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Raiden's Storm Chapter 83: Looming Decision
🕑 Added 2024-08-21 22:33:42 +0000 UTC[3rd person]
Edric did not show the slightest inkling of mercy, raining arrows and lightning down on the wildlings who dared besiege the Wall. He first put down the giants, taking the wildling’s greatest weapons with haste. None of his arrows had missed - soaring with lethal accuracy. They were just as deadly and efficient, putting down a wildling each. It seemed as if he alone could man and defend that portion of the Wall…
Each attempt that Mance made was thwarted, time and time again, with lethal decisiveness.
With his newly attained skill, Eye of Stormy Judgement, Edric was able to fuel himself with electro energy from each kill. This made him capable of fighting for much longer, standing on top of the wall for an entire day with only the smallest of breaks between. By then, he had slaughtered thousands of wildlings singlehandedly and forced them to retreat into the woods further north.
“YEAAAH! RUN BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM!”
“VICTORY IS OURS!”
“WHAT IS A HORDE OF WILDLINGS TO THE STORM?”
Everyone who had fought alongside him looked at Edric with endless reverence and a bit of caution. He had arrived and sent the wildlings packing in but a single day! His terrifying gaze was unsettling, the usually cool ocean-blue eyes replaced by a piercing violet purple. While a majority of the men celebrated with joy, his expression was entirely unchanged.
“We’ve won a couple of battles.” He remarked, looking around. “Celebrate, if you must… but don’t let it get to your head. The war is not over yet.”
Edric’s words reigned the excitement of the men atop the Wall. After saying his piece, he sat down on the ice-cold floor, his back leaning against the battlements. He felt all too weary. His entire body felt numb from constant fighting, from fingers to hands to arms to legs. Though most longbowmen would fire at a decent pace, Edric’s speed was nearly twice as fast - while firing at ten times the range… sometimes more.
Even with his electro enhancements, his body could only take so much.
He put his bow to the side, looked at his shaking hands, and sighed.
“The Wall wouldn’t fall from you taking some hours for bed rest,”
Arya remarked, standing next to him. She looked concerned about his condition. While she knew he could endure more than any other man, he wasn’t indomitable and tireless. Constant fighting would bring him down like anyone else.
“I gave them the impression of a terrible God who does not tire.” Edric managed a smile, tilting his head slightly. “Now that they’ve routed, they will think twice about attacking this part of the Wall… likely diverting their attention elsewhere.”
“Eastwatch-by-the-Sea?”
“More than likely.” Edric nodded, lowering his head slightly as his eyelids grew heavy. “I… will have to ride there with haste and humble them. But - I cannot be at three places at once. If Mance is clever enough, he will split his host in three… or focus on attacking the gate opposite to me. Either way, they’re only delaying the inevitable. This is not a war they can win.”
“If some of them manage to get past the Wall…”
He blanked out.
“You talked too much.”
Arya smiled slightly, retrieving his bear cloak and taking the time to wrap it around him. It wasn’t easy at all, given his weight. She even had Robb help with it.
“He’s finally asleep.” Robb let out a sigh of relief. “He’s thrice as powerful as before and ten times as stubborn. I told him we had the Wall secured, but he wanted to see them run.”
“I see why you were so certain of him,” Jon remarked, joining in as he looked at the resting Edric. “Mance Rayder won’t try this gate again if he still has his wits about him. They might split their forces and attack from east and west. Though, I reckon he will try to negotiate after today. He has lost too many men and gained nothing for it.”
“That negotiation cannot happen without His Grace,” Robb replied, looking to be in deep thought. “To make certain that the Wall stands, I would send reinforcements for Eastwatch-By-The-Sea and the Shadow Tower. But… His Grace might have other plans. We will wait for him to wake acting.”
“I didn’t think you’d lack for confidence, Lord Stark.” Jon smiled slightly.
“His Grace just so happens to be the finest strategist in the Realm and will make the best decision possible. Winning battles is in his blood, after all.”
“Some say he’s a God… or some ‘chosen’ son of the Gods.” Jon looked at Edric with a sense of admiration. “I can see why they think so. What other boy of two-and-ten years has accomplished what he has? Most of your stories I found hard to believe, but seeing it first-hand… he has proven them true and more.”
He smiled, turning to Arya.
“His greatest feat, however, will be turning our wild Arya into a queen…”
Robb let out a chuckle. “Aye, that will be harder than all of his other battles.”
They both laughed about it while Arya blushed in embarrassment.
“Instead of laughing, you two should help carry the King to bed.” She crossed her arms. “It would not do anyone any good if he fell sick a second time.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Jon jested, stepping towards Edric.
Robb nodded, joining him. “See, she’s already acting a queen…”
“One day, it will be more than an act,” Jon added, shrugging. “It’s better if she gets used to it, I think.”
“Hurry up.” Arya insisted.
“At once, Your Grace.”
They took an arm each and lifted him up.
“Heavier than I thought…” Jon remarked.
“Do you need another man to help you?” Robb chuckled.
“No, I’m plenty capable.”
~
[Margaerys’ POV]
Highgarden was a more beautiful sight than King’s Landing and most definitely a place with a finer smell. She had returned home and felt better for it. After dinner, her grandmother summoned her for a more private audience in a beautiful secluded garden - one of many. A fountain stood at the centre, everflowing with water.
“So, you had a dance with the boy King, did you?” Olenna questioned, eyeing her with a strange look.
“It was not what I had in mind… not then.” Margaery Tyrell took a grape from the pile of fruits before her. “He became quite insistent, however… and one thing led to another.”
“Did you not goad him?”
“Of course.” Margaery smiled with slight bitterness. “Perhaps I was wrong to do that, after all. He remembers little of what happened, and while he might act with courtesy, I have enough reason to believe that he was not fond of the act.”
“You could not force yourself on the boy men claim to be the strongest in the Realm.” Olenna scoffed. “The boy’s twice as brazen as his father to take your maidenhead and turn the other cheek as if nothing had happened.”
“I should have been more patient.” Margaery sighed, shaking her head. “Given how he acted, I was so sure… yet Edric remains a mystery to me. Some days, he might be warm, and others - cold. His actions and words do not reflect his thoughts - not always, as they seem to change as swiftly as the sky turns dark.”
“An oaf like the rest of them.” Olenna mused with a slight smile. “What can you do? After a glorious tournament, he rode off for another quest for glory. Sooner or later, all those battles will land him in an early grave.”
“I pray not.” Margaery frowned slightly.
“Don't tell me he charmed you instead.” Olenna’s face changed as Margaery gave no reply. “So your ‘goading’ and impatience was more so of a personal desire rather than what was best. I thought I taught you better.”
“My confession to him held no falsehoods.” Margaery admitted. “I thought it might be mutual… alas, he chose duty and Arya Stark.”
“You did not do enough to convince him otherwise, it seems. How difficult is it to make a boy forget his duty?”
“That is like saying a dragon is a snake, grandmother. Edric is no ordinary boy.”
Olenna observed her expression and sighed. “The girl is plain, boyish and wild from what I've heard. The fool must be blind to turn you away. Or did he learn a little more from Renly? Perhaps he fancies that Ser Arthur…”
“I do not believe so.” Margaery found that notion rather absurd. While close, they were more akin to best friends. Perhaps even brothers. “He was far too passionate with me for it to be true…”
“... Fortunately, not all is lost.” Olenna glanced at her stomach. “If the gods are good, you will birth a son and the Realm will rejoice. It will be some years before that Stark girl will be wedded and even longer before she gives him a son of her own. Given the precedent our Storm created for himself… a bastard succeeding the crown has never been more likely.”
“And if it isn't a boy?”
“Then, all the same, you must make the most of it. It will be his firstborn either way… which men tend to be fond of. It will be a constant bridge between you and him. Given his nature, I wager he would take pride in a strong boy and spoil a beautiful daughter. No matter which, if this child is fostered to have the proper wits and the father comes to love the child, you might be queen of some sort yet… if you play the right way.”
“If he is twice as brazen as his father and believe himself to be a God, then he might take a second wife, after all. The Stark girl may encounter an accident and free his hand as well. There are many possibilities.”
“I see.” Margaery nodded, touching her stomach. She felt a stir. “He hinted at such a possiblity, yet I cannot be certain that he meant it.”
“Lead him to that conclusion if his duty is so important. Mayhaps the Faith won't turn against their self-proclaimed ‘Chosen Son’.”
“I'll do what I can.”
Though, deep down, she had wished that he would accept her without all the scheming and plotting. That was simply her duty for the betterment and advancement of her family. Yet, it needn't be so…
You took me not as someone wanting to be queen, but rather a girl who had merely fallen for you.
Had it not been for your duty and the chain your father gave you, would it still be Arya Stark wearing the laurel?
Was your drunken affection without some base of truth…
Margaery wondered to herself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Status Page
Name: Edric Storm
Age: 12
Lord
Charm: 75 (Diplomat III)
Leadership: 66 (Inspiring Leader II)
Steward: 47 (Midas Touch I)
Warrior
Athletics: 95 (Titan IV)
Battle Instincts: 79 (Hyper Focus III)
Warhammer: 73 (Thunderous Warhammer III - Warhammer blows have an even greater impact.)
Knight
Sword: 80 (Swordskill IV - Your sword is able to pierce through lighter armour more effectively, and each attack takes less stamina drain.)
Riding: 80 (Riding III)
Armour: 71 (Fortress III - Heavy armour is even more effective)
Ranger
Marksman: 112 (Sniper V)
Scouting: 70 (Scouting III)
Throwing: 83 (Throwing IV)
Smith
Blacksmithing: 32 (Blacksmithing I)
Engineering: 56 (Engineering II)
Stranger
Roguery: 23 (Serpent I)
Trade: 24 (Merchant I)
Medicine: 19
Mage
Storm Manipulation: 43 (Stormlord II: Hand of the Storm - Able to draw from elements of the Storm more naturally, especially in places where these elements are most prominent.)
Greenseer: 10
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[Edric’s POV, 1st]
“The wildlings make for good and easy experience, at least,” I said, feeling good about the surge in my marksman skill. I stared at athletics, intently. That sweet 100 was not so far away now. If I pushed myself, I might be able to reach it in this campaign…
“Anyway, what happened? Did I fall asleep?” I questioned, turning to Raiden.
“You did blank out.” She nodded. “Do not be concerned, however. All is well.”
“Truth be told, I don’t have enough time to be wasting it with those wildlings. Especially if they plan to be on the defensive…”
“You have a plan to scatter them?”
“Why, of course.” I grinned as it came to me. “Wildlings can’t unite together like this ordinarily. It’s Mance Rayder who gathered them. His strength and leadership is what keeps them. If he falls in dramatic fashion, they’ll scatter like leaves in a mighty gust of wind. It’s no different from cutting off one’s head… the rest of the body will fall with it.”
“He will be well defended, however,” Raiden remarked. “It will be a gamble to leave the defence of the Wall and attack them on land.”
“I’ll map out their camp with Freedom - if they’re still about.” I smiled, seeing the way forward. “You can’t ever prepare for a Storm.”
I’d wake to Mance Rayder sending an envoy who sent word that he wished to negotiate. Curious, I decided to hear him out. He’d leave the forest and stand right outside of my range. I’d need to get lucky to knock him down from there. Clever.
I took twenty of my best men and rode out to meet him. The rest of the stationed men were ready to act at any moment in case Mance pulls something out of his ass.
We met somewhere in the middle, with similar numbers. It didn’t look like he had come with the intention to fight. There was a blonde in his ranks who caught my eye as I realised who it was. ‘Wildling princess’ was a befitting title; she stood out like a jewel in a sea of pebbles.
[Edric’s POV, 3rd]
“So you are the King beneath the wall.” Mance Rayder stepped forward. “I trust you have some sense of honour. Enough not to strike me down here.”
“It would be the wiser course of action.” Edric raised his left hand, lightning sparking around it. This unsettled the wildling guards, some of whom raised their weapons. “No use in raising your arms, truth be told. If I wished - your corpses would be kissing the ice in just a moment.”
“Is this meant to frighten us?” Mance Rayder looked confident and unwavering, not even blinking at my little sparkles. Alas, they were but sparkles. Thunder and lightning were something else entirely.
“Don’t put up a front of confidence, ‘King-Beyond-The-Wall’,” Edric spoke the title with a tone of mockery. “You’ve doomed how many of your men already… eight thousand, ten thousand - more than that? You have no more giants to throw at the gate and no progress at all to show for this mountain of bloody sacrifice. If you kneel along with your forces, choose to submit to my peace and laws… I might just find a place for you beneath the wall.”
This suggestion seemed to shock the people behind him.
“Wildlings, past the wall?” Loras murmured in a low voice. “Your Grace… they can’t be trusted.”
“Free folk do not kneel,” Val spoke first, leading to Edric glancing at her.
“Does she speak for you, ‘King’?” He looked at Mance with a slight smile.
“Val speaks the truth.” Mance Rayder shook his head. “You can keep your laws, taxes and peace to yourself. Our freedom is not something I can give to you.”
Edric looked down at the ‘King’ with a cold indifference.
He wondered if the wildlings were worth the trouble in the first place…
Comments
Uglovas Gaming
Yeah I'll fix that
kuroo
i mean sure they are trouble, but even more trouble in the hands of the night king -> best course if action with least drama and responsibility would be promising them a peaceful leand out of the 7 kingdoms to have their freedom and then dumping them into sorthoryos or to the free cities or the dothraki sea etc...
kuroo
if he is twelve, why did Jon say "one-and-ten namesday old boy" -> it should be two and ten, no?
