Fire, Ice, and the Kraken (Fate X ASOIAF, Jalter quest)

Few days before the Volantene Revolt

Right at the end of this scene

"I promised your Maester to take you to Castle Black and no further", Osha marches off to the makeshift tent as Jojen and Bran stew in awkward silence.

Hodor stirs a bit in surprise before outright panicking. He gasps before he shouts "Hodor!" and runs towards the tent, pushing Osha away. Under the tent, Rickon Stark convulses violently, accompanied by the sound of his gurgling getting louder and louder.

Bran stares perplexedly as his face turns into a rictus of worry and concern. Jojen and Meera run towards Rickon to subdue his convulsing form.

Hodor grabs hold of Rickon's shoulders and pushes it down to prevent further shaking while Jojen holds the young lord's legs down as Meera puts a band in the kid's mouth.

Osha gets out her daze from being pushed down and looks at Rickon with worry, "what's wrong with him? Is he 'avin one 'em visions too!?"

Jojen replies, "Yes, Green Dreams can take a toll on a person."

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"Who're you?" A figure looks back at him, too far for him to discern any specific detail, all that Rickon sees are the stars below that figure and the bright sky.

It walks to him, creating ripples on the image of stars and a bright white light slowly forms behind it. A feminine voice speaks, echoing, " I'm Abigail" the figure says soothingly yet the echoes sound thunderous to Rickon's ear. There's a stillness after that as the Little Wolf trembles at the sudden volume. His head throbs mightily like someone's put their hands on his ears and begins to squeeze his head. "It's rude to not introduce yourself after I've given you my name."

Rickon closes his fists petulantly, but a strange compulsion forces him to respond. "Well, I'm Rickon...Rickon Stark!"

"Nice to meet you Rickon", the figure gets close enough for Rickon to see her features. Golden hair hangs down to her knee, her bright blue eyes and small nose makes her quite pretty in Rickon's eyes, but her many blue and yellow bows weird him out. She extends a hand to him, the small limb sneaking out of her very long sleeves. Rickon grasps the hand, so smooth and small, smaller than his own hands, and shakes it.

She smiles delicately, and Rickon hesitates before smiling back. "May I ask where you're going?" She says.

Rickon responds as if it was a natural thing to do, "We're going North of the Wall!" He says excitedly. "There's someone Bran has to meet so he can kill the White Walkers."

"Can't say I've ever heard of a White Walker."

"Well...uhm... Old Nan says that the White Walkers brought the long night. She says that the night lasted for years and years. That they brought spiders as big as hounds and made the snow a hundred feet deep in the North."

There's a hint of a smile on the girl's face, "And do you believe her?" Rickon nods. "That's a fascinating tale I must say..."

Rickon nods again, not understanding what she's saying or where she's going with this, "Yeah, and Bran is gonna stop them, so the White Walkers don't freeze the north and the Seven Kingdoms."

Abigail chuckles a bit, "Whether the world ends in Ice or Fire, they drown all the same. The ice either melts or grows, but water still kills."

There's a pause after that before Abigail breaks it.

"Sorry, Tangent..." She breathes deeply, "Well, since you were so kind enough to share me something, I think it's fair if I share back. Do you have questions specifically?"

"Where are we?"

"Well...we're in your dreams Rickon. I'm sure it's obvious." She answers coyly.

The young lord looks frustrated at her deflection. "Where. Are.We? " He asks petulantly.

Abigail seems amused by his theatrics and feigns a sigh, "Fine, but you won't get it." Abigail tenses up and sweeps her hand to the sight behind her" You stand at the gate, little wolf, the gateway between this world and the other."

Rickon tilts his head and gives Abigail a blank stare.

"What do you mean other worlds? "

"Exactly that, there are other worlds with their own Essos and Westeros, their own Faith of the Seven, and their own Great Wall. I just happen to be the key for the gate between them. " Abigail cups her chin in deep thought and murmurs so softly that Rickon could barely make out her words, "though if I did open it..."

There's something about the girl that seems almost mystical to Rickon like she's more than what he sees. Though what she says confuses him greatly and he stares blankly at her, tilting his head.

"Tch, I knew a kid like you wouldn't get it, why did I even bother," Her face scrunches up in frustration, marring her silky white face. "Maybe if I showed rather than tell..."

The girl gets uncomfortably close to Rickon, their noses almost touching, "Look at me" she says. He does, and he sees something pop out of her rather big forehead. At first, he thought that it was a keyhole-shaped tattoo before an Eye appears, shocking him. The eye flashes a malignant purple light as it saturates his vision.




P͖̤̪̪̑̉͌ͮͭ͊͆ͩ̊ͦͯ̓͂̂̋́̀͘͘e̷̻͍͎͉̩̟̣̫̝ͣͭ̂̀ͥ̊͋̂̓̔͡͝e̩̩̮͉̩̹̥̥̓͋͑̌́́l̳̲̞͓̠͇̮̠͓͈͔̱̠̖͓͔̰̮ͤ̇̈́̋̏ͭ̽ͮ̌͜ ̷̢̨̨͉͚̬̳̗͕̝̘͔̞̫̘͇̒͌̋ͯ͌̒́͟t̷̛͙̞̺͍̬̖̗̳̪̽̈́̊̽̈̐ͬͬ̈́̌ͭͨ̔̈́ͭ̅h͚̳͉̞̝̩̯̗̹̭̰̹̫̤̓̽́͒́̕͟͟͡e̶̡͍͎̣̥͎͇͈̼̙̰̯͓̫͖͚̠̙̠͋͆̔̿͢͞͠ ̵̵̛̼̫̠͇̫̦̝͇͇̰̫̠̎̊ͭ̔͊͛͊̿̌͐͋͗ͬͧQ̥̥̪̼͉̞̩̺̹̗͔̪̗̤̬͇̽̍͆ͫ̒̃̒ͯ̑̽̒̀͢͞ḷ̨͚̤̯͈̟͓͙͚̦̠̲̪̹͚̍̈ͧ̇̾͋̿̈́͊̿ͯͥ͗̽͛͒̂͡ͅỉ̧͓̜̗̻̜̰̦͍̠̪̱̂̓̇̿͗͌ͥ̒ͯͮͧ̕͠p̵̧̼̰̬̟̬͇ͬͬ̆ͫ̐̈̿̃̓͗̌ͦo̴͐ͦͪ̐ͬ̋ͣ̉͑͐ͬ͊ͧͪ̾͌͑͡͝͏̭̙̝͖͎̣̥̜͔̥͎̗̩̘̹̠̳͢t̸̢͙͈̦̦̥͑ͣ̓̆̾̈̏̆ͦ̓ͧ̑̀̚h̷̷̢̧͚̝͕̼̤̼̦̲̦̲̻̹̥̣̽̓ͫ̓̒ͧ͑ͩ̓̌͐͐͐̎ͩ͝,̵̗͉̠͙̩̘̺̪ͤ̀ͬ̈́ͦ̓ͫ͝ͅ ̴̴̧̛͇̟͈̜̘͇͚̣̼͉̋͌̈́̾ͧͪ̏͛̒̔̀ͤ̄͆͐̐͝ā̵̧̫̱͓͙̬̣͈̜̮̜̤͕̠̲̀̿ͤ̊ͪ̾̆̿ͩ̌̈́͆̓̾̎ͧ̽͡n̡̩̲̠̳̱̲̮̠͉̐ͣ̓ͨ͘͢ͅḋ͍̰͓̺̜͓͔͂̿ͯͯ͂͗ͯͫ͋̽ͦ̀̔ͣ̏̍́͡ͅ ̷̡̘̹͍͖̣͎̹̺̳͓̣͕̿̅ͮͣ̉ͥ̈ͥͧ͠͡͞u̠͕̗̳̱̖͖̞̘͕̲͕̳̠̫͉ͤ͑ͯ̈́̉͆̔̊͊̇̌̌̚̚̕ņ̷̶͚̖͚̲̖̻̫̦̱̭̙͓̠̘͔͔̟͐͊ͪ̀̏̈́͊l̨̞̟͓̱̹̤̟̬̱̮̭̺̋̏̅̃̄͌̊͊ͪͤͥ̾̉̇ͦ̚͘͝ö̸̴̬͈̙̫̰͍̼̻̙̹̹̰̯̲͔̯̜͍̑ͧ̒ͧͦ͑͋̈́̋̎͜͞͝ͅc̶̴̢̛͓̺̙̜̱̟̝͙͔͇͉̭̣̜̜̔̂̍ͤ̿ͨ̂͑̓k̷̭͕͔̘̼͚̘͌̊̃̂̓͑̾́͌͆ͮ̅͌ͧ͗͘͡ ̨̧͌͆ͯ̔́̚҉̠̺͉̞̟͉̻͓͍̤͚̺̩̦t̡̡͚̬̰̯̫̻̺̼̫̭̥̟͚̫̩̳͋ͯ̚h̛̠͍̣̺͓̠̮̮͎͍͈̜͓̱̝̅̋̊̂͌ͦ̐̇́ȩ̴͔͖̘̙͎ͦ͆̉͌̀͞ͅͅ ̝͔͓̪̼͙̝̹͓̫͕̪͎ͭͥ̅͒̈ͧͥ̒̽ͩ̐̀ͮͫ͒ͦͩ́͟ͅf̛̛̛̭̣̫̹̬͖̝̳̖̹̣̣͚̑̐̉͊̿ͫ̓̄̇̔̐͆ͯ̉̓ͬ̀ͫ̀͝į̷̻͕͍̣̰̗͔̦͖̭̙ͮ̏̍͗͗ͣ̌ͫ͑̔́͑ͦ̃̌̇ͩ͟͢͝n̸̜͖̙̝ͭͤ̋͑ͫͨ̐ͭͯ̆͟͟ă̢̛̻̩͍̜̗ͥ̒ͯ̅͐͆̃l̶ͩ̊̇ͬ̾̔ͩ͢͡҉̲̦̬̝̝̹͎̼͖̠ͅ ̸̯̖̪͖̟̘̪͙̤̤̪̹̹̒ͦ̑̔͋̌ͨͮ́ͪ͂͌́͟͠g̨͒̽ͬͭ̽̿̐ͣ̋ͧ͏̵̭̗͇̭̳͉̟̱͚͎͙̘̲̼͖͟ͅa̴̴͆ͤ̂͒͑ͤ͂̽̇ͬͮ̊̃ͦ̅͟҉̭̥̮̥̦̝͕͉̠̹̲͍͔̦̦̭́t̸̷̢̡̘͔͉̼̳̪̰̣͍͖̯ͭͤ̊͐̏̑̆̾͊̅͐̓̍̓ͨ̄ͤe͕̥̞̲͉̱̣̬̰͎͕̐ͣ͋̉̎ͦ̐̓̋̇̀ͯ̊̀͢͝.̰̣͍͙͖̦̟̩͓̖̤͔̮͔̠͎͂ͦ͛ͫ̆̇ͯ̍̂̀̃̓̒̓ͪ̒ͭ̚͘͜͟͡ͅ ̵̞̩͔̩͉̮̗̟̐ͭ̊̆͋̾̓̽̊͢͡O̵ͦ̃̑͑͆̒͂̂͋͒ͣͤ̽ͨ̋ͪ̈̿̾͟͏̠̘̫͉̖̻̗̘̝͔̼͈̲̲̼̦͈̹̀h̷̶̡̛̹̭͕͕̪̤͙̬̜̟̲̑͒ͭ̋̾̂̎͆ͥ͝,̸̛̺̮̹̝̟͓̰̳͙̪͍̝͎̻̬̘̟̻ͬ͛̓ͯ͋̐̓ͨ́ͧ̅̋̾ͨ́ͧ͘͡ ̡͖̦͕͙̥̪̖͍͍͂͗̈́̍ͬ̃͂̓̆͆̾ͨͣ̀͠S̛̻̭͓̝̙͕̺̘̫͓̘̫͍̬̹͎͓͚̓͂̔ͨͧ͗ͥ̍͌̌̃́ͫ̐̆̚ͅì̵̴̧̡̞͚̦͙̬̱̪͔͕̝̭̻̪͕͉̄̅͑͐̇̂͡l̨̳̘͎̙͉̭̮̰̞̣͉̗̀͑ͭ̔ͦ̐ͯ͊ͨ͌ͨ̄ͭͅv̧̢̭͕̗̹͈̰̗̀̅ͥͨ̾̆̆̓͛̌̅ͫͬ̓͊̆͝e͐̐ͩͩ͊́ͭ͋ͤ̒͗̅̿͏̛̛̮̲̮̩̻̖͕͍̺̹̥̜̞̜͎̤̖̬r͒̇̾̊̀̔ͪ́͏̖̙̫̪͔̪̺̪̜͍̞̹ ̶̵͚̬͚̦̲͔̙̤͖̭̳̘̹͇͓̮̟͊̆̌̓̿ͤ̉ͪ̚ͅḰ̊̑̌̀͢҉̴҉̩̱͎̕ͅe̡̼̤͍͙͎͈͚̟̙͈͇̣̗̫̲̖̞̹̐̾͐͛̍ͫ̐͋͠ͅỳ̵̭͙̞̮̖̙̟͇͎̣͚̃̊ͫ̐̎̅̎̀͟͝,̶̃ͣ͆̏̄ͪͭ͌̒̓̔͒͗̃̄͛ͨ͝҉̖͙̜̗̯̣̣͎ ̢̺̞̝͈͙̼̘̲̬͔̾͑ͬ̏̔̔̇͌̃ͣ̽͐̌̆̚S̢̬̻̤̘͈̭̥̭͔̺̦͍̪̝͇̊ͥ̔̍͒̑̾ͤ̋̉̋̚͞ḭ̶̴̭͍̰̱̦̱̜͎̘̳͔̯̰̆̌̄͞͝ͅlͦ̅̒̓ͧ̿̆͋̃͌͆̇ͥ͒̎͏̴̙̹̱͕̬͘͜͞vͦ̌̋ͦͯ̿̉̽̾̄̆̓ͣ̑̎̓ͧ̓̆̀͡͏͏̣̼̮̟̰̖͓̖͞ͅͅe̴͓̪̦̝͚͇͔̱̫̜̯̣̯̦̹͙͕̥ͯ͂̏͒̈́̈̓͌͜ͅr̵̻̜̘̗̋̾̃̿̀ͭͣ̎̐̿̈̈́̑̄̕͜͝ͅ ̷̵̗̜̻̖͓͂ͤ̈̓̅ͧ̕̕ͅG̴̖͓̥̦̦̗̪͚̦̮̳̮̩̮̤̹̘͋̃̅̓̐́̑̉̐̉͋͛͛̌̉ͩ͐͜͜a͑̄ͮ̓̔̅̉̂ͨ̇́̓ͧ̚҉̶͞͏̰̖̘̰̬͓̺̮̭̺̭̮̗̪̘̗͚ͅt͙̳͎̤͍͈͕̃ͯ̄̓̄ͬ͗̃͒̊ͯ̂̀͞e̥̣̱̘̻͑ͮͪ̉̍͌ͨ̅͡,̵̛̽ͦ̎̂ͨͦ̆̅̒̐͗̉̋̍ͤͯ҉̸̳͓͓̹̬̝̝̠̠͉̤̬̺ ͗̊͒ͮ̓̾͌̔ͧ̑ͭ̋ͣ̉̾̓̊͏̷̗̥̗̗͔̼̱S̨͍̭̤̲͕͉̘̝̼̝̰̻̜̠̞̈́̍ͪ́͋ȋ̛͕̞͓̪̲̗̠͓̺̪͚͔̥̦̰̐̈ͫ̈̍̐ͯͤ́ͅͅl̒͒ͨ̿́҉̣͕̞̩͖̩̠̠͍͡vͭͥͮͥ̌̇ͥ̍̂̑̔͂͟͏̺̳̱̬̼͚͇͖̳̭͎͚͓̮͉̥e͂̅̂͗ͭͫ̒̎̋҉̸͙̱͚͚̰̤͈̘̳̩͘͘r̷̡̧͉̝̘̻̭͙͓̣͙̤͍̰͓̺͐̈́̅ͩ͂̚͢ ̢̳̣̪̞̦̜̰̰͑́̈͂̋̔ͩ̓͛͢͟͜G̛̣͕̫͖̠̜̝͎̖̰̼̣͖̬̲͉͗͛̄͊̀ͥ̓̓̏̀ú͚͎̲̤̻͓̭̼̠͉̳̬̤̥̇̿ͤ̋̋͆͛̃̓̑ͣ́ͩ͗̚͘a̛̛̦̞̹̹̻̤̬̹̪̮̦̗̱̬̻͛͌̽̿̍͑ͬ̓ͦ̓͊͒̓̄̀r̵̛̛̤̱̲͓͍͔̱̘̥̹̺͉̼̦̦̦̠̓̆̔͌ͭ̔̎ͥ͋͠d̴̟͕̦̣̳͈͒͆̂̓͟͠͝i̡̭̳͓̳͍̞͇̗͖͖̟̦̞͉̥͔̊̑̔̆͌̽̇ͯ͆̾ͪͩͯͮ͑ͧ̚͘͜͠͞a͕̟͉̗̰͇̘͈̗̜̖̹̻̦̎ͨͯͥ͗̓́ͨͮ̍͆͑ͥ͋̾̚͟͟ͅn̢̢̛̩͕̯͔̞͙͖͖͉̯̯̾͌͒̈́ͫ̚͢͠.̧̙̯͇̜̒͊̒̅̒͊̍̒͌̓ͪ͘͟͜ ̷̯̳͎͖͙̰̌̎ͧ͌̓̍͑̓̃̎ͧ̔̌̂͑ͯ̂́́Ó̧̽̈́͂̌̐ͣͧͯ͐́̚҉̘͎͔̪͍͚̖̘̥͕̙̯̖̻̠͚̳P̵̅̂ͨ̓̍́̌͋͘͏͍̹̗̺̟̕͜E͑̐͌ͩͧ̌̎̾ͪͦ͏̶͚͚̜͍̱͎̩̟͍N̨̦͙̗̮̪̩̮͎̯͔̪̱̱͍̗͋̽̒̀ͫ͂͆̀
̶̵̻̠͖͔̑̂̀̊̎͒̎ͭ͛̿̌̀͊ͩ̕ͅͅȮ̸̢̱̭͓̩͖̥̭̣̎̇͑̐̿͑̇ͪ͛̏̒ͅṖ̹͚̠̳̙̰͚̪͚̼̳̘̫̖͚̙̺̫̝͐ͨ͌̅ͬ́̕͟Ȩ͍̻͈̪̟͈̘̞̟̠̹̦͓̻̮͓̿ͣͨ̑̎̀̚͜ͅN̵̤̱̜͚̍̇͋̎́̏͡O̴̯̲̰̰͚̙̩̺͕̖̰̲̩̠̭̥̬ͮ̒̎ͩ̑̓͗̎ͤ͗̎̅̌ͣͥͯ́͟͟͠ͅͅP̵̶͖͓̺̫͉̙̙̅͒́̏͑̅̿̑ͥͨ͊̌͞Ĕ̤̞̱͈̞̹͚͔̱͙̦̗ͩ͐̈́͐̾͒ͦ̐ͮ̉ͯ̓̿͑̐̌̚̕͡N͑͌̿̊̓̒҉̸͎̲̼̩͙͔͓͕̮͉̺̫̹̰͇̺͠Ŏ͇͍̥͈̜͙̦̺̤̼̹̻̪̬͋̓́̌̍͛̉͂ͯ̅ͤ͞P̵̸͋̔̀͛ͣ̎̋̔̂ͪ̄ͫ̏ͪͭ̾͢͏̤̻̻͚̙͖̬̠̱͈͍̱̦̲̫̹̩E̢̨̡̫͉̅͊͛̓̋̾ͅÑ̩̟̩̺̯̦͕̮̫̔ͥ̌̓ͧͬ̈́̔͆̀͜͟ͅO̵̯̤̙͚̭̗̻̠̮̮̐̆̿͗̇̐̽ͧ́̀͡P̸̴̙̣̤̰̣̦̗̙̱̼̮̯̬̙̰͎͐̔̎ͫͣ̑͂̽͌͋ͩ͋͐ͦ͆͘ͅͅE͒͆͐ͤ̃̿̂̾ͮ̿̐ͣ̓ͥ̿̚͏̵̻͎̙͕̝͘͟N̵̺̤̝̻̝̞̮͈̎̄̏̔̅́͛̋͒̀͟Ǫ̢̻̤̱̰͈͙̖̣̦̯̼̟̰̞̟̆̍̿̉͊̐͊̄̊̏͒ͣͧ̔̿ͬ͞͞P̨͚̥̬͇͉̘͓͈̼͎̱̙̹͉͚̘̳̖ͩͨ͊̽͗̕͟͠͠E̷ͧͬ̍ͥ̓ͩ͋͋́̌ͪ͏̳̳̥̻̗̼̱͚͜ͅN̵̖͍̖̱̪̎̓̂ͥ̉͗̈́ͩ̾̆ͩ̋͛͐̔̏͒̿̋͞O̧̜̹͚͉̩ͤ̌ͤ̽̓͢ͅͅP̸̤̤͉͓̜̰͚̝̒͑̃̌͒ͪ͐͊ͨ̓ͯͮ̓̂ͫ̆̑͡Eͭͫͧ̈́͊̈ͯͯ̍̃ͩ̒͏̷͓̬̮̳̤̜̜̟͇̩͓̻̝͉͉̫̺͝ͅN̸̡͇͉̺̗̞̻̤̙͈̮̫̥͖̥̝ͧͩ̍ͅO̴̷̡̥̫̠̖̘̯̝̟̫̲͈̭̬͖̙̮̟̞ͧ̔͗ͮ͑̃͐̑̆̆ͫ͒̾̏̑ͪ̍̚̚ͅP̧̳͙̖̙̫͖͖̙̙̣̱̮͖̫͒̔̏͆̈́͌̆̎̄͐̈̏ͥͪͩͩ͊ͯ̀̕E̾ͫ̏̅ͤͯ̒̍̽͗̂ͧ͑̑ͩ͗̌͝҉͖̼̤̜̰̠͚̪̀N̛̮̫̤͈̘̖͎̣͕͔̘̻͎͍̻̞̖̙ͥͯ́̚͞Ő͍͖̮̬̭̤̩̞͎͙̰͑̃̽ͫ͢͜͞Pͣͨͥͦͫ͑̇ͤ͂͐̎͌̔͗̔̀͢҉̝̼̥̘̬̱̰̠̙̦͝E̷͒ͭ̾̂ͭ̀̈́͛ͪ̔͑ͯ̎ͩ̄҉̖̞̝̝̝̙͙̯͚͍̜̰̠̞͖̥̮̤͇͝Ņ̶̳̳̱ͭ̽͋̋̓̃ͩͬͪ͋̔̆ͫͩ̑ͮ͝O̡̜̝̣̝̤̬̅ͬ̔̈́̔͐̔̃̏̃ͭͦͧ͛̐P̯̦̹̭̻̖̻̄͊̽̀̌ͨ̚̕͠͞Ȩ̜̖͎͖̙͉͖͚͋̀̍͋̽ͮ̈ͥ̍̈͢N̴̝̞̭̬̣͓̥ͪ̽ͧͣ͌̀ͮͬͧͩ̏͐͑̅̆͒̈͟Ỏ̧̝͍̩̻̯̖̬̩̤̙̌̌̋͂ͮ̈́̑͋̅̐ͬ̀͞͝P̶ͨ͐͊̏̋͊̽ͣ̂͜͏̮̜̘̼̟̩̻̟̜͉̭͇̙͙̮͈̀͟Ę͎͎̙͓͉̹̼͕̯͇̼͓̹̦̺̭̭̜͚͂̌̈́͆ͪ͆͘Ň̵̊ͭ͆̐̋̈̇̒̀̐͗͡҉̣̫̦̦̟̜͔̦̗̳̩̣




Rickon looks on transfixed, there a banging in his head now but he can't turn away. Images appear before him, visions of towering buildings, giant white ships, and a huge mushroom cloud. The vision changes again, but he can't discern them all. There's a sharp stinging pain in his head like someone was trying to force a hot rod into his head. Eventually he succumbs to the bright light.

He hears a faint voice, "I'll observe your journey with interest..."

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"RICKON! RICKON!"

"HO-HODOR"

The shaking stops as Rickon Stark slowly open his eyes. Shaggydog whimpers in worry for the young lord beside it.

Jojen urgently asks, "What did you see!"

"Oh give the black magic shit a break, can't you wait till he's ok!" Osha shouts indignantly.

"I saw her!" Rickon says with laboured breath. "I think I saw the three-eyed Raven, Bran!"

Both Jojen and Bran's eyes widen at that. How!?! "What did it look like in your dreams?!" Jojen asks.

"A three-eyed raven obviously you fuck-wit" Now Osha's just being insufferable now. Meera gives her a hardened stare.

"It was a girl. A pretty girl!"

Osha groans, "The little boy was just dreaming about girls--"

"Osha! Just Stop! Please!" Bran demands. And Osha backs off.

"The girl had gold hair!" Rickon's voice slowly calms down into a suitable volume, " she had blue eyes, but she was wearing this weird dress. "

"What did the girl say?" Jojen asks brimming with curiosity.

"She said...uhh...that I was dreaming, but she was lying because I never have seen that in my dreams."

"Seen what?"

"Stars, and a lot of swirly things, I felt like I was floating and looking at bright lights everywhere. There was this white sky too!"

"What did this girl say," Bran asks, slowly losing his patience.

Rickon speaks a mile a minute as he gathers his thoughts, "She said that I was in the Gate...Gateway! Gateway between uhh worlds! And that she was the key. uhmm...Before she only had two eyes, but then another popped out of her big forehead! Then it went all flashy, and I saw stuff, and then I woke up!"

"What stuff?" This time its Jojen that asks.

"There were glass towers that were sooo tall, and clouds coming from the ground up, and also I was under the sea. Or at least I think I was under the sea, do seas have stars?"

"No, they don't Rickon." Bran answers.

"Well, I saw this monster with huge blobs and tentacles, and they were looking at me, and then I peed a little."

Bran and Jojen stew in shock whilst everyone else stares in confusion.

Bran wonders if there's another being like the three-eyed raven and if it has plans for Rickon...

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Present

The sun rises to its zenith, as light seeps into the windows of Nobunaga's study.

The conquerer's hat, and ornament-filled cape hangs on a stand right beside her desk, which itself is composed of sturdy mahogany, acquired from Yi Ti's lush jungles. Her katana lays squarely on the top-left corner of her desk, as it gives off a golden sheen under the risen sun.

Nobunaga is sat down on a quaint wooden chair, busying herself with the shuffling and signing of scrolls. The day to day work of empire-building. Her hair is unkempt as it falls messily to her feet. Not once has she showered since the crack of dawn.

She moves on to a specific scroll and smiles. The parchment speaks of the successful assimilation of the native Bayasabhad city. It's been some months since she's annexed that particular successor state of Hyrkoon, which had been a messy business. An army of fanatical warrior women is an army that will seldom rout unless more thorough measures were taken. Fortunately, Nobunaga had been nothing but thorough during the whole affair.

But that was then, now the city's more peaceful. The Demon Emperor had employed a policy of integration in her corner of Yi Ti ever since the annexation. Laws were rewritten, and the military was reformed, but the most drastic change of all was the improved economy. Nobunaga had sent merchants looking for new markets and cheaper labour to the conquered city, now with less trade restriction under Nobunaga's rule they flourished. Naturally, she faced opposition borne from millennia of antagonism, but that matter was dealt with thoroughly. Thus, innovation and enterprise were brought to Bayasabhad, and that had begun to yield many benefits.

The contents of the scroll before her informs Nobunaga of one of those benefits. The newfound prosperity had bettered her people's relations with the warrior women. Thus, said women from that fortress city will be integrated into the local garrison by the month's end.

The scroll also notes how far the scholars are progressing in their attempts to educate the people. The newly founded schools have seen many students attend, and there's an increase in literacy rate among the native population. Though it is still too early to conclusively state the general effectiveness of such an attempt at the moment.

The scroll also notes of some setbacks that the scholars have faced. Most particularly their failure to remove ritualised gelding from the city. It's a cultural practice that had existed since the city's founding, so it's expected that such a practice will not be removed overnight. But the speed in which the tradition is being removed is much too slow for Nobunaga. She has plans for the city, big plans, and all of them requires the city to grow magnificently and fast. Presently, the involuntary castration of children severely hinders the city's ability to grow; thus it needs to be removed.

She writes a note to strengthen the garrison of Bayasabhad and new orders for the governor there. Ritualised gelding must be gone by the end of the month, even if it requires a repeat of Nagashima.

She knows the pacified warrior women shouldn't be too much of an issue to the removal of such a practice, in fact, they openly accept it. No, it's these "Great Fathers" of the city that will be an obstacle to her. So used to being on the top of this weird mosh-pit of Patriarchy and Matriarchy, they will inevitably resist. Nobunaga contemplates on ways to purge the city of them without rousing too much dissent.

"What would Okita do..."

She shakes her head and moves on to another scroll. She'll spend more time pondering a bit on the issue.

She picks up another scroll and smiles at the blueprint attached to it. The Yi Tish architects have followed her instructions to the letter it seems. The designs for a mountain outpost for the Bones looks to be very promising. "The men are ready to build it on the areas surrounding the Sand Road," the text at the bottom says. "It'll take three to four months to build one, the materials for such an undertaking are....", Nobunaga skims through the list and reaches for an empty scroll.


On it, she writes, "To the ever so capable Feng Guo, I permit the construction of ten of these outposts around the Sand Road. They will be manned by elements of An He's division once the situation in Bayasabhad stabilises. Make sure to pick An He's best men to guard the mountain outposts, if he makes any noise about it, tell him it's under my authority. Go, Feng Guo, go and take the first step to spread our glory to the west." And with that, Nobunaga stamps her seal on it. She puts the letter on the "To Send" box placed near her katana. Hopefully later today, a servant will pick it up and give it to the eunuch assigned to this estate where he will send the letters by way of eagle.

She moves on to another group of scrolls and skims them one by one. One scroll from Nobunaga's spymaster speaks of the sacking of the slaver city of Astapor, and how the slave army there now follows one 'Daenerys Targaryean'. The letter speculates that Mereen will be her next target in the coming months, if not weeks. 'Good', Nobunaga thinks, slavery is such a waste of human resources, about time these cities stop practicing it. One day, once she heads west, she would like to meet this "Breaker of Chains" in person and offer her an administerial position for the region after she conquers the area. But for now, Nobunaga just has to be satisfied with sending letters. For now.

Hmmm, So her whole deal is on freeing slaves...Nobunaga bites her ink brush in contemplation. What if she sends her the Declaration of Human rights, that'd be interesting...Though the issue is, is that Nobunaga can't really remember any of it. In all honesty, she wasn't really paying attention to Gudako's lecture on it during their time in the Camelot singularity. How did that even pop up during the conversation?

Hm, guess she'll just write a letter of goodwill, that would do for now. "To the Breaker of Chains, Daenerys Targaryen..."

She finishes writing the letter and moves on to the next report, this time it's one written by her Marshal. It speaks off whispers from the Mountains of Morn, of a beastly army being assembled in Carcosa. That the army is composed of half men and cannibals and is lead by the Sorcerer himself. Hmm, well, if the Yellow Emperor wishes to contest his stake on the crown with his abominations, she welcomes him to try. She hopes that he's used to disappointment though, monsters don't do so well against muskets, she's seen. Especially the big ones.

There's also mentions of trouble in the Five Forts. Something to do with a mass westward migration of Shrikes, whatever that is.

She shrugs and moves on to read the report from one of the local commanders assigned to the Zhī jiān province, located southeast of Trader Town (Gosh she really has to rename her temporary capital city someday). "There is a clear esprit de corps among the peasant soldiers. We have trained them day in and day out and they have not disappointed us. I must say, Your Imperial Majesty, that your suggestion to put these peasants into specific units is ingenious. They have formed close bonds with one another and have encouraged growth and discipline within the ranks. In a few short months, they have become as skilled and disciplined as the Dawnguards of the Five Forts. The peasant soldiers have gained the respect of the professionals here too, and more and more village boys are flocking to the recruitment centres, willing to fight for our most just causes. You will have three thousand new soldiers by this week's end, that I can assure you."

This puts a bright grin to the former Daimyo as she writes the plans to expand this program on a blank parchment. Once she finishes, she puts it into the "To Send" box, and moves on to another scroll. Her reading is interrupted by a loud knocking at her study room door.

"Come in!" She shouts.

A man in silk robes enters, sweating profusely with a horror-stricken expression. "Imperial Majesty," He speaks shakingly "forgive this one's misconduct, but I have received grievous news from the North!"

Jeez, grievous news or not, she wished he had used his inside voice.

"Speak"

"Your generals garrisoned northwards say that your plan to assimilate the Jogos Nhai is working very well, too well in fact. They have united under a single King and are marching south to fight their common enemy, us. The Generals have retreated and have lost their territorial gains in the plains as a result. They do not want to repeat Emperor Lo Bu's mistake and have consolidated their forces fifteen leagues north this city. Back to where they had started in this campaign."

Close, too close, She had hoped her ceasefire with the Southern Princes would give her breathing room to strengthen her army and her realm. But now she has to contend with these Mongol wannabes. No matter, she'll end the Jogos Nhai here and now and come back to Trader Town a victor. Maybe she'll emulate Ceasar's way of celebrating victory too, her few encounters with him in Chaldea has taught her that there's nothing like good Triumph after winning a major battle.

"How many of these Zorse riders are coming down south?" Nobunaga inquires.

"The scouts estimate at least five hundred thousand or more."

Nobunaga inhales deeply, sighing. Half a million, what a number. "How goes the Weapons Development Division's progress in the Shrinking Sea?"

"The bronze cannons are still in the testing period your Imperial Majesty, but they have been successful in firing, just not during battlefield conditions."

"Good, they'll get to test them by this month's end, if the Jogos Nhai marches south faster than expected."

This reeks of Nagashino to Nobunaga, only this time its savage zorsemen rather than the esteemed Takeda cavalry.

"You can't mean--"

"Yes, I'm bringing those cannons with me to battle. Its time to see if these scholars are worth the gold I'm paying them. Now go, servant, tell my royal division to mobilise, their Emperor marches north."

QM Note: The chess pieces are ever so slowly getting together. Also oof, this post required a lot of reading on my part.

[X] Go straight ahead to Bridgeton, you only need to pacify the rebels.
--[X] Keep an eye out for a rebel leader. Mobs almost always fall apart after killing the leader.
--[X] check on Lera before leaving
--[X] Take one of Araquo's men to help you translate. (if there are any that could speak your language, requires rolling)
[X] Angry, both at those who did it and at you for letting it happen

You spot one of the Guards run towards you two, wading through the dead bodies. You wonder how the clean up will look like. "My lords," the guard says when he arrives, you grimace a bit at the way he addresses you, "The battle is won sir, the bridge is ours. Now all that is left is killing the ones hiding here like rats." Araquo nods at that, smiling a bit. "We also had reports that some of the men searching in the buildings have mainly found merchants and freedmen; they have not encountered any rebels, yet."

You choose this time to speak, "What of the wounded? The casualties?"

"Out of 700 men, 20 died, and 30 were wounded. Amazing numbers considering the volume of the rebel force."

"And what of Lera, the girl that was with me?"

"She has suffered major wounds and is being taken care of in the newly established encampment."

Damn, damn damn damn. You had thought Lera at least had some safety due to her proximity with the guards, but you guess they were just too incompetent. Araquo looks at you worriedly; you must be making a grave expression.

It looks like the situation has changed, you were hoping Lera would come with you to establish order since you didn't know the language. But now, madness, just madness.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid! You shouldn't have rushed into the mob like that; instead, you should've at least been near her. Now you've got your only help to communicate with the common Volantenes gone. What the hell were you thinking to bring her into a battle after her first training session? She could be dying for all you know now, because of your recklessness.

Araquo steps back in fear as you blur, moving as fast as your material body can, pushing it to the limit. You leap past the dead guardsmen and slaughtered rebels, the wind at your face in full force. You ignore it and run. The buildings and the bodies begin to distort as you go faster and faster.

You don't how long you've been dashing towards the other end of the bridge, seconds? Minutes maybe? Whichever the case, you arrive and is treated with the sight of hastily made tents, each filled to the brim with casualties. You hear the screaming of men being amputated, the wailing of the heavily wounded, and the groans of everyone else. The air gives off the smell of fresh blood, and burnt wood made even worse by the hot summer sun.

The encampment is located on the centre of one of the Long Bridge's many plazas, with the ransacked shops and taverns becoming the shelter of the resting uninjured soldiers. At the edges of the small encampment are the bodies of the dead put into a neat row and covered by sheets of cloth. Several men kneel there, honouring their comrades, trained men who were given the ill fate of not being able to die gloriously.

You pull one of the guardsmen towards you, a seemingly uninjured tan man, "Where is Lera?!" you question. He looks at you startled before he stutters out a response.

"Vhere izzz- Lera?" Tch, of course he wouldn't understand, the hell's with you today you idiot! You're in Volantis! Not some English town!

Guess you have to find her the hard way, you dash from tent to tent, shoving men away. There's an increase in chatter between the soldiers as they see you push their fellow comrades away. Your actions seem to be creating a sort of disruption.

It doesn't last long as you find Lera's tent in mere moments, her unarmoured form laid neatly on the bed, which is placed between two other beds. You're relieved to see the rising and falling of her chest, indicating that she's at least not dead. You walk up to her bedside and crouch down, as your eyes scrutinized her body for any kind of injury. You notice her breath is haggard.

"You won't find any visible wounds on the girl" A woman's voice pops out behind you, "It is the wounds inside that you need to worry about." You look back to see a woman dressed in red garbs. Her lips small and her eyes too. Her expression is solemn, complemented by her gaunt face. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought this woman to be Chinese or Japanese. But, well... you do know better, and you assume this woman must be from this mythical land of Yi Ti that Lera has been telling you about, if not of origin, then of descent.

"How is her condition?"

"Her ribs are broken, in pieces. She has sustained many a blunt hit, which is a miracle that she was able to survive. She'll live, but she'll need rest, she won't be very active for some time. I've given her an essence of Nightshade and the Milk of the Poppy, so the pain won't disturb her sleep."

You nod at that, looking back at Lera. She won't be strong enough to train for weeks or months it seems, You're going to have to take care of her more so she can help you for the coming journey. You guess you can be thankful at least that she wasn't so useless as to die outright, that would've been very stupid of her. And no, you're not grinning in relief.

"Thank you, healer. For watching over her, it would not do to have my servant die in her first battle."

"Do not thank me, Wanderer, thank the Lord of Light for giving me the ability to heal this innocent soul."

You grimace. This woman must be one of those religious fanatics from the Red Temple. How disgusting, you hope her false god hasn't done anything to Lera, or you'll kill it and its followers too. If they love fire so much, then you're happy to help acquaint them with each other. These blind scum, deserving of only contempt and ridicule, you'll kill every last one of them if what she says is a lie and Lera doesn't make it. You breathe, now is not the time to be burning the ignorant, there's a revolt to stop.

You take one last look at Lera before proceeding to walk out of the tent without saying a word. The Red Priestess stops you by barring your way with an outstretched hand. It takes all of your restraint to just cut it off with St.Catherine.

"Your origin and purpose are murky when I peer into the flames oh burnt one," Oh? A clairvoyant is she? Could this be your first encounter with a mage of this world? Though the way she called you "burnt one" pisses you off," But I am able to divine the barest of hints, hints of a connection between you and other beings from around the world. Though these connections only manifest themselves in riddles, one I am not able to decrypt. But here is what I have divined of how the flames describe the beings connected to you. "Her eyes seem to glaze over as she speaks as if she was possessed.

"The demon hides her ambition
to break The house of Azure,
which grows desolate;
The trader's court vacillates, and bows to her,
Save for Quo who is a man of worth."

She pauses and takes a huge breath, as if saying these poems were a laborious thing to do. She speaks again.

"If you do not send that god to me
I shall raise up the dead, and they will eat the living.
I shall make the dead outnumber the living."

Then breaths again, before speaking. It becomes more apparent to you that the priest is speaking in fragments.

"Duchess of Ice
Paid the price
Burnt by the fire
Of revolution's ire."

She makes a choking noise before continuing,

"Now she sleeps in an icy tomb,
as comforting as a fleshy womb,
For when it breaks and she is freed,
The realms of men soon will bleed."

Then another fragment.

"I saw Sarah Good with the Devil
I saw Goody Osburn with the Devil
I saw Bridget Bishop with the Devil!"

and another

"
At night I coax him
from sleep
rousing him
with my mouth
By day
we build high brick walls
around us
our Babylon"

and another.

" So spake he, clouded with his own conceit,
And hid Excalibur the second time,
And so strode back slow to the wounded King."

Oh this one's easy, it must be about Saber.

How helpful of her and her god to give you hints of the identity of other servants, doesn't change the fact that they are scum. Though you are confused with how those riddles came into her mind. You'll have to keep an eye on her and her religion if every priestess is as clairvoyant as her, it is quite a powerful ability.

Her eyes become full of light colour as she speaks haggardly, "I do not know why, but we were meant to meet, wanderer. It is fate, The Lord deems it so. This won't be last time we'll speak."

You roll your eyes and push her aside since she has no more riddles for you. There is no time to waste, the revolt must be stopped. You'll contemplate on these riddles another time.

You step out of the tent to see a fatigued and sweating Araquo, surrounded by his men, it seems like he is giving out commands. How nice of him to try to catch up with you.

You walk towards him, and he spots your approaching form and looks at you in askance, "Lera's fine," He nods, "But most importantly, do any of your men know the common tongue? I need to borrow them to help me establish order and the safety of the civilians."

Araquo's Men's Knowledge 1D100 => 20
Araquo's Willingness 1D100 => 68

"None of my men speaks it, they're all slaves from the east." You grimace and Araquo straightens up despite how tired he's become, "I'll come with you, but only to help you ensure the security of Bridgeton, you'll be on your own for the other districts until the Head Captain comes here."

"What about your men?"

"The commanders responsible for the docks and shipyards has arrived to this rendezvous point, it seems that they have won. I'll tell them that I'd be leaving to fulfil a secondary objective and will be back soon. I'll meet you by the archway when I'm done."

You nod at that as he leaves and his men disperse. You walk to the archway, an entrance leading to the plaza where this encampment is located, it is made of smooth stone. It doesn't take Araquo long as he meets up with you refreshed and cleaned of any blood as the two of you jogs towards Bridgeton.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You arrive there to the sight of empty plazas and ransacked stores. Many panicked and fleeing civilians looked towards you and Araquo with relief as they are stopped in their tracks at Araquo's loud shout. He looks at you in askance.

"The Head Captain wants to set up shelters in Bridgeton to ensure the safety of the civilians and to make this revolt less messy than it already is."

Araquo nods and speaks to the crowd with his booming voice, what he said probably stirred up the group as they walk to him. The group must number in the high fifties or low sixties as you could barely see the edge of this mass of humanity. That or you're just really short.

A man in robes walks directly towards Araquo and speaks to him. The Guard Captain nods and points the crowd to an empty cluster of buildings, all of them large and ornate. They slowly walk to these buildings and enter them.

"What'd you tell them Araquo."

"One of them told me that his business is willing to shelter the oncoming fleeing civilians, but in exchange, I had to promise them that they will be safe and that we'll make sure Bridgeton is free of any rebels. Don't make me a liar Jeanne."

"I won't, any news on the adjacent districts?"

"I'll have to ask, give me a moment" Araquo walks towards the man he talked to earlier, they enter into an intense conversation before Araquo thanks him, or at least you think Araquo thanks him. He walks towards you and gives you the details, "There are two kinds of revolts around Bridgeton, one by slaves, the other by the cultists. Midtown is swarming with cultist and many men and women are being ritually slaughtered there. The South Market has been overrun by slaves, and they're massacring anyone that looks like a noble. Though there has been no news from the Guild District, the man only has hearsay from the others, some say that vile magic is taking place there, though it could just be superstition."

Where do you go first after you secure Bridgeton?

[] Stay in Bridgeton
--[] Search for any trapped civilians
--[] Search for any valuables that you could use or sell
--[] Find someone who could speak the common tongue to come with you (roll and pick another location)

[] Midtown
--[] Focus on killing the cultist and their leaders
---[] Go to the Temple district to rendezvous with Saber
---[] Don't go to the temple district.
--[] Focus on saving the civilians
--[] Write in...


[]South Market
--[] Kill the slaves utterly and completely
--[] Give them some form of leniency
--[] Ignore them and just focus on saving the civilians

[] Guild District
--[] Investigate for any supernatural phenomena
--[] wait until Saber finishes off the cultists in the temple district and come with her there. (Then pick another location, you'll go there once you finish off one of the other districts.)

[]Write in...


QM note: Sorry for the nearly week long Hiatus, been a busy summer. Anyways, the poems above are hints to the identity of the heroic spirits, some are from other works related to the heroic spirit, one of them is made by me and another is a historical poem that I modified to fit the story. Decrypt them at your leisure and thanks for reading!

Locking votes, to Midtown it is.

and now I give you the result of binge watching 10 episdoes of the Three Kingdoms TV show.

[X] Midtown
--[X] Focus on killing the cultist and their leaders
---[X] Don't go to the temple district.
Number of voters: 5

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, the answer's clear, Midtown requires a purge. You'll kill every cultist in this damn city, every last one. Then you'll find yourself a boat and get your ass to Westeros and forget any of this happened. Hopefully Saber's right on the Grail's location, but if not... well you don't know what you'll do to her.

You sigh, inwardly, looking at the city proper. Columns of flame and smoke rise from the South Market, whilst the smell of blood saturates your nose...Could this be your E-Rank luck? Or just bad karma? Maybe both?

This past week has been full of nuisances, from being "summoned" here (Were you actually summoned or just transported?), to the Dothraki and that fat lumbering idiot, to saving this city full of slaver scum from fanatic scum. All in a week and a few days, give or take. If you had a real physical body, you think you might've dropped dead at this point... Unfortunately, you can't, you're a servant, and your magical energy isn't even close to depleted yet.

You look towards Araquo, clad in his tiger cloak and steel claws. A feral man in a city gone wild, his tall stature makes him stick out from the fear-stricken crowd. He's proven to be useful at least, despite being the type who thinks with his dick than his brain, which makes you tolerate him.

You open your mouth as Araquo pays close attention, "Arturia will inevitably cross Midtown, it won't do to have the "leftovers" slowing them down. I'll head there, clean the area up and save whoever I can find."

"Will you meet up with him in the Temple District?" Araquo asks.

"No," You say with finality, " my mission is to save civilians and clean up the less chaotic districts, that's why I'll investigate the other areas later, and besides, I'm sure "he" doesn't need my help."

Araquo nods and proceeds to head to the Market Bridge. You move to make one final sweep of the area before going to Midtown.

A few minutes and a couple of dead cultists later, you finish cleaning the area up and inform the old man who's giving the refugees shelter of their safety.

You dash towards Midtown, where the smell of blood is most pungent — passing through damaged storefronts and ravaged plazas, the wares of merchants strewn all over the roads and walkways. You note especially the broken collars and shackles around the area, seems the uprising is in full swing.

You arrive at Midtown in seconds and is greeted with a warm welcome. Men in robes situated in the buildings around you throw crude spears from the windows, all the while men with flails, pans, and knives come out of the woodworks running to you.

You intercept a spear by grabbing it while deflecting another; the final one misses you by a foot. You look towards one of the windows and aim; a robed man ducks down trying to get out of your sight, but he's too slow. Despite the helmet's narrow visor you know where to throw. You tense up your body, getting into throwing stance and----

Fwoooom!

The spear doesn't even reach the window but instead pierces the wooden part slightly underneath the opening. With a loud CRACK, the wood breaks and impales the man's leg as he doubles down, screaming in pain. The other two men in the windows duck down, probably to get another spear.

In the meantime, the armed men finally reach you. You count only 5 of them, which is much too little to bring you down. You thrust St.Catherine towards the one wielding a pan, and he uses it to cover his face...idiot.

St.Catherine pierces through the pan and into his helmet's visor, and before he even has the time to realise what had just happened, you kick him away, freeing your sword.

In the corner of your eye, you see a flail's round metal head coming towards you. You grab it and pull the man towards you. As he nears, you swing St.Catherine, creating a deep diagonal cut across his torso. He falls, wordlessly, chocking in his blood.

You use the momentum from St.Catherine's swing to redirect yourself to the final three combatants. You have no time for this, and with a snap of your fingers, your blade erupts in flame. You spin your fiery sword which leads to their robes catching on fire. All three men are down to the ground, struggling to fend off the flames, a futile effort.

You leave them to burn as you jump to the window occupied by one of the throwers. You aim your jump to the building's second floor and as you reach the opening a dark robed man pops out, spear in hand. You bend your knee as you ascend and deliver a well-timed kick to the jaw. The sound of broken bones is all you need to hear to know he's dead.

Through the window, you enter the room he was in; his head twisted unnaturally. You spot the bundle of spears he was using at the corner of the room and went to grab one. In the across you, a dark robed man rises out with a spear in his hand — the last one.

Again, you tense your body up while tightly grasping the newly acquired spear and throw.

The spear strikes true and brutally, its tip impaling the man's chest. The final cultist crumples and falls as you jump down to the street. The three cultists now lay still with their robes gone and their bodies charred.

This whole thing seems like an ambushed, but you don't know how they got the jump on you. It's as if these cultists were waiting specifically for you, but that no way could happen. Could it be related to that feeling you had back in your rented room?

You move onwards to the central plaza where all three roads in Midtown leads to; hopefully, you won't be ambushed this time. You decide to go there by way of roof hopping, that way you a get a better sense of the area.

You eventually reach the central plaza to see...

What the hell are you seeing?

A red pentagram in the middle, one that glistens under the sun, must be blood if it can reflect light like that. You count around 30 men grouped up in circles of varying sizes holding up candles, daggers, and barnacle swords all the while chanting in a strange language. There's a man near the centre of the bloody red star, who seems to be a leader. Arms wide and head high as if he was delivering a speech, clearly the leader. There's a bronze-skinned woman at the centre, tied up and gagged, which feels you up with anger as brings back memories of your burning. You've been tied-up by cultists too, left to die for their god; only they weren't called cultists that time, just priests and bishops.

You can't believe it, an actual ritual taking place right here.

What do you do?

[] Burn the area, wipe them all out
--[] Maximum Fire Potency
--[] Medium Fire Potency
--[] Minimum Fire Potency
---[] Kill of any survivors
---[] Move on to the next
--[]Write in

[] Inspect the area further
--[] Can you discern what they're chanting about?
--[] What is the purpose of this ritual?
--[] Are there any men in the buildings around the Plaza itself?
--[]Write in

[] Charge in and slaughter them
--[]With St.Catherine
--[] With the Lance
--[] Write in

[] Save the Woman
--[] Jump high and land near her and pick her up
---[] Slaughter your way out
---[] Jump out of there
--[] Slaughter your way to the middle and save her.
--[]Write in


[]Write in

QM Note: Hey longtime no see, you might've thought I was dead but nope, just dying. Anyways sorry that it took so long, I hit a bit of a snag with this quest and this summer has been very busy.

Also a quick question for you guys, I think there will be more posts on other character POVs (There's one in Dorne and another in Braavos in the works), and I'm wondering if I should put them in the side story threadmark or incorporate them into the story posts. The way I'll do it is similar to the books as in one part of the post will be Jalter's POV and the next section will be someone else's. Will that be alright or should the other POVs stay in the sidestory threadmark, Thanks!

And as usual, feedback is greatly appreciated.

Also, Avenger Nobu looking great!

Spoiler: Firelord Nobu

tots gonna use this for an epic fight between emperor and hitwoman ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)