant weirwood root. The ground was compact and it would have taken a lot of effort to dig a hole that deep without a shovel or any other tool.

Ned crouched and tapped on the object in the hole. The semi-hollow sound caught Rickard's attention and he asked his son: " Is this what made you vanish in the night?"

The teenager shrugged and said exhaustedly: "The old gods called. I needed to come here. I found this but I don't know what it is." Rickard looked at the crying face of the tree and then at his son.

"Ned, I need you to sit down and take a breather. I will help you get it out." The Lord of Winterfell crouched and used his dagger to help loosen the soil around the object. In a few minutes the object was loosened and Rickard put in front of Ned.

It was a wood chest made out of ironwood and bronze. It was well preserved. There were no signs of damage or rot, only intricate carvings in the wood and runes on the bronze. The top had a howling wolf, the family emblem of house Stark. Surrounding it was the phrase: "A lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." The sides were full of northern motifs with forests, mountains, rivers and animals of all shapes and sizes. The chest joints were made out of bronze and there were runes engraved in it. There was no lock or any kind of locking mechanism on it. All in all it was a beautiful piece of woodwork that would have cost any noble a lot of gold dragons.

Without thinking Ned said the first thing that came to his mind: "Birthright". The word felt correct on his tongue and he felt very protective of it. Rickard looked confused at his son.

"Birthright?" He asked as he took the chest in one hand and pulled his son to him with his second. He hugged the boy to himself and started walking toward Wintefell.

"I don't know if I am mad but…I feel like I need this. Like it's mine… It's precious." Ned said in a soft voice.

Rickard didn't know what to make of it but the one thing he knew for sure was that he needed to get his son warmed up. "Let's get you home and a nice warm bath. Then you can explain it to me. Maybe maester Walys will know what this is."

A terrible anger and fear overtook Ned at the mention of the maester. "NO! NO! He mustn't know!" He yelled and tried to take the chest out of his fathers arms. The wind picked up and the leaves rustled. It felt like they were trapped in a whirlwind of leaves. Rickard dropped the chest and grabbed his now distraught son. He trapped him in his arms and hugged him, telling him in a soothing voice: "It's okay. It's okay. We will not show it to the maester. If it is the will of the gods, we shall respect it."

Ned calmed down a bit but was breathing heavily. It seemed like it was all catching up to him. "Hide it please, Father. It's really important."

"Like I said we will get to Winterfell and get you all warmed up and then we are going to have a good discussion." said Rickard, still cradling his son to himself, thinking 'If only Lyarra was here, she would know what to do'.

They were met back on the way by Rodrik Cassel. House Cassel was a minor house of the north in service of the Starks. They were blood related via Lonnel Snow, a bastard son of a previous Lord Stark and loyalty served the Stark family for generations. Rodrik Cassel was the older son and has a younger brother named Martyn. His father was the master-at-arms for Winterfell and it was expected that Rodrick would take over his fathers post in the future.

"Milord, I see you have found Lord Eddard. Shall I escort you to the keep?" the martial man asked. Looking at his tired and still wound up son, Lord Rickard answered: "No. I shall escort my son myself. But I have an important job for you, Rodrik."

"Yes, Milord?"

"Take this chest and bring it to my solar without any notice and guard it until I come for it. Also alert everyone that we are coming back to the keep. Have a warm bath set up in Eddard's room." Ned shot his father with a startled look as Rickard passed the chest to the guard and Rodrik hid it under his arm and cloak. Rickard pressed his son closer to him and said: "You know that Cassel's loyalty is unquestionable." That calmed down Ned.

Rodrik went ahead of them as the father and son duo made their way to Winterfell.

—

A few hours later Ned entered his father's solar. He was feeling a bit better but was still exhausted. As soon as he had come home he was ambushed by his younger siblings. They were very worried about him and didn't let him out of their sight for the next few hours.

His father had escorted and at some points almost carried him to his room. There was a warm bath waiting for him. Lord Rickard had taken his sister Lyanna and brother Benjen to the side and told them that they could visit him after his bath and keep him company. They reluctantly obeyed his father's wishes and left the room.

Lord Rickard usually wasn't the most tactile and affectionate father for that is not the way of the North. The men of the North were stoic people not showing much emotions and affections in public. All affection happened behind closed doors. But let it not be said that Northman were cold, for they loved strongly and were faithful to their chosen spouse and family.

Ned's father then turned to his son and took the cloak from his shoulders and gently pushed him toward the bathtub. He told him: "You will take a bath and change into warmer clothes. I will order some warm broth to be sent to your room. After dinner you will join me in my solar and we shall talk about what happened today." He gently patted Ned's head and left the room.

In a daze Ned took off his clothing and sank into the warm bathtub. Honestly he didn't feel as cold as he felt tired and mentally exhausted. His head felt full of wool. The warm water felt almost scalding to him but nevertheless he scrubbed himself clean and dressed himself in appropriate clothes.

Ned thought to himself: 'This is the strangest day of my life. First the strange dream and then the incredible pull to find the chest. It is a beautiful chest and seemed very old. I do wonder what it is there. Maybe something from the time of Brandon the Builder or maybe Cregan Stark's time?'. His musings were cut off by a knock on the door. It was a servant bringing him a warm broth. She was followed by his younger siblings, who were determined to interrogate him about his whereabouts during the morning.

The warm food certainly helped his roaring stomach, which reminded him that he hadn't eaten since dinner last night. The servant had informed him that he was to stay in his rooms until after dinner, when he was to visit his father's solar and that dinner will be brought to his room. Lord Rickard had to clean up the mess his disappearance caused and inform the search parties that Ned was safely in the keep. His father had also ordered that he rest but that was for nought as for the rest of the afternoon his sister and youngest brother kept him occupied with their questions and games. His younger siblings went to the Great Hall for dinner. Ned after eating his food went to his father's solar.

The solar of the warden of the North was a beautiful if intimidating room. It was facing the godswood of Winterfell and had a beautiful view of it. In the middle of the room was a giant weirwood table that was at least two hundred years old and had seen many Stark lords and their successors. There were many tapestries of Stark history on the walls and a couple of bookcases full of books both ancient and new. In front of the table were two ironwood chairs and behind the table sat his father with a serious expression.

Ned's father looked up to him as soon as the door opened and beckoned him inside to sit on one of the chairs. His father stood up and went to the door and locked it. He then proceeded to move a tapestry aside - the tapestry was of Torrhen Stark and the kneeling. Behind it was a safe. Taking the keys out of his pocket he unlocked the safe and picked up the chest Ned found in the morning. Seeing it brought relief to Ned. The invisible weight that had settled on his shoulders the whole afternoon seemed to have disappeared.

Lord Rickard carried the chest on the table and Ned leaned closer to it. Ned touched it reverently on one of the sides. His fingers glided on the many engravings on the sides. He noticed that the lock on the top had no keyhole nor any other visible opening mechanism. It seemed that his father also noticed this as he rotated and tilted the chest a couple of times before putting it on the table. "Who makes a locked chest without a keyhole? " Ned wondered out loud.

"Someone who has something precious to hide inside." Replied Rickard. Ned ran his fingers on top of the chest and his finger got caught on one of the dire wolves' engraved teeth. He made a slight grimace as a drop of blood fell. They saw a slight glow around the dire wolf and a faint click was heard. Ned's father tenderly opened the chest.

The inside of the chest was lined with gray velvet. It was made out of three compartments. In the first one there were three books made out of fine leather with silver filigree. In the second compartment was an assortment of small miscellaneous items. But the item in the third compartment made them gasp. It was the original crown of the Kings of Winter, the crown of Torrhen Stark, the king who kneeled.

Rickard Stark tenderly pulled the bronze crown out. It was an exquisitely crafted piece not too thin and not too thick. It was a rather simple piece with running wolves engraved on the side and no gems. On the inside were the runes of the first men. Although the Starks had an unbroken lineage of 8,000 years and they were descended from the first men, the knowledge of the runes was lost.

While his father was admiring the crown, Ned took out the biggest book in the chest. The dark brown leather had a silvery hue and there was delicate silver filigree on it. There was no name in great on the front of it nor the back. Opening it he saw it was written in common tongue. The title inside read: "Heritage of Winter". There was no author listed.

Opening the book on a random page he saw the title: "Son Of Winter". Relief spread through his body as the text below seemed to explain everything regarding his condition - the loss of cold. The text said it was a blood gift of the Starks from the old gods to help them survive trying times, not a curse as Ned thought many times it was.

Before he could continue reading further on the topic he was interrupted by his father who had put down the crown on the table and asked him: "What is the book about?"

Ned answered as vaguely as he could, for he was a bad liar: " It's about our family, our gifts and the old gods. There is much we forgot."

His father noted that and took out another thinner book. This book had dark brown leather with silver filigree and had a title on the front: "Statecraft". He skimmed over the contents and saw it was about the art of ruling the North, about the politics and tactics used by his ancestors, the secrets of the other houses of the North. He put the book on the table and took out the last book. It was a plain brown book with no filigree. It had no title on outside nor inside but it seemed to be a ledger that had been run on a yearly basis for the last 300 years with exception of the last 80 years. It showed the outflow and inflow of money and taxes, the money, artifacts and holdings of the house Stark and how it changed through time.

While Ned was still engrossed in his book, his father took a look at the second compartment with all the miscellaneous trinkets and tools. There was a small valyrian steel dagger with his handle of dragon bone, a couple of fine silver rings and a small vial with silvery shavings inside.

"Ned?"

Ned's head turned toward his father, who continued: " You will keep this secret. No talking about this outside the solar. Wars could start over what you have found." Ned nodded.

They continued reading the books late into the night. This became a tradition between the lord of Winterfell and his second son. As not to alert other people, especially the maester, they did this once per week and named it as additional studying about the North that Ned didn't receive at the Eyrie.

—

Winterfell, 14th day of the 3rd moon 277 AC

It was time for Ned to return to the Eyrie for the last two years of his fostering. He was to complete the fostering around his 16th birthday and then return to Winterfell, where he and his father would decide upon his future. For the last two moons he and his father had made tentative plans about what to do with the newfound knowledge. Ned was to question the Lord Royce of Runestone about the runes of the first men, if and hopefully when the Lord will visit his foster father the Paramount Jon Arryn. If nothing else he was to check the books in the Eyrie about the runes and the knowledge of the first man. His father would search the winterfell library but also request books from other northern keeps.

Ned and his father also bonded over weeks as they read books in the chest and debated about their meaning. Rickard started to appreciate how dutiful and responsible his second son was and sometimes wished that it would rub on his older son, who was overconfident and at times quite irresponsible. Ned was soft spoken but his words carried weight. Although he was quite rigid in his way of thinking and by Rickards account too trusting.

Ned had always admired his father, who was a cunning and hardworking man. His lord father had kept peace in the north and ruled justly for almost two decades, although Ned felt his father was a bit too ambitious. Ned had always strived for his father's approval and attention, therefore it was a very gratifying feeling to share secrets with his father. No longer feeling that he was cursed, Ned told his father about his unique ability of the cold.

At first Rickard was quite shocked but accepted it as a gift of the old gods. After reading the book about their heritage, they discovered that the gift appeared in the family around the age of 10-14 years and never later. In rare cases the gift could appear in younger children. Therefore neither Rickard nor Brandor were gifted but Lyanna and Benjen still could be. Rickard would keep a closer eye on the younger children. The experience made both of them more religious and they would be found regularly in the godswood.

There were many traditions and rituals in the book about the old gods and forging a closer connection to them. Some of them were to be performed at birth of a child, some at marriage and some at death. There were those that required special moon phases and those that happened at the coming of age, which was 16.

Rickard decided that they would be performing as many of the traditions as they could without it becoming too obvious. Rickard feared that there might be spies in his court. He believed that there was a reason why the old gods didn't want the maester or anyone else to be involved with the knowledge they acquired. Rickard would also try to teach his other children the traditions, although he wasn't sure they could keep a secret. Ned and his father agreed they would send ravens more often than before.

Now came time for Ned to return to Eyrie to his foster father and brother. Ned had packed the previous night and was to say his goodbyes. He would have a contingent of household guards escort him to the Eyrie.

As Ned walked to his horse he was ambushed from behind by Benjen. " You will write to me about the knights and your adventures in the Eyrie, right Ned?" his younger brother asked, still hugging him. Ned ran a hand through Benjens head and semi hugged him. "Of course I will. Who else will listen to my boring tales?"

"I just hope you don't write so much about Robert again, Ned" said Lyanna coming to them. Benjen released Ned and smirked at Lyanna. " What jealous?" Benjen asked.

"Of what? Of Robert? pff!" Lyanna answered Benjen, sticking her tongue out. She went to hug her older brother. "Don't forget about us. We will miss you." she softly said to Ned, who tenderly hugged her back.

"Do you have everything packed, Eddard? " asked Rickard as he came to the group. "Yes, father. Everything should be in the packs. The trip is going to take 3 weeks if the weather is good." Ned's father gently squeezed his shoulder. "I expect a raven regularly." he said and moved away from the horses. Ned smiled and got on his horse. Waving to his family he left for the Eyrie.

—-

Birthdates (ages at 277 AC)

House Stark

Ned Stark - 263 AC - 14 years

Brandon Stark - 261 AC - 16 years

Rickard Stark - 240 AC - 37 years

Lyanna Stark - 267 AC - 10 years

Benjen Stark - 269 AC - 8 years

Lyarra Stark - dead

Others:

Robert Baratheon - 262 AC - 15 years

Rodrik Cassel - 248 AC - 29 years

Jon Arryn - 235 AC - 42 years

Technical terms:

Bailey - A bailey, also called a ward, was a fortified enclosure. Bailey was the home of the rest of the lord's household and gave them protection. The barracks for the garrison, stables, workshops, and storage facilities were often found in the bailey. Water was supplied by a well or cistern.

Curtain wall - Curtain walls were defensive walls enclosing a bailey. They had to be high enough to make scaling the walls with ladders difficult and thick enough to withstand bombardment. A typical wall could be 3 m (10 ft) thick and 12 m (39 ft) tall, although sizes varied greatly between castles. To protect them from undermining, curtain walls were sometimes given a stone skirt around their bases. Walkways along the tops of the curtain walls allowed defenders to rain missiles on enemies below, and battlements gave them further protection.

Gate house - The entrance was often the weakest part in a circuit of defenses. To overcome this, the gatehouse was developed, allowing those inside the castle to control the flow of traffic. In earth and timber castles, the gateway was usually the first feature to be rebuilt in stone. The front of the gateway was a blind spot and to overcome this, projecting towers were added on each side of the gate. The gatehouse contained a series of defenses to make a direct assault more difficult than battering down a simple gate. Typically, there were one or more portcullises – a wooden grille reinforced with metal to block a passage – and arrow slits to allow defenders to harry the enemy. The passage through the gatehouse was lengthened to increase the amount of time an assailant had to spend under fire in a confined space and unable to retaliate.

Authors note: Looking for a co-author or a good beta reader.