####
The North, Winterfell.
"Aye, my Lord, I seen what I seen. Golden armor, white cloaks—Kingsguard, no mistakin'. Just the once, but it sticks in the mind, that sort of thing. Then I heard a lady screamin'. Followed the sound, quiet as I could. Found a tree, big and twisted, and another knight waitin' there. They put her—Lady Lyanna, I think—into a wagon with a dragon on it. Red three-headed one. I swear it, by the Old Gods. Ain't tellin' no lies."
Lord Rickard Stark furiously eyed the man, a mere farmer from a village near the White Knife river banks. "You expect me to believe three Kingsguards snatched my daughter? At the Targaryens' command? Tell me how that's anything but madness."
"I-I'm no tale-spinner, my Lord, I swear it! It was right there, I saw it with me own eyes, I did!"
"Aye, it's possible," Brandon said, standing straighter than usual. "At the tourney, "Rhaegar didn't even pretend to be subtle, looked at Lyanna like a starving man at a feast. Sought Lyanna's favor in the joust, right before his wife's eyes. If Wylis hadn't won, he'd have named her his Queen of Love and Beauty. Gods help us, the court's split right down the middle—and those Kingsguard? They're the prince's lapdogs, every one of them."
Of course, Rickard knew all that. He was already furious at the Targaryens, and especially Rhaegar, for what he'd done at the tourney. He wasn't there, but to seek a betrothed woman's favor was akin to looking down upon his house, and also Robert Baratheon.
"Prepare the horses, Brandon. We're going to King's Landin—"
Bam!
"My Lord! Raven—Raven from King's Landing! It's Wylis!" Maester Walys rushed into the Great Hall. "Raven…"
"Stop stuttering and speak, Maester!" Lord Richard shouted. "What's the matter?"
"It is Ser Wylis, my Lord. The Crown has declared him outlaw—there's word of a bounty, no less than half a million gold dragons, for any soul who brings him before the King."
"..."
Brandon Stark looked at his father, and his father looked at him. Both men, and any other man in that hall, be it that farmer, or the Stark guards, froze in the moment. Bounties weren't uncommon, but they barely ever went that high. Heck, the highest they'd known was a few thousand dragons. To make it half a million, what the fuck did Wylis do? They were all curious.
"What did he do?" Brandon asked.
"Naught is written, Young Lord," murmured Maester Walys, wringing his hands. "But Ser Wylis is gone from the capital, that much is plain. W-We must put space between him and us. House Stark must not be seen as entangled. Lord Stark—"
Lord Stark nodded. "I ride for King's Landing, Maester. I'll see my daughter returned with all the justice the realm is due, and make it clear that Wylis is no ward of mine—or of the North."
"No. No, I won't have it." Brandon snapped, fire in his voice. "He's got more North in him than half the lords in these halls—giant's blood or not. Gods, Father, have you gone soft? We're not craven Southerners. We're Starks. And Starks stand for their own."
"He's no Stark, and never was, boy." Lord Stark glared at his son. "And mind your tongue. You speak as if you wear a crown, not still clinging to your nursemaid's tales. Don't be a fool. Half a million gold dragons? Wylis may have crossed a dark line."
"You assume too much, Father. You think this isn't Rhaegar's doing? He's boiling after the tourney—Wylis knocked his teeth in front of half the realm. Let's be sure what we're dealing with before we start naming crimes." Brandon tried to control his father. "First, we find Lyanna. Wylis—he's a tough bastard to kill. That much I know."
To that, Lord Stark agreed and stormed out of the Great Hall.
Left behind, Brandon looked at the Maester and snatched the raven from his hand. He read the little parchment himself and sighed deeply.
Half a million? What the fuck did you do, my friend?
"Y-Young Lord?"
Brandon looked at the voice. The old farmer from earlier was eying him with fear. "What?"
"Beggin' your pardon, my Lord, but… w-what's Ser Wylis done? He's a good lad, I swear it. Best of the bunch. Fixed my plough with his own hands when you camped nearby on the way to the tourney. Didn't take a copper. Can't believe he's done wrong… not him."
Brandon eyed the farmer with amusement. At that point, Wylis was more loved in Winter Town than any of the Starks.
Aye, that fucker… can do no wrong… other than bedding my sister—I'll bash his teeth out for that.
####
Unaware that Brandon had known about his affair with Lyanna for some time, Wylis was busy rushing away from King's Landing, heading south into Kingswood. Instead of using the road, he used the cover of the forest and used his home-made crude compass for direction.
It was the middle of the second day, nearing sunset already. He moved towards Felwood, the seat of House Fell. It sat somewhere near the southern edge of Kingswood, inside Stormlands.
Ting!
[Mad King's Current Bloodlust - 105%]
What? How is that even mathematically possible?
Ting!
[Side Quest Completed - Escape King's Landing
Description - With the Mad King's Bloodlust peaked due to Rhaella's loyalty gift, you have become the most wanted man in the Seven Kingdoms.
Reward - Prince Rhaegar's secret vault's location.]
Holy Shit! It's… It's under the Tower of Joy?
That information just entered his mind like a piercing arrow. He knew exactly where the vault was, what it looked like, and how to open it.
Ting!
[Main Quest Triggered - The Most Wanted Man
Description - You have escaped, but now hunted. The King desires your life, blood, and soul, and the price he's offered is 500,000 Gold Dragons. Beware, every Tom, Dick, and Harry will be swayed by the lure. If enough ants strike, even the elephant falls.
Goal - Survive and thrive. You have sown the first seed of rebellion.
Reward - Location of all forgotten Valyrian Steel in Westeros and Essos.]
"H-Half a million!?" Wylis nearly shouted and almost fell from the horse in shock. "Fuck! Aerys has gone mad!"
"Ser Wylis?" Qyburn eyed his young teacher. "What's the matter?"
Wylis sighed and stared at the dishonored Maester. "The King's declared me a traitor. There's a bounty on my head—five hundred thousand Gold Dragons. Don't bother asking how I found out. Know it's true."
Of course, Qyburn was curious. But he was following the young man for that same reason. "Why? What does the King seek from you?"
"Everything, I reckon. From what I've pieced together, the bastard meant to use me in some kind of blood ritual—drain me dry for power or madness, who knows. Wouldn't be the first wicked thing he's done. They don't call him the Mad King for nothing. Now his precious little lamb slipped the noose."
Though the reward from that quest was high. The price and struggle behind it, however, would cost him an arm and a leg, he reckoned.
"Let's settle down for the night, Qyburn. At first light, we ride into the Dornish Marches. From there, it's open plains—no cover, no time to dawdle. We'll need to move fast." Wylis made the decision even though it was a few hours until sunset.
They soon found themselves a decent opening in the forest and made a tiny camp. They created a small fire and surrounded it with stones to hide its bright flickering. Then, they cooked the food.
Though they first had to take off the heavy sack from Wylis' horse's back, throw salt on it, and then hang it against a high tree branch. It had to be done as the scent of the rotting dead body was getting heavy, easier for wild animals to chase.
A dark-haired woman, short in stature, dead. It was a smallfolk woman that Qyburn was called to save in King's Landing some nights ago. But by the time he reached her, the midwives had already ruined the situation, and the woman had died, but the child was safely born thanks to what Wylis had taught him.
Paying some coin to the grieving husband, it was easy to take possession of the body for scientific research.
"Rest now, Qyburn. Tomorrow won't be easy. You'll ride ahead—far enough that if blades come for me, they won't find you too."
With that, Wylis tied his hammock between two trees and relaxed in it.
####
King's Landing, the Red Keep.
"Where is he?! WHERE?! Roared the Mad King from his throne, eyes red with insanity, his breath rushed and heavy. The King hadn't slept for a whole night and a day, and now it was nearing the second night since the King's prized champion had escaped.
The various lords and knights in the throne room stood in fear and panic.
"And where is the fucking Lord Commander?! Where is Ser Gerold? Where is Ser Arthur? Where is my son—where are they?! Gone, all gone, hiding like rats in the walls! Do you think me blind? Do you think me weak? TRAITORS! Every last one of you! I'll have you roasted—roaring—screaming, until your bones blister! This is treason, treason most foul!"
The Mad King shouted, standing in front of the Iron Throne.
"Barristan! Speak! Have you found him? My champion—my glorious beast—he's hiding, isn't he? Skulking through the alleys like a rat! He wouldn't flee... no, no, the gates were sealed, weren't they? Still trapped in my city... still mine..." King Aerys asked, but then his crazed eyes looked at the other men. "Unless—HA! One of you let him go! Is that it? Did you conspire? Barristan! Question them! Skin their lies off like old paint! My brute leaves footprints—find them! Find him! FIND HIM!"
Right then, the sound of the doors creaking came. Grand Maester Pycelle walked inside and then whispered something to Lord Hand, Owen Merryweather's ears. That action didn't go unnoticed by the King.
"Traitors in every shadow! What do you hide from me?!"
"Ah!" Lord Merryweather almost shat himself. "Y-Your Grace, a r-r-raven has come, just now. From Winterfell. Lord Rickard Stark and his son… t-they ride south. To King's Landing. With haste. T-They…"
"Speak! Speak before I silence you forever!"
"Oh, Your Radiance, the northern Lord babble of some abduction—claiming our Prince Rhaegar has kidnapped Lord Stark's daughter, that Lyanna girl betrothed to Robert Baratheon—they beg Your Majesty's divine hand to intervene."
Aerys sneered at his Lord Hand, and then at the rest of the men. "He spits slander at the throne? At me? The insolence! My son has bred the Dornish mare and foaled me heirs—grandchildren with fire in their veins! Let them come, yes, yes, the wolves with their snarling lies. I heard them whispering at Harrenhal, oh yes, conspiring in their furs."
Aerys sat down on his throne. But then, he jumped again to his feet.
"But no, no—first my beast! My beautiful brute of a man! Barristan, proclaim it—whichever house captures him shall have a mountain of gold, a million dragons high! And their daughter—or son, I'm generous—shall wed my second son… or perhaps my granddaughter. Let them hunt for him like dogs—do it, Barristan, now!"
Jaw clenched, Ser Barristan saluted the King, bowed his head, and left the throne room with a heavy heart.
####
Ting!
Wylis woke up to the chiming of Tyrant's Squire. It was early in the morning, and the sky had started to turn blue with the rising sun.
[Main Quest Updated - The Most Wanted Man]
[Updated Bounty - 1,000,000 Gold Dragons]
"..."
He got out of the hammock with a deep sigh, rubbing his face. He didn't even react to that damn update. Five hundred thousand or a million, it made no difference at that scale.
Ting!
"What now?!" He grunted, eyes red with anger.
[Trueborns & Bastards Revoked!]
[Name: Rhaella Targaryen
Age: 37
Occupation: Queen, Mother, Grandmother
Current Loyalty: 100%
Status: Pregnancy Terminated]
"..."
Pat!
He smacked his face with both hands, his eyes felt heavy, as if sinking into his skull. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks now. And now this update. While he expected it, Rhaella giving birth to a brown-haired babe was outrageous. But still, it annoyed him.
It's going to be a shitty day, isn't it?
Moving on, Wylis ate some food with Qyburn, prepared the horses, and rushed south again. With a crude map of all the towns and villages, and noble houses marked, he avoided them once he arrived in the Dornish Marches. He felt somewhat safe while in Stromlands since it wasn't loyal to the King.
But once he entered Dornish territory, he had to be careful. He didn't take the Boneway, avoided Blackhaven, and eventually reached the ruined castle of Vulture's Roost, deep in the Red Mountains.
In total, it took him more than a week to get there. Hiding, resting, at times traveling at night, even on foot, using Earthbending to avoid cliffs and rocks. And eventually, he and Qyburn arrived on the ridge of a small mountain, beyond which the Tower of Joy could be seen in the distance.
"Stay here," Wylis said, hitching the horses. He set up a small camp just off the ridge. "It's empty right now. We'll move when they get here. Takes weeks to ride from the North to Dorne."
"Mind me asking, Ser Wylis… whom do we await? Forgive my inquisitiveness, but I confess, I'm quite unsure where we are bound." Qyburn asked respectfully.
A hint of a smile slipped through when Wylis replied, "Just a girl… the mother of my child."
"Ah, love." Qyburn also passed a smile. "I'm curious to see who won your heart."
"Aye, you will. And then you'll take her, with my babe, to Oldtown. I know you've got friends in the shadows there. Hide her well. No one must know who she is—not for at least a year and a half. That's your charge."
"Why, if I may ask?"
Ting!
"Why? Because some damned clever bastard once said chaos is a ladder. And chaos has come knocking, Qyburn."
This time, it didn't shock Wylis. In fact, he was waiting for that notification. The real turning point in his life. The chaos he was seeking.
[Main Quest Updated - The Most Wanted Man]
[Updated Goal - The Tyrant's playground is set. Win the rebellion for the one you support.]
[Updated Reward - Location of all forgotten Valyrian Steel and Dragon Eggs in Westeros and Essos.]
He ignored the reward, his mind occupied by the cost of that quest update. The rebellion had officially begun.
Lord Stark… Did Aerys burn him? And Brandon?
______________________
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