"So, the Wildlings came and killed everyone, then?" I asked her, not at all surprised by this, since Bear Island was probably the closest to the lands beyond the wall, aside from Skaagos, which was on the other side of Westeros. Lysa Mormont nodded, tears falling from her eyes. The girl wept, but she did not cry. Hers was a cold and steely sadness. But, something was strange here, I noted.

Nowhere was it mentioned in any of the books that House Mormont had, at one point, been reduced to a single pre-teen. However, there wasn't much about Hose Mormont, in general. It was entirely possible that this event did happen and that, in the original timeline, before I came along and butterflied the future away, Lysa Mormont somehow rallied the inhabitants of Bear Island and defeated the Wildling invaders. Or she escaped, got help from the Starks and then defeated the Wildling invaders and solidified her rule.

Either way, there were Mormonts in the books, which meant all of this likely happened in the past. Jeor and Jorah did not exist here, which meant this was even further back than I thought. It's possible, however, that Lysa here was meant to be Jeor's mom or, maybe his grandmother. I could just ask her who the king was, actually, but I suppose I'd have to wait until after she calmed down and decompressed. The girl was traumatized and injured and was very fortunate to even be capable of walking around, despite Tamara's insistence that she sat down.

"Will you help me regain my birthright, Ser?" She suddenly asked, eyes dark and full of rage. Aw yiss, Sith Apprentice get! But, on a more serious matter, this was the chance I've been waiting for, a way to gain control without going full Aegon the Conqueror. Besides, I felt like engaging in a bit of politics and manipulating everyone, kind of like Littlefinger, would be pretty fun. And, hopefully, entertaining enough that the ROB doesn't shunt me back into the void. But, in any case, I'd keep my options open; if nothing else, an open conquest with an army of the undead would be pretty cool. I'd be Arthas 2.0. Hell, I could call myself the Lich King, which I'd do immediately if I had a sword as cool as Frostmourne.

Ah, childhood memories.

I nodded and smiled. "Of course, my lady. I will do everything in my power to help you cleanse Bear Island of the Wildling taint."

At this point, I wasn't sure what she was expecting from me, honestly. I hadn't shown her any of my undead minions and Lysa herself was unaware of what exactly I was capable of doing. So, her asking for my help just showed me how desperate and dire her situation truly was. Perfect.

"Thank you, Ser." She said, briefly closing her eyes.

"Now, you should get some rest, my lady," I said, smiling. "Your injuries need time to heal. Sleep."

"But... what about the Wildlings?" She asked, the fear of death returning to her eyes. But with it came a sudden realization, I noticed. "Won't they come here? Wait... how come this village remains intact? Were you not attacked?"

At that, I smiled. Before I could speak, however, Tamara spoke. "Lord Jason defeated them all with his magic!"

Lysa's eyes widened. Tamara continued. "He killed them without touching them! And then, he raised their dead to serve him as walking corpses. He possesses magic, my lady, true magic!"

Oh boy. That was not how I wanted to introduce my power to Lysa, but... well... shit.

The young girl looked at me with wide eyes. I wasn't sure if she was simply shocked or if she was afraid. But then her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I would like to see this magic for myself. I've seen my fair share of mummers, pretending to be sorcerers; I think I can tell apart a trick from true magic. If you are what she says you are, Ser Jason, then I would greatly appreciate your aid. If we succeed, then I shall reward you generously – as much as House Mormont can offer in these... trying times."

That was a bold statement to make. She was educated, however, and was probably a lot less superstitious compared to the average peasant. So, it was entirely possible that she could spot a trick. But, it's not like I planned on performing some shitty sleight of hand, which I definitely couldn't do, in front of her. So, with a shrug, I willed forth one of my Wights to walk into Tamara's hovel, right through the front door, which happened be in front of Lysa Mormont. The corpse walked in, naked and dead, eyes ablaze with Necromantic energies – one of the Wildlings I'd executed, I mused.

Lysa froze, her eyes rapidly widening. Tamara stepped away, while Halga simply smiled. I could not help but grin. I walked towards my Wight and pointed a finger at it. "This fella used to be a Wildling, until I killed him. And now, he follows my every command as a reanimated corpse, a Wight."

Hmm, I should probably cast [Decompose] on all of my Wights, just to make sure they didn't start rotting and polluting everything, even if the cold was halting their decay. Yep, next on my to do list. Plus, honestly a skeletal army was way cooler. I couldn't say the same for my undead bear, but I'd definitely prefer skeletal humanoid undead unpaid interns over smelly rotting ones. Hmm, hindsight was a bitch and I should've done this earlier, but eh.

"Is this proof enough of my magic, my lady?" I ask, smiling as I knelt beside her. Not sure why I did that, but I felt pretty cool when I did it. "Or would you like another demonstration?"

Please say no. Please say no. I couldn't think of a single spell in my repertoire that could be used for a safe demonstration. Everything I had could very easily take someone's life; even my cantrips were powerful enough to destroy a large force of Wildlings.

Instead of answering, Lysa Mormont faints, her eyes snapping shut as her whole body goes limp. Luckily, she was sitting on a chair and kind of just plopping against the backrest and then sunk into herself, sliding down. Halga chuckled. "We should probably put her on a be-"

The dragon is hatching; find a safe and isolated place to hatch it or a very hilarious tragedy will occur.

This fucking soon?!

My eyes widen and I practically bolt out of Tamara's hovel, much to hers and Halga's surprise. I couldn't afford to be distracted. This moment was probably going to be the most important moment in my whole life. So, I laid all my Wights to rest once again. I had to focus. I had to put all of my energy into this hatching, because holy shit I was about to see an actual dragon. I ran out of the village and into the nearby woods. A few of the villagers saw me, but none of them followed, which was good; their fear of me was working in my favor, at least. I also definitely didn't want anyone to see this.

I then turned towards the coastline. I'd seen a series of caves on my way to this village and I figured I'd hide in one of them – should be isolated enough. And, fortunately, as soon I reached the beach, I found a suitable cave, large enough for a man to walk through and close enough to the waters that I could dive right in if the baby dragon proved to be a pyromaniac. Without a second thought, I walked right into the cave entrance. The interior was wet and rocky, but was otherwise flat enough for me to traverse it comfortably, without fear of falling down and bashing my head against a damn rock.

A few meters in and I found an elevated chamber of sorts, high enough that the sea water did not reach it, though I couldn't exactly call it dry. But it was good enough, I supposed. I walked up and found a comfortable spot in the middle, where a bunch of old rocks had formed something of a circle. I then reached into my [Bag of Holding] and pulled out the dragon egg. I'd forgotten how hot it actually was, because touching it reminded me of that one time I'd placed my hand on a skillet when I was a dumb kid. But, I somehow manage to pull it out of the bag, securing it at the center of the circle of rocks.

The black egg stirred, cracks appearing all over its surface. And from those cracks came even more smoke, like volcanic emissions, dark and shadowy trails. Oh man, I knew practically nothing about DnD dragons – not a damn thing. And what I knew about ASOIAF dragons was that only Valyrians could control and command them and I most definitely was not a Valyrian, which meant I'd have to tame it the old fashioned way – with positive reinforcement and lots of food. Either way, I was about to have a dragon and it was up to me how I'd use it – assuming I even could make use of it, honestly.

More cracks appeared over the surface of the egg.

And then, the world froze – literally. Because I couldn't fucking move.

"Hey there!" It was my voice, speaking to me in my head, which meant this was the ROB who sent me here. "Yep, it's me, the intern. So, first things first, congratulations for staying alive for this long. Though, to be fair, your character's kind of overpowered for this setting. Anyway, the dragon egg is actually... empty."

What?

"Yeah, hehe, let's call it Schrodinger's Dragon, because it neither exists nor doesn't exist until it's opened. But, I'm telling you right now that there's nothing inside it, because I haven't decided what sort of dragon to actually give, until now!" The ROB said. "So, I figured I was gonna have a little chat with my little experimental subject beforehand. How're you enjoying all of this, by the way?"

I don't know. I kind of preferred being in a civilized world with running water, toilet paper, and all the other little comforts that aren't fucking here. That said, being in a fantasy world is every nerd's wet dream. So, my answer is I'm not sure.

"Eh, fair enough. You haven't been here for that long, anyway." The ROB gave me the distinct impression of shrugging, not particularly caring about what the fuck happened to me. Well, that sort of behavior was expected from an ROB, honestly. Why give a shit about anything if you were omnipotent? "Hehe, you got that fucking right. But, honestly, being an intern in the Guild really puts a damper on the Omnipotent part, because there are a lot of rules that I have to follow or I'll be stuck as an intern forever. Anyway, it'll be a while before we can talk again; so, if you have any questions, feel free to ask them. I might answer if I feel like it."

Ugh... are you going to send me to the void if I'm not entertaining enough?

"Huh? Oh, yeah. No, not really. I can't actually do that if you're still alive. But, as an incentive, I'll be sending boons your way if you do make yourself entertaining enough. And, since you have been properly entertaining, thus far, I decided to hatch your egg early. Aren't I just the greatest?" The ROB answered. And I let out a sigh at his answer. It all meant that my previous worries had been unfounded. I didn't have to be entertaining all the time. So, I could afford to take things slower as needed. World domination could take a backseat, then. "Dude, your idea of slow is very different from mine. I'm like a million years old at this point. I can be patient."

"Anyway, I'm sure you're dying to know just what sort of dragon I got you." The ROB continued. "But, here's a hint: it's not from ASOIAF and neither is it from DnD. I had to make things interesting, after all"

So, where's it from?

"Monster Hunter!"

Oh no. That's so much worse!

Time resumed and the world unfroze. The egg shattered. And, from it, crawled forth a black dragon.