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GAME OF THRONES - MAIN TITLE
- COMPOSED BY RAMIN DJAWADI
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LOCATION: DARGONSTONE
In a humble abode situated just beyond the outskirts of the village of Dragonstone, the esteemed Red Priestess of R'hllor, Melisandre, found herself engaged in fervent prayer before a blazing fire, offering homage to the revered Lord of Light. She had journeyed to this place under the explicit guidance of her divine master, with the purpose of locating Azor Ahai, the Prince That Was Promised. It had been prophesied that the imminent arrival of the Long Night was nigh, and with each passing day, the Night King grew ever more formidable.
Several months prior, Melisandre had arrived at Dragonstone, driven by her unwavering commitment to disseminate the sagacious and sacred teachings of R'hllor. Initially, her presence garnered little attention, but in due course, she managed to amass a considerable following. Remarkably, she even succeeded in persuading Stannis Baratheon and his kin to renounce their allegiance to the Seven and embrace the one true deity.
While the inhabitants of the Seven Kingdoms and their rulers occupy themselves with their daily conflicts, the followers of R'hllor are aware that the true adversary is amassing strength in the distant regions of the North. The deities worshipped by the populace, in their misguided devotion, remain indifferent to the imminent obliteration that awaits them.
Only the Lord of Light demonstrates the concern necessary to rally his adherents and endeavor to salvage their world. In the estimation of Melisandre, R'hllor is deserving of veneration for his proactive measures.
Empowered by her prophetic visions, the Red Woman possesses unwavering certainty that Stannis Baratheon is the long-awaited Prince that was promised. She spares no effort in persuading him of this truth. The man possesses all the requisite qualities to lead the living in their battle against the hordes of the deceased.
Although Stannis Baratheon was a man of unwavering determination, the notion was gradually permeating his thoughts; particularly upon discovering the truth regarding Robert Baratheon's alleged offspring. In due course, he shall assume his rightful position as the esteemed representative of R'hllor and the emblematic figure to rally the Kingdoms together in order to confront this imminent peril. Upon the conclusion of her homage, the Red Woman's eyes abruptly opened wide.
She was overwhelmed by a vision bestowed upon her by the flickering flames. These visions depicted a man adorned in peculiar green armor, traversing the realms with a purpose of his own, yet there was an inexplicable allure about him.
Underneath that armor was nothing but pure rage and hatred, and unmatched power; so much so that Melisandre grew wary of him. The visions then tell a great war orchestrated by an insect of a man and the stranger took no sides as he butchered all those who stood in his way – be they of noble or vile intentions – and he did so with brutality and cruelty that not even the most vile of monsters could ever hope to achieve.
Upon being released from this vision, Melisandre found herself breathing heavily. Whoever or whatever that man may be, even R'hllor himself appeared to be cautious of him. It was evident that he posed a threat, not only to the Kingdoms, but also to the Lord of Light.
Melisandre found it difficult to fathom such a notion. How could any man possibly pose a threat to the mighty R'hllor? Yet, here was a vision sent directly by the Lord of Light. How could she possibly deny its significance?
She could not allow this man, this...beast, to roam freely and bring about the destruction of the entire known world.
What could she do against…
The Footsteps of Doom.
LOCATION: WOLFSWOOD
Robb Stark struggled to keep his eyes open. The warm embrace of his blanket cocoon seemed like a welcoming haven against the icy winds whistling down the woods of Wolfswood. The rest of his family was already asleep, bush-whacked from the long night journey. With a weary sigh he rested his back against the tree trunk.
Owls hooted mournfully somewhere overhead. A gentle breeze stirred the dry leaves around him, sending them dancing up and down in a slow circle. Crickest played music from the grass. Robb could feel himself falling through the peace of the moment, carried away by the fire's dancing flames. He could feel himself floating in the air, maneuvering through the towering tree trunks, drifting beneath a night sky to the distant horizon.
Robb blinked. He scanned his surroundings. Everything was still in place; the forest around him was quiet, the campfire still alight, tents were set, horses tethered, and the sounds of both his family and armored men peacefully sleeping filled the air. He distracted himself with thoughts of the dreams he had, where his mind stored countless images that sometimes faded away or became blurry when he tried to remember them.
One dream, though, remained firmly ingrained inside his head. Robb vividly remembered finding himself at the center of a wide spread field blooming with flowers, the petals fluttering gently on the wind. Blades of grass danced along the edge, creating a pleasant swaying motion. Robb felt content and at peace at the time, he almost thought he was in heaven. Not a day went by where he wished he could go back to that dream.
His second dream, however, was something he would never forget. It had started off peaceful, but soon turned violent. He remembered finding himself at the battlefield's center; a bloody field littered with the corpses of fallen foes. Robb had been surrounded by enemy combatants, yet the battle had ended far too quickly for his liking. Robb felt the urge to reach out for help. Yet no one was present. The atmosphere was filled by swords clashing together, the cries of dying men, the shrieks and wails of dying horses, and the grunts of pain. His world rush up and rolled as his head was cut from his shoulders by the slash of a man's sword. Robb barley slept after the horrific dream.
The third dream Robb remembered fondly. It featured a woman clad in white, standing in the middle of the road. Her golden hair framed her face beautifully; it shimmered brightly despite the darkness of the night. The woman held a small basket in her arms. She smiled warmly at him. The sight made his heart swell with joy. Robb watched as she started forward, reaching out to him.
And then he woke.
Robb ran his fingers through his dark curly hair and exhaled. He wished that third dream lasted longer. He couldn't get that mysterious woman out of his mind for months; her warm welcoming smile, her beautiful golden hair and gentle hands. He wished he could hear that angelic voice again. But it wasn't meant to be. There will come a day that he can find a woman; one that makes his heart sing. But that day hasn't yet come.
Suddenly, the fire crackled and popped merrily in front of him. He realized that someone else was awake.
As if sensing his awakening gaze, Jon Snow looked toward him. Their eyes met briefly in acknowledgement. Neither spoke for some time, simply enjoying each others company. Jon started towards him and sat down next to him.
"Nightmares again?" Asked Jon.
Robb nodded, "I'll always have them. I guess you know that better than anybody."
"That you do," replied Jon as he pulled a flask from his satchel, taking several gulps of water and passing it back to Robb.
After drinking from the flask, Robb passed it back over to Jon. Taking another swig and wiping the sweat and dirt off his forehead. Neither of them said anything else, for their conversation has lapsed into silence once again. They lay there side by side, gazing upward through the canopy, lost within their own memories, and yet somehow connected.
Finally Robb broke the spell between them. "So, what brought you up?"
Jon shook his head.
"I couldn't sleep," answered Jon.
"Well, at least we both can watch the campfire together," Robb remarked with a hint of humor.
Jon chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."
"Well, don't start without me boys."
The pair turned their gazes in time to see the ward, Theon Greyjoy, approaching them while bringing his hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stretched his neck.
"Tell me Theon, you couldn't sleep either or did the Snapping turtles assaulted you in your dreams as well?" Robb questioned with a knowing smirk.
"They didn't invade my dreams! I just had nice ones," retorted Theon, rolling his eyes.
"You mean the ones where you're in bed with a whore women?" asked Robb.
"Yes," confirmed Theon.
Robb and Jon shook their heads in unison.
"And in case you're wondering, yes, I'm still shaken up over those damn Snapping Turtles," Theon declared. "That's the last time I'm ever going skinny dipping in a pond. Those damn things almost chomped off my balls."
Robb chuckled in response. "Wouldn't that be quite unfortunate considering that lake is filled with giant lizards?"
"Not funny."
"I think you should consider yourself lucky since you escaped unscathed."
Theon crossed his arms over his chest, "I know."
"Maybe next time you would take my father's heed seriously, Theon." Jon suggested. "It's not wise for a ward to drop their guard."
"He's right, Theon," added Robb. "When in the heat of battle, it's important to stay alert at all times. You never know when an attack may come. If you let your guard down even for a second – you could die."
Theon smirked, "Oh I know, you need not to remind me."
Somewhere in the far off forest, there was a heavy thump.
Robb and Jon jumped to their feet. Theon whirled his body around to the direction of the sound; a second thump followed soon after. They heard the sound of rustling brush and snapping branches. A flock of birds exploded from the distant tree tops and spiraled upward, akin to a flurry of shadows swirling across the pale face of the moon. It seemed like a giant rock was striking the earth, making it slightly rumble. More powerful with each successive impact.
Those were footsteps, and they were getting closer.
The trio unsheathed their swords and stood ready for whatever might be in their way. They stood in silent anticipation until the sound grew louder and closer. The muffled footfalls reverberated through Robb's bones. He was amazed that his family were able to sleep at all.
The footsteps stopped rumbling and the forest descended to silence.
Something was standing ten feet away beyond the campsite. John took one step forward and saw from behind the tents the figure just beyond the campsite. The silhouette of a seven feet tall behemoth slowly marching forward. Each footstep left a trail of dust behind their feet.
The behemoth drew closer and the campfire's orange glow illuminated the figure's body. It was easily seven feet tall, muscular and imposing, clad in dark green armor from head to toe. Its armor gleamed underneath the flickering fire's light. Jon ran his eyes over the flat, green surface of the armor the figure wore, his eyes followed down, finding lighter patches across their chest and signs of battle scars on the arms, only deeper, and more brutal. Its armor looked battered and worn out. But the aforementioned armor was something Jon never seen before.
He had observed numerous illustrations of Knight's armor from various books, yet none of them portrayed any form of armor resembling this. The armor appeared ancient and weathered, as if countless years had passed without any form of upkeep or safeguarding. Jon sincerely struggled to grasp the sight before him.
The armored behemoth halted its movement in close proximity to the campfire and remained motionless for a brief moment. After a few moments, the behemoth gradually settled down, assuming a cross-legged position while facing the fire. The behemoth gazed at the flickering flames for what seemed like an eternity.
Jon exchanges knowing glances with Robb and Theon. They could practically feel each other's alertness and bewilderment; it was almost palpable. Robb could see that Theon was also on edge, his muscles tensing every now and again.
All of them stood quietly observing the behemoth.
Robb began to approach the behemoth with a measured pace, his hand firmly grasping the hilt of his sword. As he drew nearer, he endeavored to discern any discernible features on the armor, regardless of their familiarity. The behemoth remained motionless as Robb approached, and with caution, he positioned himself beside the knight, lowering himself to a kneeling position. Theon followed closely behind. Both of them gazed upon the armored figure in silence. The armored behemoth, in turn, remained motionless, fixated on the path ahead.
"Excuse me, stranger," Robb started with an authoritative tone, speaking in the Northern accent he used often in front of people. "May I ask who you are and why you have trespassed on our land?"
Silence reigned supreme in the clearing as Theon and Jon watched as the armored behemoth didn't grace him with an answer. They noticed that the knight still didn't move, nor react to Rob's question. This caused both Jon, Robb, and Theon to frown.
"Where do you hail from?" Theon questioned.
Still no response.
"What is your name?" Jon added.
The armored behemoth glanced at Jon over their shoulder. The trio couldn't see the armored figure's face due to them wearing a helmet. The behemoth grabbed a sharp rock next to their feet and without hesitation stabs said rock on the dirt, slowly carving letters down. Once the figure was done they threw it to the side, and placed their gauntlet on the left side of the dirt next to the writing.
Jon and Theon crouched next to Robb, getting a chance to read what was written in the stranger's hastily scribbled carvings:
Doom Slayer
The words sent chills down Robb's spine but also left him in wonderment. What a haunting title 'Doom Slayer?' the name echoed in her head. He turned his attention back to the knight before them.
"I presume that's your title, yes?" Robb inquired, looking at the armored behemoth with a raised brow.
The armored figure nodded.
"Very well, Doom Slayer," Robb proceeded with a smile. "If it isn't too much of a bother, could you tell us your true name instead of a title?"
Robb frowned when the armored stranger didn't grace him with a response. Silence fell over the clearing once more and remained unbroken save the crackling of the small campfire nearby. The atmosphere became tense between the three brothers. No words were spoken, not even when the wind howled through the trees and sent the leaves fluttering across the clearing. Theon's lips parted to speak, but he held himself back from doing so, when the armored stranger spoke.
"William." William answered, his voice rough and slightly deep.
Theon crossed his arms.
"Your full name?" Asked Theon with a raised brow.
William glanced at the ground. "Blazkowicz," William replied. "William Joseph…Blazkowicz…the Third."
Jon gazed at William with wonderment, Internally repeating his name in his thoughts. Blazkowicz. He noted how foreign, otherworldly even it sounded.
"Well, sir Blazkowicz," Theon broke the awkward silence, attempting to alleviate some of the tension. "What brings you here to our camp? Ya 'headin somewhere?"
Barely giving Theon a single glance, William continued staring into the flickering flames.
"I…don't know." William responded.
Jon sat down on a rock five feet away from William.
"I've never seen armor quite like yours before. Do you happen to come from one of the Seven Kingdoms?" Jon inquired. William kept staring intently at the flames. Jon and Robb exchanged wary looks.
"No." William responded, their eyes trained solely on the flames.
"If not the Seven Kingdoms, then where?" Theon asked curiously. William remained speechless and stared silently into the fires.
When Theon tried asking again he felt a hand on his shoulder. His attention immediately shifted to Robb. Robb shook his head slightly, indicating that he should let him take control. Robb turned his gaze back to William.
"We won't bother you with too many questions, so we will save them in the morning. But I need to know something." Robb stated, getting down to one knee next to William. "If we go to sleep, we won't have to worry about you cutting me and my family's throats. Right?"
William glanced at Robb. Though Robb couldn't see William's eyes behind his helmet, he could feel his cold gaze staring deep into Robb's own. The coldness in William's stare unnerved Robb.
"No," William responded solemnly.
Robb nodded.
"Okay."
A/N: And that's chapter 2 young readers! I'll admit, I wasn't sure how I wanted the last part of this chapter to end so I thought this very scene should be enough. Next chapter will be worked on soon so stay tuned until then!