Jon absorbed every detail Trogga revealed about Thrain, a man feared as much for his power as for his cruelty. From Trogga's words, Jon sensed that Thrain wasn't merely a tyrant—he was a cunning predator who wielded his abilities as a skinchanger with a relentless, almost supernatural vigilance. Thrain's control over Skagos was so absolute that he seemingly knew everything that happened within his domain. And if he was a skinchanger as powerful as Trogga implied, then he could be watching them even now, through the eyes of animals.
This thought gave Jon pause. As a skinchanger himself, he understood the limitations and possibilities of the skill, but he'd never encountered another skinchanger who could use their abilities to such a degree. Thrain's strength came from more than brute force—it came from his connection to the very land and creatures that surrounded them. If Thrain could indeed inhabit the bodies of birds, wolves, or even the stray foxes that roamed these woods, Jon's company would have little chance of approaching him undetected.
Realizing their vulnerability, Jon moved swiftly. Their current campsite, though partially hidden by trees, was still too exposed to any lurking eyes or ears. He ordered his men to break camp immediately, with instructions to do so in complete silence. They slipped away in the dead of night, moving deeper into the dense forests of Skagos, guided by the thin light of the moon. After hours of cautious travel, Jon led them to a more concealed location, a grove surrounded by high cliffs and thick underbrush, where the shadows clung like mist. Here, he instructed his men to set up a minimal, temporary base, far from any obvious trails or paths.
Once they were settled, Jon sat in meditation, reaching out to the land around him. His skinchanging abilities had always served him well in moments like this, allowing him to extend his perception far beyond his own body. He slowly slipped into the consciousness of the smaller creatures that roamed the area—first a raven perched high on a crag, then a fox slinking through the undergrowth, and finally a mountain hare nestled among the rocks.
Through the raven's eyes, Jon saw the vast stretches of Skagos from above, observing the hidden pathways that wove through the island like veins. He watched as bands of Thrain's soldiers moved through the forests below, alert and heavily armed. Thrain's grip on the land was as firm as the rumors had suggested; every corner of the island was watched, every road patrolled. Jon noted strategic points, potential ambush locations, and several small encampments scattered across the territory.
The fox and hare offered a closer, more detailed view. With them, Jon detected scents in the air and the faint echoes of voices in the distance. In one particularly secluded valley, he spied a narrow pass leading to a hidden village where Thrain's enforcers gathered—a place where they were likely resupplying or meeting with other warriors. This village seemed heavily guarded, but the defenses didn't worry Jon as much as the overwhelming sense of dread that clung to the place. He suspected it was one of Thrain's core outposts.
With these observations, Jon slipped back into his own body, awakening to find his men awaiting his instructions. He summoned his most trusted warriors, those who had stood by him through countless battles and skirmishes, and shared what he had seen.
"Thrain is more than just a ruler here—he's a hunter. He watches the land through more eyes than we can count, but there are ways around his sight." Jon's voice was calm, even as he weighed the enormity of the task before them. "We'll need to use the shadows as he does, learn the rhythms of his men, and strike where he won't expect."
One of his men, a seasoned fighter named Harren, glanced around the dark grove. "You mean to out-skinchange him, my lord? Fight him with his own tricks?"
Jon nodded. "We have an advantage in that we know he's watching, but he doesn't yet know that I am as well. We'll move like ghosts, stay hidden from his men, and gather intelligence before making any major move. Thrain's power lies in his control over this land. If we can disrupt that—cut off his eyes and ears—he'll be weakened."
The men murmured in agreement, their determination palpable. For many of them, the thought of facing a ruler like Thrain was both exhilarating and intimidating. But Jon's presence bolstered them; his reputation and his own skinchanging abilities were a reminder that Thrain wasn't the only formidable force on Skagos.
Over the next days, Jon sent out small scouting parties in the form of skinchanged animals. A raven would fly overhead, scanning for hidden troops or newly fortified positions, while wolves prowled the forest floor, sniffing out trails and abandoned campsites. Through these animals, Jon kept a close eye on Thrain's movements, all the while avoiding direct confrontation to keep his own presence concealed.
He gradually pieced together the shape of Thrain's power: hidden villages under constant patrol, families forced into loyalty through fear, and small groups of rebels hiding from Thrain's men, eking out a meager existence in secret. Every detail painted a clearer picture of the tyrant's grip over Skagos.
One night, after another successful scouting mission, Jon gathered his men and began laying out the next phase of their strategy. "Thrain's strength comes from his fearmongering, from keeping these people under his heel with no hope of resistance," he explained, his voice a mixture of calm resolve and underlying fire. "We're going to change that. First, we'll make contact with the locals, find those who are willing to fight. We'll show them that Thrain is not invincible."
In the days that followed, Jon's forces launched a series of small, precise strikes on Thrain's patrols and outposts, ambushing isolated groups and reclaiming supplies. Each move was calculated, designed to weaken Thrain's reach while rallying the people of Skagos to their side. They targeted areas where Thrain's men were less concentrated, gradually dismantling his network of control piece by piece.
News of Jon's resistance spread like wildfire. His men spoke of freedom from Thrain, of a new ruler who fought alongside his warriors rather than ruling through fear. Small bands of Skagosi, emboldened by these stories, began to join Jon's cause. Slowly but surely, the balance of power shifted.
Through it all, Jon continued to outmaneuver Thrain's skinchanging abilities, staying one step ahead, keeping his movements invisible. In his moments of quiet, as he prepared for the next attack, he thought of the day he would finally face Thrain in person, to free Skagos from the iron grip of its cruel ruler. He knew it would be his greatest challenge yet—an adversary who shared his strengths, but whose merciless rule had left a scar across this land.
As the camp settled in for the night, Jon gathered his most trusted men around a small, crackling fire. The northern winds bit at their faces, but Jon's focus was unbroken as he looked over each of them with a steely gaze.
"We need to be cautious," Jon said, his voice low but resolute. "Word of our presence has already spread, and more of Thrain's people will come sniffing around soon enough. Not all those who flock to us are friends."
One of his lieutenants, a grizzled man named Goran, nodded. "Aye, Lord Frost. I've seen a few of them lurking on the edge of camp, watching more than speaking. They look at us like wolves sizing up prey."
Jon's expression was hard. "We'll handle them. But not yet. First, we need information—anything that can give us an advantage."
The group murmured in agreement, and Jon turned to the man he had named as his scout, a wiry, sharp-eyed warrior named Artos. "Artos, I want you to take two men and head east at dawn. Find the routes Thrain's forces are using to move supplies. We'll cut off his resources and make him feel the strain."
Artos nodded. "Understood, Jon. And what of the newcomers? A few of them seem… nervous."
Jon leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Keep a close watch. I'll speak to some of them myself. But I want you and the others to be prepared. If they turn on us, we'll need to be ready."
Later that night, Jon approached a group of newcomers who sat huddled around their own fire. He studied them silently for a moment before stepping into the light, his presence commanding immediate attention. The group went quiet, eyes wide as they recognized him.
"Lord Frost," one of the men said, bowing his head.
"Save your bows," Jon replied calmly, though his tone carried a faint edge. "I'm here for answers, not pleasantries. Tell me about Thrain. What hold does he have over you?"
The man looked around nervously before speaking, his voice shaky. "He… he takes our sons and daughters as… collateral. For loyalty. Those who resist him are… punished. Brutally."
Another man, his face lined with scars, added, "Thrain makes sure there's no escape. Even the children are marked with his symbol so everyone knows they belong to him."
Jon's jaw clenched. "And yet you came here, risking yourselves to reach me. Why?"
A woman in the group, her face weathered but determined, spoke up. "Because we have nothing left to lose, Lord Frost. We've seen our families torn apart. The Skagosi are proud, but even we have our limits. We need someone to stand up to Thrain."
Jon met her gaze, understanding the depth of desperation in her eyes. "If you're here to join us, understand that there will be blood. I don't fight halfway."
The woman didn't flinch. "Then we're ready, my lord."
Jon nodded, satisfied, but he hadn't let down his guard. He gestured to one of his men, who subtly positioned himself closer to the group, keeping an eye on the strangers as Jon walked away.
The next morning, Jon sat with the three captives he'd kept separate from the camp. Trogga, the only one left who had spoken to him, looked exhausted, but fear kept his gaze sharp.
"Tell me about Thrain's movements," Jon demanded, crouching before him. "How often does he send scouts? How large are his patrols?"
Trogga hesitated, his hands trembling. "He has eyes everywhere. Skinchangers like yourself, even if they're not as strong. Birds, wolves… he'll know if you're coming."
Jon's eyes narrowed. "And yet he hasn't sent his full force here, has he? Perhaps he doesn't see me as a true threat."
Trogga swallowed hard. "You don't know what he's capable of. Thrain is… different. He doesn't just fight with weapons; he fights with fear. He'll find your weakness."
Jon's voice dropped, his tone cold. "I don't have any weaknesses, Trogga. But Thrain will find out soon enough that the Starks don't yield."
Seeing Jon's unflinching determination, Trogga's fear began to waver. "Then… maybe… maybe he can be stopped. But he'll come after you with everything he has."
Jon rose, glancing back at his men. "Let him come. I want him to see what it means to stand against a Stark."
As the day wore on, word of Jon's resolve spread through the camp. That evening, when Jon addressed his gathered forces, they felt the iron in his words.
"We fight for our freedom, for every life that Thrain has stolen from us," Jon declared, his voice carrying through the crowd. "Skagos will no longer be ruled by fear. We will show Thrain that his terror cannot last, that the North remembers its own strength."
Cheers erupted, a roar of defiance that echoed across the rugged landscape. Among the crowd, even those who had harbored doubts felt their spirits lifted, rallying around Jon with newfound hope. The Stark banner fluttered in the breeze, a symbol of a coming storm—and Jon was prepared to lead it straight to Thrain's door.
Author's Note:
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