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Path to Divinity (ASOIAF Gamer SI)

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Chapter 08: Twin Axes
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    • Chapter 08
    Twin Axes    ​



    "Goin' ta take five men to lift it," Archie said, squinting at the cart broken down in the middle of the road. Already, there was a line forming up behind it, merchants and simple tradesmen alike shouting at the cart's owner, who was desperately trying to fit the broken wheel back into place.

    I hummed, thinking about how quickly it could be all sorted if any of those busying themselves with berating the man simply helped him.

    Instead, they stood around yelling at him as if that was going to speed things along. If anything, it was distracting him from the impossible task. Even if the merchant was able to somehow fit the tire back in properly, the axle was in bad shape. He'd need to pay a local craftsman to take care of that if he didn't want his cart full of goodies to break down in the middle of the road, far from any settlement. There, he'd undoubtedly face far worse problems than a couple of hecklers.

    "We'll see about that," I said, clapping Archie on the back. Jason's uncle groaned, knowing that I was just about to show off, but I could see his lips quirk up in amusement. Silently, I channelled Reinforcement's energy into my limbs, tripling my strength and speed between one moment and the next. The change in power remained unseen and unfelt, my boots thudding against the cleared path as I made my way towards the fallen cart.

    I could feel the questioning gaze of passersby settle on me, some having heard of me, others only having seen my massive form hulking from one part of the village to the other. It had been a couple of weeks since I'd come here. In that time, I'd been quietly working for one craftsman or the other, putting my INT score to good use by quickly learning new skills and earning a decent sum of money on the side.

    In my free time, well…

    I bent down to pick the wheel up and placed it in the merchant's hands, brushing off his questions with nothing more than a glance. I crouched beneath the cart and grasped it with both hands, exhaling as I pulled it up. Muscles bulged, the wood creaked as I applied force onto it, and after a moment, it was lifted into the air.

    Those that had been heckling him had fallen silent. The merchant gawked, the crowd that had formed around us stopping to witness the Giantsblood at work.

    Man, that had been one good cover, and I had marvelled at how well Jason had sold the story until I'd cast my newly learned 'Observe' at him. 11 CHR was working overtime. It hadn't affected him as mine had, either, since it was a natural part of his life. He wouldn't be winning any beauty pageants, but man would he do well as some lord's herald. It saved me from constantly having to worry about someone finding out about my powers, so I could use them to my heart's content.

    Well, mostly. I couldn't go around flashing my magic just yet.

    I put my back into it, pushing the cart onwards as its owner hurriedly jogged besides me. I went past the marketplace till I came to a stop in front of where I knew a local carpenter's shop to be located. There, with one final exertion of effort, I set the cart down onto the side of the road so it wouldn't be blocked. I brushed aside the merchant's blubbering with an absent-minded wave, accepting his thanks with a nod.

    "Don't worry about it," I said, letting Reinforcement slip from my grasp, grunting at the aches that came with using it.

    "Good ser," the merchant said, blue eyes staring intently into mine. "I know not where you come from nor why you chose to help me, but I will find a way to repay you. So Jon of the Harbour swears."



    xXx​

    [Scene Redacted. Up on QQ]

    xXx​



    "Your swordfightin' is shite," Rollo said calmly, throwing the training sword back at me.

    I groaned.

    As strong and quick as I was, I had almost no experience with fighting of any kind beyond the little brawls I'd found myself a part of in my last life. It wasn't as if I was powerless, the Gamer's unique abilities lifted me beyond the likes of normal men quite easily, but strength did not translate to skill as I'd quickly found out.

    If I didn't use Reinforcement, I could barely edge out a win against him, and even that was only possible because of the sheer size of my body, which was now likely closer to seven feet than six. I didn't exactly have something to compare it against as I'd met no one who matched my height or bulk so far. Plus, it wasn't like the village had proper measuring tools. They were a medieval village, after all. I guess I'd just have to wait to come across a Maester before I'd know how I compared to men like Sandor Clegane or his even more monstrous brother.

    "I can see that," I grumbled, picking the sword up and giving it a few swings in the air. A thought came to my mind, and I quickly called on Virtuoso to call up my skills. I browsed through them till I reached the one I wanted to take a look at.


    Swordsmanship LV5 EXP 30%

    The tale of death is embodied in no weapon more perfectly than in the sword. From the greatest of kings to the lowliest of bandits, all have used it and come to respect its versatility. If this skill is raised to the highest levels, your blade will sing through the air and deliver countless souls to the murky halls of the Underworld.


    I skimmed over the description, focusing more on the level.

    I frowned. Level 5 was… really, really low. Hell, I imagined I only had level five because I could inherently do more with a sword than the average man.

    But I was the Gamer, I thought as my knuckles tightened around the hilt of the sword. I did not know how effective training with a dummy sword would be compared to live steel, or how much EXP training offered in general, but I had time, and no reason not to build a repository of skills I'd need when I couldn't afford to rely simply on my physicality. I'd learnt how to fletch arrows – made some money off of it, too! – and improved on my spearmanship by getting Arnolf to lend his when he wasn't on duty. That skill stood at a solid LV15 already, in part because I had used it in the hunt.

    If I practiced here, in my free time, I could likely bring it up enough that I would feel comfortable bringing the weapon with me into real combat.

    With a determined grin on my face, I met Rollo with a clang of metal hitting metal.



    xXx​



    The hedge knight was decently armoured and well-armed, perhaps rich off of winnings at some local tourney or the other, perhaps simply lucky. He was not exactly youthful, but far from old. I imagined him to be somewhere in his early thirties. For a man of his age, he sure could fight, I thought as I parried a swing from his sword with the barest grunt of effort.

    I hadn't magically become a master swordsman, but now that I had a reason not to play fairly? I'd activated Reinforcement a few moments into our duel, knowing that without it his weapon and armour would win him the day unless I wanted to openly fight dishonourably. But now? I was more than capable of dealing with him.

    I dodged his blow, using my speed to my advantage as I twisted around to face his back. My blade sang through the air, hitting the knight's hauberk with the dull clang of iron meeting solid steel. I was pulling back already when he turned around to face me. We continued our fight that way, parrying the other's strikes, dodging blows narrowly, dancing away from thrusts and swings alike. In a real fight, this would have not gone on the way it had.

    But this wasn't a real fight.

    It was theatre, an ostensibly friendly duel between a hedge knight who had heard stories of me from a few villages over and wished to test my mettle, and me, who just had nothing better to do. He wasn't the first to come, and I doubted he'd be the last. Sweat glistened down his temples, the half-helm he wore doing nothing to hide his face from me. A look of exhaustion briefly crossed his face. The knight was a decent swordsman no doubt, perhaps even good, but I was Sigurd Giantsblood.

    When I dodged, I always followed up with an attack of my own. When I parried, I almost wrenched his sword from his hand. When I struck, I brushed away his blade and bruised him through his armour.

    Without wasting another breath, I moved, lashing out with a kick aimed at the knight's unprotected legs. Despite holding back – I didn't want to break his legs, after all – I managed to sweep him off his feet. He fell on his back with a dull thud, sword slipping from his hands as a jolt of pain went through his body. When he came to his senses, I had my sword's point held at his throat, gorget-less neck exposed to steel. I said nothing, instead withdrawing my sword and extending my hand towards him.

    He looked at it for a minute, a look of respect crossing his face. He clasped my arm, and I hauled him to his feet, a smile playing on my lips as well. Around us, the little crowd that had gathered to see him challenge me began to cheer, respecting the fight the hedge knight had put on even as some of them chanted my epithet.

    "I've never seen a man fight like you. I'll remember the skill you have displayed today for the rest of my life," He said, taking off his helmet. Locks of red hair were exposed to the world, green eyes staring at me intently, his words heavy with humility and respect. I could respect that.

    "Sigurd Giantsblood," I said, shaking his hand. The knight laughed, as if coming to realise that the title was more true than he had realised before.

    "Caldur of Willow's Rest," He introduced himself with a smile. "In honour of your victory, permit me the chance to buy you a drink."



    xXx​



    "As I told ya three times already, it's not about yer gold. I can't arm you with that much steel," Albert said gruffly, not looking away from his workstation. I frowned, annoyance flashing across my face. I had been attempting to haggle

    "And why is that, exactly?" I gritted my teeth, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

    Spending nights with Mariya had done wonders for my stress levels. And yet, as the sun burned its way through the sky, I felt the something awaken in my blood. A wild, untamed feeling that made my limbs restless and my eyes ache. It urged me to move, to explore the font of potential curled within me. Perhaps this was why Gamers chose to keep Gamer's Mind on, to avoid the unnecessary bouts of emotion that would hinder their growth.

    But was that all I cared about? An increase in personal strength? Was there not more to life than this, even if mine was shaped by some uncaring being of cosmic power? I did not know where the melancholy had come from, nor did I know why it felt comforting at the same time. I did not know, and perhaps I did not care to find out.

    "-brittle and little better than kettle iron."

    "Fine," I snapped, waving off his explanation. "Give me a spear, whatever you have already. I won't use any more of your time."

    The blacksmith turned from the sword he was creating, looking at me for a moment with some emotion I cared too little about to identify. "Sigurd," he said carefully, slowly. "I meant no insult-"

    I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. I needed to find a method of suppressing the urge to act that had cropped up within the span of a day.

    "I know, Albert, I know. Just- a spear will do, for now."

    He nodded once, retrieving a simple spear from the many shelves decorating his workshop. The armoury was bigger than I had expected, but it made sense the more that I learnt of the village. I had underestimated its importance. Given that it was located in the middle of half-a-dozen other settlements, it had invested considerably in its roads, slowly becoming a local trade nexus of sorts. Its people had grown wealthier as a result, with just enough money to spend that they could afford the little luxuries that other villages couldn't.

    I dropped forty silver on the table for the spear, strapping it to my back without another word. Albert began counting the coins quietly, perhaps worried that his unwillingness would result in losing my patronage. Then, he snapped his head towards me, a question on his lips. I smiled thinly, raising my hand to stop him.

    "You did not attempt to deceive me by exaggerating the quality of your steel. The ten extra silver are for your honesty. May the gods smile upon you."

    Albert stammered his thanks as I left his shop.

    Thirty silver was a hefty sum if one considered that it could buy a month's worth of accommodation and food at a rather high price. Old Jon clearly hadn't been in the mood to give me a discount, even less so after he'd found Mariya limping away from my room that morning after the battle. It only served to highlight the trust Arnolf had shown me by lending me his spear. Clearly, the way to deal with rowdy Northmen was to beat them into the ground and share a beer afterwards.

    I chuckled at the thought, breathing in the fresh air as I made my way out of the forge. One of the more positive changes I'd keenly felt after I'd come to this world was that the air was practically completely unpolluted, and at night, ten thousand glimmering stars were visible in the sky when the clouds were kind. I knew that this wasn't going to be the case in clogged cities like King's Landing, but here? In the middle of a small village in the North? It was as clean as it'd get.

    I was short a hundred silver, and although my grasp of Westerosi prices was still far from good, I thought it was a fair deal for a spear, gambeson, tunic, and leather trouser.

    The gambeson itself was rather simple, a black quilted jacket made of leather. It would have ideally served as under armour, but given the local blacksmith's inability to forge good steel mail, it would work for now. The tunic was made of dark green cloth, a simple thing but on the fancier side of things when compared to undyed smallfolk clothes. To keep things simple, the trouser was made of leather, much like my first pair of clothing, which I had mended for no reason other than sentimentality.

    I turned from the centre of the village and made my way towards the woods, nodding at those who smiled at my passing. The tales of my exploits had only grown in the time I'd been here. Days spent helping travellers and locals with their issues, putting my immense form to good use, and engaging in friendly contests of speed and strength with passersby had gotten me a fair deal of goodwill.

    I didn't mind, to be honest.

    The more that knew of me in this region, the better for when I inevitably ran into some of the 'named cast' as I'd begun to think of them. Some part of me knew that this way of organising living, breathing individuals into 'named' and 'unnamed' was a coping mechanism, a wafer-thin pretence I was upholding for the sole purpose of feeling better about where I'd found myself.

    Would I go on with life like this? Dismissing those around me as creations of fiction? If the multiverse was infinite, did that not mean that these 'characters' could be just as real as I was? As my world had been? Did that not mean I should treat them the same way as I would in my previous life?

    I shook myself from those thoughts, realising that I'd somehow found myself walking past the treeline and rather deep into the woods. The area looked familiar, something about the formation of trees and the canopy overhead calling out to me oddly. The wolf-fang pendant on my chest burnt coldly.

    I narrowed my eyes.

    Over the weeks, I'd come to realise that something was very unnatural about the necklace, even more so than the fact that my power had generated it. For one, it was completely disproportional to the wolf that the fang had fallen out of. Even more worryingly, it had a tendency of burning against my skin whenever something of importance was taking place nearby.

    Something rustled in the distance, and I grabbed my spear a bit tighter, muscles tensing as I readied myself for an attack. Out of the bushes, a dark shape stumbled out, black fur stained with blood, signs of a recent battle littering its body. The wolf limped forward, falling to the ground perhaps a dozen metres away from my form. My eyes widened as I took in the gash along its side. It had clearly suffered these wounds only a short while ago, which meant that whatever it had fought – and lost – against was nearby.

    I… knew this was just a wild animal who had lost its bout with nature. I didn't need to expend my power on it, didn't need to do anything about it. I could simply turn away and go back to the village, letting it die as I knew it would soon enough. The wounds were too grievous, its energy sapped to the point of nothingness. If its fellow predators didn't get to it, blood loss and hunger would.

    And yet.

    Something tugged me towards it. Perhaps it was the thoughts I had occupied myself with only a short while ago, the natural mental backlash of doubt and questioning that followed weeks of indulging cynicism and selfishness. I knew it was going to happen eventually. I just hadn't expected it to happen now. I'd always had a soft spot for animals, and sure, the wolf would die eventually. But now that I was here, with the ability to help?

    I sighed, strapping my spear to the back.

    I walked towards it, the animal too weak and tired to even lift its head to look at me. I crouched next to it, placing one massive hand over the wolf's wound. It yelped in pain, shuddering and thrashing, but couldn't do more than that given the state it was in. The fang burnt more fiercely than it ever had against my skin.

    Pulling deeply at the well of energy I knew to be curled within me, I channelled my magicka into the wound, my will manifesting itself in a burning golden glow. I could have muted the glow, could have dimmed its light, but I would be spending my time corralling the side effects of my skill rather than healing the wound. This would be the first time I was focusing Lesser Healing's energies into another's body.

    The fur sizzled as my magicka met it, the wolf's eyes snapping open as it sensed the unnatural touch it. It attempted to resist, but I calmly pressed on, forcing my power to reknit flesh, seal the wound and recuperate the blood loss. I knew even as I urged my skill on that it wouldn't be enough. The wound was too grievous, too serious to be fixed with Lesser Healing. Hell, I'd been stretching its use when I'd healed myself after the stag had slammed into me. The lesser cuts and scrapes across its body healed, fur growing where once bare skin existed.

    I pulled back my power, breathing deeply as I felt magicka slowly begin to refill. Within a minute and a half, my 'bar' would be back to full.

    Focusing intently, I moulded my skill in a different way, condensing the energy further, folding its healing light until it compressed into itself. I couldn't describe how I was doing that, or even what I was truly doing, but it was working. I could feel my magicka drop far more quickly than Lesser Healing's activation demanded, lighting my hand with a brilliant light that felt stronger.

    It sputtered out a moment later.

    Paying it no mind, I tried again, this time attempting to give the magicka purpose, declaring my intent to heal the wound before me alone, not as a general remedy to injuries and diseases. My hand lit up with golden light once again. Except this time, it didn't fade away, it stuck to my limb, heating the air around it and melting the snow beneath my boots. I smiled, knowing that I'd created something different. Perhaps not exactly what I was intending, but enough to fit the demands of the situation.

    Through continuous application of magicka, you have developed a new skill!

    Blessing of the Sun LV1 EXP 5%
    Sol has heard your pleas, considered them worthy, and answered your call, her healing light piercing through the heavens to come to your aid. The restorative abilities of your magicka are amplified fivefold, allowing you to heal yourself and others from major injuries and diseases.

    This works only if there is enough willpower to save those in front of you. Spread Sol's name through the world to make the skill easier.

    Costs 200 MP, single cast only.

    I read through the description, blinking at another indication that something… more existed beyond the realms of humanity. Or maybe this was just the Game adding fluff to an otherwise rather boring description. Ignoring that, I focused the Blessing into the wolf's body. Dried blood liquefied and ran off its body in rivulets, flesh reknit entirely, skin and fur reappeared. The wolf's shuddering breaths grew easier, its health returned to it by my will. Soon, it was as if it had never been injured.

    I wondered why I was doing what I was doing.

    Why did I care enough about some random animal to invent an entirely new skill for it? Did I not have better things to do with my life? I could be back in the inn getting drunk right about now. Perhaps, perhaps this just one more thing in a long list of coping mechanisms. A way to make myself feel like I was leading a meaningful existence by hanging around in this village.

    Somewhere above, a raven cawed loudly.

    "Making the world better by healing one wolf at a time," I laughed, a bitter sound that roused the wolf from its pitiful state. I rose from my position, my legs numb after having been in that position for so long. Stretching languidly, I kept an eye on the wolf, who remained where it was, its wariness evident to me. Clearly, bringing its ass back from death's door wasn't enough to earn its trust. I sighed. It wasn't like I'd been expecting it to suddenly become my pet.

    I slowly walked away from it, arms hanging limply by my side as I attempted to show it that I meant it no harm.

    For a moment, I thought about how darkly hilarious it would be if it attempted to attack me. I'd be forced to kill the beast I'd just brought back. No such thing happened, of-course. It let me walk away, muscles tensed in case I was simply luring it into lowering its guard. Slowly, it too backed away, keen eyes trained on me.

    And then, it bared its teeth towards the sky, howling fiercely. From a distance, I saw that it was missing three of its teeth.



    xXx​



    "Rider dropped off a letter for ya," Old Jon grunted without looking at me, busy placing pitchers of beer on a table occupied by some of his patrons. "I put it on the counter with yer food."

    I raised an eyebrow at that, wondering who would write to me of all people.

    Snow had fallen on my shoulders and hair on my trek back to the village, and I shrugged it off quickly as I entered the inn. I didn't want it melting and ruining my gambeson. Saying a quick thanks to Jon, I made my way towards the counter, grabbing the horn of ale he'd left for me. Turns out, you gained quite the liking for any kind of alcohol when the alternative was funky untreated water.

    I saw the letter set next to a platter of meat and a horn of ale. Given that it was parchment, and not merely poorly made paper, whoever was writing it had money to spare, even for a letter to someone like me. I was a nobody in this world with no real connections beyond this town. Didn't lords and knights generally mark letters with their personal seal? Humming with realisation, I took a bite of the beef dish and turned the letter over.

    There it was, a twin-headed axe was set in silver wax.

    I didn't recognise the coat-of-arms off the top of my head, but I imagined it had to be someone from a nearby noble house if the letter hadn't simply mistakenly arrived here. It was possible some merchant or traveller had spread word of my existence, and some lord or the other was intrigued enough to wonder whether the stories held a grain of truth to them.

    I drank deeply from the horn, careful not to spill any ale onto the letter. Undoing the wax seal, I began reading the contents of the letter, my eyebrows rising with each line until they threatened to disappear into my hairline. This definitely sped up my plans of meeting with nobility.

    To whom some call Giantsblood,

    Tales of your strength, stature, and generous nature have reached the halls of my master. Merchants, travellers and hedge knights alike have spoken of you. My master has expressed interest in meeting the man behind the stories, and he requests your presence at Castle Cerwyn at your earliest convenience. May the gods grant you safe passage.

    Signed,
    Maester Rhodry, in service to Lord Medger of House Cerwyn.

    I frowned lightly, mentally asking Virtuoso to bring up my stats. After almost a month of training various skills, completing sidequests quests and straight up grinding my physicals, I'd only managed to level up twice and increase some of my stats. It was honestly pretty insignificant if you thought about the amount of time I'd spent doing nothing but these quests. Evidently, the Game wanted me to shake things up if I wanted to change things.

    STR 13
    END 14
    DEX 13
    INT 17
    WIS 17
    CHR 16
    LUK 5
    10 Unspent Points

    I thanked Virtuoso mentally, swiping away the screen. Even discounting Reinforcement, I could dish out a fair bit of damage. Combined with the honestly inhuman amount of hours I'd put into learning bladework and the perks of being The Gamer, I felt pretty confident in being able to get out of potential trouble.

    I retired to my room after finishing up with my food, letter gripped in my hand.

    The wolf-fang burnt against my skin. I sighed, knowing that the little fiefdom of peace I'd carved for myself here was about to end. I supposed it wasn't the end of the world. I could always visit here after visiting Cerwyn, though some part of me doubted I'd be returning here for a long while. How would a noble react to my existence, especially one from the North? Giants weren't exactly loved, but their half-human offspring had always been formidable opponents to face. I wondered how I'd react if this Medger Cerwyn turned out to be a condescending sort, I wasn't exactly the best at keeping my cool. I was broken from my thoughts as the door to my room swung open. Mariya let herself in, closing the door behind her.

    xXx



    ​
    AN: Feedback is encouraged. Your thoughts help me write! :)

    Wall said:
    It keeps saying am not allowed to see this.
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  • Threadmarks
    • Oh it's going to be glorious the day he has to show off
    Especially since Sol has pretty much said, "yo, could you like, tell people I exist? I'll even throw in a bandaid and some Neosporin."
    To put it lightly, I guess
     
    All the gamer fics that are in westeros are always nerfed, even thou i know it makes sense since they will be too OP.

    Still interesting to see a gamer that wasnt too nerfed in Planetos.

    I eagerly await more.
     
    This has been a fun story so far, I hope it revives soon.

    While the time has long since passed, I'm a little curious why after discovering the inventory can store living beings in stasis, he didn't immediately store the dead wolves he'd slain and then use them as payment for the inn? Fresh wolf corpses are pretty valuable to a small hamlet.
     
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