Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV: Duncan;

In an abandoned temple less than two miles from Riverrun.

Five seconds after a third miniature was placed on a table...

"I know, Lord Stark. It's hard to believe what I just told you." I said, waiting for a reaction from the man.

"... In this past week, you have managed to make me reconsider on many issues, Lord Duncan...

I will not make any judgments until I have heard your reasons regarding your previous statement. Go ahead... " Pronounced the man with deep judgment and wisdom.

"I thank you for the trust and patience bestowed upon me thus far, Lord Stark...

However, I will still have to warn you that the final statements I will bestow upon you in the next few minutes will alter you quite a bit... Ned." I warned the man in front of me for the second time, calling his name.

"... I won't lose my temper to that breaking point if that's what you're afraid of... Duncan." Said Ned in a slightly offended and disappointed tone at the slight lack of trust I showed him.

"Unfortunately... I'm afraid you will, Ned...

The subjects I will touch you deeply. And I'm not talking about Lord Eddard Stark, the Protector of the North... I'm talking about the loving and friendly Ned Stark, the boy who was born and raised for most of his life by a wonderful family... " I said, warning the man for the third time.

"... I will bear this burden, and I will try with all my will and self-control not to utter words or perform actions that I will regret in the future...

This is a promise, Duncan son of Helman.

... Please. Explain to me now what my family has to do with all this talk." Ned was much tenser than before. Probably his sixth sense, his paternal, fraternal, and maternal instincts, had been shaken.

"That's good enough for me, Ned...

Before we touch on the most sensitive and obscure subject we've ever discussed so far, I'd like to start with hope if that's okay with you." I said.

"You can get to that point by choosing whatever path you see fit. I'm in no hurry." Ned.

"Well then. Let's relieve some of this tension that could send a pack of angry wolves running with their tails between their legs.

You asked me before who the Shield was...

Let me introduce you to the leader, who doesn't want to be but is in fact, one of the most powerful organizations in the world. An organization that few people know about or are part of, but that has a network of influence second only to that of the Titan of Braavos, or at least I think so...

Meet ' The Watcher'." I placed the fourth miniature on the table next to the Throne miniature so that it would symbolize the fourth most powerful organization in the world.

I had carved the miniature myself. I laughed at the idea of the face Zick would make if he learned how I had depicted him. The humanoid figurine's eyes were three times larger than normal. The face was also disproportionate by a huge smiling mouth.

' Ahahaha! How much would I pay for Zick to be here right now.' I thought as I looked at Ned's troubled face slightly surprised and confused.

'The Watcher?... I'm afraid I've never heard of it." Ned.

"Good thing that didn't happen. Only those the organization accepts as, 'Friends and Students of the Master', can call him by his real name. Ah... Of course, you can also call him by his name if he asks you to.

If you ever meet a man in his fifties with gray hair, skinny, very peculiar eyes, and who introduces himself as 'Zick', always be sure to be respectful and jovial to such an individual. And if possible... try to force yourself to laugh at some of his lame jokes. The man may be number one at his craft, but he's terrible with jokes.

I far surpass him, at least in that department. Ahahahahah...

... Never mind." Ned didn't seem in the mood for jokes at the time. With a gesture of pure politeness, he simply replied:

"... I'll keep that in mind.

Because... The Watcher is so influential? " Ned.

"Good question... So, believe it or not, in less than forty years that man has traveled far and wide, visiting many places and cities in the Known World and beyond. Even Asshai of Shadows, Merchant City of the plains of Jogos Nhai, crossed the Strait of Five Forts and reached the unknown city of K'Dath... and many, many other places.

During his travels, Zick has met thousands of individuals. Many of whom owe him a great deal of favor.

Zick's mastery is that he is the greatest martial master known today. Not only is he the best weapons master one could ever hope to have, but he is also a man with unique abilities that can bring out the best-hidden potential an individual possesses. He needs only one glance to know who is really in front of him.

His 'eyesight' has reached limits that a normal individual could never hope to achieve. No one can hide from the gaze of 'The Watcher', not even the leader of the House of Black and White sect.

Even the Faceless Men and the entire creed of the God of a Thousand Faces hold him in high regard. Zick is part of the list of 26 names that [cannot be offered to the God of a Thousand Faces]... I assure you, that is a very, very difficult goal to achieve.

Zick does not seek fame, glory, or riches, but they inevitably, and despite himself, haunt him. By bestowing advice and favors far and wide without ever asking for anything in return, the man has unwittingly created a network of individuals, influential and mostly very, very dangerous individuals, who want to protect and help him until the debt that, Zick hardly ever collects, is paid off.

Ned, I think you're in a position to make a personal judgment about my ability to gather information... Am I right?" I asked.

"Yes, I can certainly say that you can get relevant information..." Ned.

"Well, you should know that although several high-ranking members of this organization have tried and tried to explain to me the network and list of favors that Zick can call in, I have not been able to understand it on my own.

Imagine a labyrinth of intertwined threads that stretch everywhere and seem to never end...

I only know of 845 direct favors... Each direct favor can be connected to about 6 or 7 indirect favors, which in turn can connect with other possible favors to be requested...

Even Qyburn had great difficulty in studying such a network... In his opinion, Zick could easily request the help of tens of thousands of people he has never met or doesn't even know exist.

He doesn't think or care about this organization. It is his most trusted students who continue to extend and fortify it for him.

I assure you, Ned, that if Zick one day had the crazy idea of wanting the Iron Throne for himself, in many castles across Westeros, the Lords and Lady would find themselves reading a message that had come from King's Landing. The contents of which would be [His Grace, King The Watcher, orders you to report to the capital as soon as possible to swear eternal allegiance to him]. And many Lords and Ladies would shriek [What the fuck happened in the last month?]...." I waited for a spontaneous reaction from the iceman.

"... Pff... Ahah... uhuh... Ahahahaha!" Ned laughed.

"I finally got it! Ahahahaha!" I smiled cheerfully at the hard goal I had just achieved.

About two minutes of laughter and futile conversation to lighten the mood later...

"The way you describe him, he sounds like a great guy." Ned.

"Best man I ever met. You'd like him, Ned, I'm convinced of that. Even Robert would love him.

If Zick ever talked to King Robert, I'm pretty sure he'd abdicate the Throne to follow his dream of 'Founding his own Sellsword Company'. Ahah..." I replied.

"Ahah. You know that, too? May the Ancients save us.

You might as well take the Spider's place on the Small Council." Ned.

"Yeah, I'll admit it. I'd have a good chance of getting the job of Master of Spies..." It was time to return to more serious talk.

"... So 'Zick' is our ally?" Ned.

"Yes and No.

Zick hates conflict. He doesn't take sides with anyone and loves the most serene and reconciling [Neutrality].

He does not like to judge the choices of others and is always flexible and open about everyone's lifestyles and opinions.

His desire is only to advocate his pursuit of Martial Art.

We can say that he is more of an artist than a fighter.

However. It will certainly be possible to request favors from him.

I can easily request his help if needed.

Of course... within reasonable limits." Me.

"I see now... You are a pupil of Zick's?" Ned.

"I am, Ned. I'm a 'Special' pupil.

' [The Pupil of Zick] to be exact...

Don't look at me like that. I assure you it wasn't me who chose that nickname...

In any case, I am indeed a special case compared to all the other students.

A short while ago Master Zick himself named me his 'Heir'...

I know what you are wondering. And the answer to that question is :

[I have no idea].

I don't know what it means to be [The Heir of The Watcher] either... I honestly don't think that if Zick ever leaves this life one day, all the organizations left behind will pass right to me.

We're not talking about a Throne or an Empire... it's something much more complex and profound.

But let's not talk about that now.

I've already informed all the lords of the North, and now that you know The Watcher, it's time for you to be warned, too...

Always remember, Eddard of House Stark. If you ever encounter an individual carrying this symbol, you must never, ever harm them.

Under no circumstances, even if that individual were to kill your most beloved before your very eyes...

Never... 'NEVER' harm a direct pupil of Zick still in training.

That is the one limiting rule of The Watcher. If ever there was someone in this world who dared to violate this rule, not even all the knights of Westeros united together would be able to save him from the disturbing fate that awaits him.

No one and I stresses ' NO ONE ', should ever harm that pupil who carries the seal of Zick behind him.

Under no circumstances would Zick ever forgive that individual. He and all that he loves most would be swallowed up by dark and implacable forces.

The Watcher considers his disciples, [Not yet ready to face the challenges of the World], as his beloved children.

Not even the sworn murderous rampage of Balerion, 'The Black Dread', obsessively searching for [The One Who Stole His Eggs], would be a sufficient example.

Do I make myself clear, Ned?" I placed a piece of paper on which was depicted the image of two open hawk eyes on a black background.

Ned nodded and confirmed that he had received the message in a "loud and clear" manner.

After a few seconds, Ned asked:

"Forgive me for asking, but... I don't know. If what you say is true, then logically, both Balon Greyjoy and The Iron Bank should have... [Violated this limiting rule].

Or is your training already completed?" Ned.

"Glad you asked, Ned. It means you're paying close attention to the subject.

That's exactly why I'm considered a ' Special Learner'. So, no. They didn't break that rule.

Master and I have mutually agreed that my training is not finished, but on the other hand, the challenges of the world are my next training ground.

The Iron Bank is aware of this rule of Zick's, but they were unaware that, should they succeed in the enterprise of killing me, Zick's fury would strike them anyway.

Both Balon and the Bankers of Braavos took big risks without even knowing it. If Denys Drumm, or any other ironmen, had been the cause of Zick's Pupil's death, it would not have been King Robert's army that invaded Pyke. The fate of House Greyjoy, and most likely all the inhabitants of that island, would have been only death and suffering.

The Master would then turn all his forces against Braavos.

The Titan would manage to win that showdown, but not without losing at least an arm and a leg in the fight.

This is why Braavos did not dare to lay a single finger on me or my House during the six years Zick was a guest in the North.

They don't want a direct conflict against The Watcher's organization. They would be ousted from the top spot in the world's hierarchy after facing that storm." I replied.

Ned was shocked by the answer. He was probably remembering all the times when he or his wife were discussing the possible threat ' Bloody Snow '...

"Robert and the Southern Lords should be warned about this too! If they..." I interrupted Ned knowing where he was going with this.

"No, Ned... Don't worry. I've made some rules with Zick.

My master would only act should I fall under some devious plot. For example, if Denys Drumm had won the duel fair and square, Zick would only mourn my death by bearing that burden without seeking revenge.

House Drumm would not have been affected either if any of his men had managed to take me down during the battle.

We even established rules with the Faceless Men.

The House of Black and White could safely attempt to offer my name to their God." I explained.

"Why? If you had that 'Divine Shield' you speak of, why would you want to risk expert assassins coming after you?" Ned.

"Because I would be able to stand up to them, Ned. I want my enemy to believe that he can act freely against me.

It is only a matter of time that the Titan will seek the aid of the House of Black and White. I'd rather they squander mountains of gold hiring those assassins in an attempt to kill me than the people I care about.

Don't get your hopes up Ned. If The Iron Bank knew that the shield was actually still in place, they would aim to hit me where it hurts most.

My family, my friends, etc. None of them have the same privilege as I do. I'd rather face the enemy in my chosen terrain by preparing myself properly, rather than remain in the perpetual doubt of 'Who, Where, and When?'..." I said.

Ned seemed to greatly appreciate my response.

"I apologize for all the insinuations and insults I have unfairly bestowed upon you thus far, Duncan of House Tallhart.

You are an honorable man." Ned.

"Not as much as I would like to be, Lord Stark.

Let's just say I try." I replied, accepting the compliment.

"I understand the extent of the ' Fourth Estate', do you finally want to tell me about the second or do you want to talk about the third and sixth first?" Ned.

"The sixth first...

Briefly, the sixth power currently concerns us little.

[Vaes Dothrak].

The Dothraki people are more savage and untamable than the Wildlings. Yet, if all the Dothraki people were to unite into one great Khalasar and under the leadership of one Great Khal, that power would rival that of the Crown.

Though barbarians, the Dothraki people are a necessary evil for the slave trade. The slavers would not allow that people to reunite, but neither would they allow themselves to become extinct. There is a delicate and complex balance to the Dothraki military force and its economy.

While cruel to the fate of all civilizations oppressed by the horse lords, at this time we cannot afford to give offense and unwanted attention to the Dothraki.

The most dangerous individual is certainly the young Khal Drogo.

He is currently undefeated in any conflict with other Khalasars.

He is already in command of a current force of 30,000 Dothraki screamers.

Let's just say that we don't need to unnecessarily fuck with Khal Drogo first." I concluded by placing another horse-shaped miniature on the table.

"Now let's move on to the third one.

I already anticipate, Ned, that this third world organization is one of the keys to peace and prosperity in the North.

We should perforce forge a lasting alliance with such an entity, no matter how evil it may appear....

Let's talk about 'The King in The Yellow'. The Chief Sorcerer of the Confederation of Magic and Supreme Lord of Carcosa."

End POV.

----------

POV: The Lord of Winterfell;

In an abandoned temple less than two miles from Riverrun.

Three seconds after the last miniature of the six world powers was placed on the table...

"A Sorcerer King?... Was I so careless in my history classes that I didn't remember that there is a Sorcerer King in the world?" Ned asked with sincere disbelief.

"Well... Let's just say that the Measters don't like to discuss Magic and Sorcerers...

Truly few in Westeros know of civilization further East than the great Dothraki Sea...

There are worlds and knowledge beyond the borders of the Bone Mountains. Almost unknown cities and coastlines rising on the shores of the Jade Sea.

Magic...is not highly valued and present here in Westeros or the nine free cities, Ned.

But I assure you, beyond the Bone Mountains, there is almost a magocratic in those lands. There the connoisseurs of arcane power are esteemed and valued. Any lord of a fortress or protector of a city in those lands has at his service a magician belonging to the Confederation of Magic.

The headquarters of the Confederation resides precisely in Carcosa.

Some call it 'The Capital of Magic'.

Carcosa and Oldtown have been bitter enemies for over four thousand years now.

Currently, the two cities are in a truce that has not been openly declared. Before the fall of the Valyrian Empire, the agreement between the two superpowers was that magic would be quietly free to flourish from the Qohor and Naath borders. The Free City of Qohor was exactly the borderline. It was divided into two main districts, one of which was allowed to study and experiment with spells.

I know all this will seem strange and unfamiliar to you, Ned.

I only ask you to keep an open and flexible mind." Said the boy.

"I'll try. Do you also know this... The King in the Yellow?" Ned.

"No, not in person. But he is good friends with my Master, Zick.

Zick is currently traveling specifically to meet up with his longtime friend.

The King in the Yellow is himself a person that many would consider evil and ruthless, but he is also very polite, respectful, and true to his word.

Zick is one of the few ''Guests of Honor'' in Carcosa. The Watcher and his retinue would be treated at every point under the rule of the Confederation of Magicians as The Hand of The King would be treated at Kings Landing.

The King in the Yellow himself owes Zick a favor or two.

That's why I strictly warned you to never, ever piss off The Watcher. If need be, Zick would have no problem calling in the favor from him to unleash the arcane power of The King in Yellow and all the power of Carcosa against the poor unfortunate who harmed the 'Son-Disciple of Zick'...

That person, Ned, is perhaps the deadliest humanoid individual in this world. I am not joking when I tell you that that ' Sorcerer ' will prevail in a deadly fight against a well-armed and trained militia of 1,000 men... Moreover, he has a more lethal and trained armed escort than the Royal Guard... I'm not talking about King Robert's Guard, consisting of Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount... No, I'm talking about '12' sworn guards each at least as deadly as Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur Dayne in their heyday.

Zick himself helped them with their martial training.

They are the 'Twelve Arcane Shields'. Magical knights armed and clad to the teeth in pure Valyrian Steel. The only individuals in this world to wear Plate Armor made entirely of Valyrian plates. Their equipment alone could easily buy half a continent. This is only part of Carcosa's power. Do you now understand the value of this individual?" The Boy asked.

' I praise and thank the Old Gods for giving me the readiness and swiftness to stop Cat that day in Winterfell...

The world I'm sure I knew doesn't exist anymore.' Ned thought, feeling anxiety, relief, and fear all at once.

He recalled in detail the moment his wife had ordered her men to arrest and imprison Zick's student who was under the protection of the laws of hospitality.

"Yes, it is clear to me. When you tricked my wife into going insane that day, House Stark truly risked extinction... " Ned.

"No, I would never... Emm...

Well, you've made your point." The boy.

After a brief pause to catch his breath and drink some water, the boy continued:

"Now Ned.

Zick has departed to meet The King in the Yellow and bring him in person the invitation to Lady Barbrey's wedding...

But it shall not be Barrowton who shall host the 'Sorcerer King'...

It shall receive hospitality from House Stark in Winterfell..." Said the cheeky boy.

"WHAT?! I'm supposed to host such an individual?! Why would you do that?" Ned shot back in concern.

"Well... Technically, the Head of the Wizarding Confederacy, according to the truce treaty signed and sealed about 1,000 years ago, between Oldtown and Carcosa, can only set foot in the lands of Westeros if invited directly by one of the Seven Royal families that ruled Westeros at the time...

Yes... Only House Stark, Lannister, Harlaw and Martell are currently allowed to host members of the Wizarding Confederacy.

This... was one of the minor requests today." Duncan.

"... Do I have the option to refuse?" Ned.

"Of course... emm... Only... emm, how should I put this." This was the first time Ned had seen 'Bloody Snow' so uncomfortable.

"Tell me what? Speak up! " Ned.

"... Yeah... Technically, Zick left about three months ago... So...

I'm afraid he already reached Carcosa three or four days ago, barring delays and unforeseen circumstances... But, since Zick and his group are rarely plagued by delays and unforeseen events... and also since I have gifted him with the best ship and transportation... I fear they are on their way there by now...

It would be very... 'Not recommended' to offend the King in the Yellow...

After all, he is a person, very, very old and fond of etiquette and manners. The master warned me that his friend... emm yes, let's say he would react like Zick himself in case someone crossed a certain line... " Duncan.

Ned took a sip of water before saying:

"Do you remember when, a while back, I called you a 'Man of Honor'?"

"Yes, my Lord." Duncan.

"Forget it."

End POV.

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

POV: Zick;

About a hundred miles from the Morning Mountains, Arcane Tower, Carcosa.

About four days before a boy explained to a Northern lord the balances and forces of the known world...

"How many years has it been since your last visit?" A dark voice asked.

"Mmm, I think 11 or 12 years... I don't remember exactly." Zick.

"What?! 11 or 12!? What year are we in?" The King in the Yellow.

"289 After the Conquest of Aegon, Chai.

Seriously, you should stop locking yourself up in that world-forgotten trap you call a Research Laboratory... Enjoy life a little more." Zick.

"I've already enjoyed life, Zick. Now it's time to devote me to my Art. At least you should understand me.

Those bootlickers of my assistants keep pestering me with requests and invitations and papers to sign...

I am sorry to inform you, that I am still far from finding the solution to your 'problem'... Those incompetent Qohor and Asshai made a real mess with that ritual...

Idiots, if they had asked me, I would have even permitted them to perform the ritual here near the tower... How much time do you have left?" The Sorcerer.

"Five... ten years at most.

It doesn't matter anymore, my friend. Don't waste your time.

I finally found what I was looking for." Zick.

"No. A deal's a deal, I promised I'd help you find a cure... Wait...

YOU FOUND AN HEIR?!" Chai Duq.

"Yes. Ahahahahah! The crown jewel! Pay up, old man." Zick.

"And who is this man or woman? Essos or Westeros?

Ah... Right. Remind me, how much did we bet?" Chai Duq of the Chai Dynasty.

"Seven Pentosys silver coins, and make them brand new, please... That old hag keeps accusing me of being a thief and a slacker unable to get a job...

Westeros unfortunately... but you might get a chance to meet him if you want." Zick.

"He's here? What are you waiting for let me meet him?! I really want to see what kind of person he is. Race, age, physical peculiarities, and... " Former Emperor of the Yi Ti Empire was interrupted.

"No. You will not do any experiments on the boy. Nor will I allow you to make him your lab rat." Zick.

"My friend, I would never do any harm to the boy. What do you take me for? Some quack from that hovel House of the Undying?!.... Ah by the way... Maybe I had a date a decade or two ago with those disrespectful, arrogant, and unhinged blue-lipped bald kids...

I hope my assistant Quaithe took care of that...

There's never enough time, Zick." The King in The Yellow.

"You come and tell me, that time is not enough for you?! How old are you? Honestly." Zick.

"I'm still young... I lost count before that Valyrian kid landed in the lands of the Andals...

I honestly don't know. Eight maybe nine hundred...

Certainly not more than nine hundred, otherwise this body would have rotted by now.

Ah, about it, Zick! Do me a favor, if in the next few years you see a red comet in the sky, let me know, even if I should have given instructions not to be disturbed.

My master had promised that crazy old Druid who lives on that island that we would double-check the arrays on that wall of ice.

The commitments just keep piling up...

AH! I almost forgot! Please take a look for me at the descendants of the Wolf lineage! If they were to become extinct, it would be quite a mess... I couldn't set foot in the lands of the First Men without starting a war otherwise...

By the way, the First Men still exist, don't they? The Andals didn't exterminate them all, did they?

What were we talking about before?" The Sorcerer.

"... Seriously, Chai. You could really use a breath of fresh air..." Zick.

"Look, I already got out of the tower a little while ago!.... Oh right... 289 A.C... Yeah, you're probably right.

He should be three or four years old now... He should already be able to talk...

Maybe I could... " The Sorcerer began to speak to himself.

"Who are you talking about?" Zick.

"Ahaha! You don't know how much I hate to have to pay you those seven coins. I've found a probable pupil heir too! He should be three or four years old, now." Chai.

"And who is he?" Zick.

"Ah, I have no idea. All I know is that he's in the lands of the First Men, at the moment. The arcane energy has landed there." Chai.

"Explain yourself, please. I'd like to remind you that I'm not the best Arcane Artist here." Zick.

"Yes, forgive my manners. About three years ago, another foreign interference from another world breached our dimension and landed in the northernmost lands of Westeros.

Even my disciples sensed it. It was the purest and most immense arcane energy. Even more powerful than that of my master.

He must have found a host. Only a descendant of the First Men or a child of the forest could have contained such energy. And it would have to be a newborn host. The body would have to adapt like a symbiote, otherwise the energy would have already come out. Trust me it didn't.

Not even a thousand tons of that green soup of the so-called ''Alchemists'' could have recreated such an explosion.

Since no natural disaster has been reported to me, the host is still alive.

Someone with powers foreign to this world must have uttered a Word of Power that summoned this energy from who knows where, Zick. That individual, if well-bred and educated, could become a Sorcerer equal or even superior to my ancestor. You remember the story of my ancestry don't you?" Explained and then calmly asked Chai.

"Yes, yes, all you do is brag about it. You're a little too obsessed with this [Ancient Descent] thing, my friend.

You are descended from the legendary and very powerful The God-on-Heart, the only son of The Lion of Night and The Maiden-Made-of-Light, the greatest arcanist history has ever known. " Repeated Zick for the third time in an hour.

"That's right! That's the one! Glad you remember him. Ahaha." Chai.

"Back to the topic [Maybe I found an Heir]... Tell me more, you remember right that I was in North Westeros a while ago, right? I think that was the second thing I told you as soon as I walked in here." Zick.

"Of course, I remember that! Watch how you talk to the descendant of The God-on-Heart, Boy! What do you take me for? For one of those forgetful old farts from Oldtown maybe?!" Chai.

"... I wouldn't dare." Zick.

"And I should like to see that!... Anyway, Yes. I was going to ask you. Zick, did you see anyone in particular while you were up North at that time? When you said you'd been there?" Chai.

"... I was there for six years. I left those lands about three months ago." Zick.

"Perfect then! Zick, have you by any chance met my possible future Heir?!" Chai.

"That depends... Hard to tell with this little information you've given me. You mentioned a 'Word of Power'... By any chance... No, I meant: Could you at least repeat that ' word ' for me?" Zick.

"Sure thing, my friend. You know very well, I never forget anything, especially that which pertains to the arcane! haha." Chai.

"... So? What is that word." Zick.

"I was getting to that! Damn it, Zick, what has happened to you? I remember you being a much more patient guy in the past. You almost look like you're going to die any minute...

Anyway... As I was saying.

The power word is this:

{ ELMINSTER }. Have you heard that word anywhere by any chance?

... Ah, about that. You had mentioned something to me about an invitation and a favor a little while ago, right? "