Lakewood; The North; third moon of 98 AC
Arron of Skagos l
The verdant meadows of the southeastern chunk of the North, in some parts covered by a shallow snow carpet, were a sight to behold to anyone who appreciated sightseeing and nature as a whole. The large fields mingled, separated, and mingled again with rolling hills and small forests; the cool winds, neither too cold nor warm, shook the trees and the grass from time to time.
The Sun was getting up when Arron of Skagos, a full-fledged mage, started one more day of his pilgrimage throughout the eastern part of The North; Arron was slowly moving towards the Neck where he would be staying to help on the construction of the canal, but on his way down to the Neck, Arron would stop by some villages, settlements, and towns and offer his services. On the four moons he's been pilgriming, Arron had helped deliver seventeen babies, healed more than fifty people, "blessed" countless farming fields, enchanted many hunting bows, broke two curses, and killed many bandits and lawbreakers.
The people heard of the court mages from their lords' households or from merchants who visited their settlements from time to time, which made the average Northman less distrustful than they would generally be of strangers.
The road Arron walked was one of the hundreds of new roads that would eventually connect somewhere on the Kingsroad, which made navigating through the north less dangerous. Arron had seen a wagon coming from a town he would stop next to eat; the town wasn't a big one, nor was it a small one; it was built in the proximities of a large lake with green waters, a little more than thousand people lived there, the houses were old but well kept, there was a town square where a few men sold goods and a large inn in the center of the town.
Arron was wearing a College of Winterhold's robes, with the sigil of House Dovahkiin and Stark on it as demanded by all mages not sworn to any House or castle; a brown Owl sat calmly on his shoulders nipping his ears affectionately from time to time.
The townsfolk immediately saw the strange man on strange robes, and his strange Owl, the sigil of House Stark and Dovahkiin on his robes were not lost on them; many were confused as to why would a man wear two sigils at once, but none was brave enough to ask. The mage calmly walked towards the inn; he tipped his head to the men he walked past as the nor
The Inn was cozy inside, a large fireplace on the back warmed the whole place, and the old tables and chairs were well-cleaned, which made the old inn quite charming in Arron's opinion. A few people were eating at the tables, most just looked at him for a moment, but thankfully their eyes didn't linger for too long. Arron saw a man, who he assumed to be the innkeeper, behind a counter cooking a meal. Arron calmly walked toward the man and offered him a smile
"Greetings, Goodman! D'you have food for a hungry traveler?" Arron asked; his northern accent seemed to calm the man.
" Aye… but ain't nothing free here! Why d'yer wear two sigils? Are you half stark.. half Skagossi?… m'lord" The man asked, his voice a little apprehensive at the end
" Nay… I'm not a Lord. I'm a wandering mage from The College of Winterhold." Arron said, and he saw the man's eyes widen comically.
" Ah!! Yer one those that took over from the Maesters! Filthy Andal spies," The man said as he spat on the floor; his distaste for the south shone as bright as the most potent spells demonstrated by the Archmage. Arron noticed some of the people in the inn were paying attention to their conversation, many spat on the floor as the innkeeper did
" How'd you know that? I didn't know the Maester's betrayal was known to all." Arron said, and the man nodded
" This town be the second biggest town in Lord Flint's territories; many bards and merchants spread the word about the Andals spies here," The man said, and Arron nodded " The mages are good; it's said no Lady or their children died in the birth bed last year because of them. Widow's Watch mage used his magic on our fields! We even have crops to trade with the Winter Dragon's ships now!" The man completed.
" My Lord Dovahkiin is the Archmage; he trained us to help the people of the North… he's a good Lord," Arron commented as he placed three copper coins on the counter. "I'll have some of that porridge you cooking."
The man's eyes widened so much they threatened to jump off his face
" You learned under the Winter Dragon? They said he curred the King's daughter from the greyscale!! Is it true he hides a dragon bigger than those of the south???" The man inquired as he grabbed a bow of porridge and a spoon and gave him
" Aye for the first question! Archmage Dovahkiin is the greatest mage of all time; he can cast spells so powerful that sometimes I think he is half-god." Arron said as he grabbed the bow and took a spoon of porridge. "but he doesn't ride the biggest dragon; Lady Dovahkiin does; her white dragon can fit tree unicorns in its mouth with no issue. It's bigger than the black dread itself!" Arron said excitedly.
" Aye… so it's true then." The man said, and Arron nodded
" Why are you wandering about? I thought the mages served a castle, like the Maesters," The man inquired once again
" I'm going to the Neck… I intend to serve as a healer to the giants down there… they are building something there, a Canal." Arron answered.
" So the giants are in the neck as well? What's a canal" The man asked; the construction in the neck seemed to be common knowledge at this point, as it should; the amount of work generated by the construction of the canal was not something to be underestimated, especially when sanctioned by the Stark of Winterfell.
" Canal is a man-made river…. It will help Lord Manderlyn and Dovahkiin's ships to cross to the Sunset sea to fight the Ironborn curs should they ever attack," Arron said, leaving the part about trade deals and those things out as it wouldn't matter to the people to this town. The man's eyes shone with glee; he grabbed a mug he was apparently drinking before and raised it high in the sky
" May the Old gods bless House Dovahkiin and Manderlyn!!" The innkeeper said, and most men inside the inn raised their mugs as well
"Aye!" Some shouted
Arron observed and noted to himself how the hate for everything Ironborn was strong, even in the easternmost parts of the North.
The Inn went quiet for a few seconds before the Innkeeper decided to try his luck
" Listen, Master mage. D'you require payment for your services?" The Innkeeper asked calmly.
" Aye… if the service is for a person, it would cost you between 50 copper groat to 3 Silver stags. If the service is for a whole town or village, like enchanting a field or weapon, then it can vary from 30 Silver stags to 3 gold dragons." Arron said; the young mage was always uncomfortable to charge for his services, however not taking payments would make the people distrustful of him; no one worked for free in Westeros, and taking a coin payment meant Arron and the other mages wouldn't ask something nefarious as payment after the service was done, at least that was how the ordinary person's mind saw it.
" That's… cheaper than I thought…" the innkeeper said, his voice showing his suspicion like an open book
" I only charge half of the real cost… House Dovahkiin or Stark pays the other half. Just so all villages and towns can actually be helped by us mages." Arron said, and the Innkeeper nodded
" Aye… House Stark has always been good to the North… it makes sense the Starks of Winterfell would help us once again." The Innkeeper commented lightly, and once again, Arron made a note to himself; of how well-loved the Starks were in the Northern mainland.
Of course, it was a lie; House Dovahkiin and Stark wouldn't pay him the other half, for there was no other half; Arron felt dirty taking coins from desperate people for jobs that would cost him little time or effort, as were most of the cases. Arron wouldn't piss on Lord Ragnar's mercy and kindness by exploiting poor people; neither Arron nor any mage had to pay to learn at the college.
" How much would it cost for you to stay two more weeks here and help deliver my daughter's baby?" The Innkeeper asked
" Why would you need me to help? Midwives usually do a good job delivering babies. Is your daughter sick?" Arron asked, not quite sure about what to do.
" She ain't sick… she's just too weak, always been too weak, she can barely walk without getting tired. I fear she ain't make it, master mage." The Innkeeper said, and Arron nodded.
" The price will be 40 copper stars and a free stay in the inn… if she gives birth before the end of the first day of the second week, then it will cost you two stars less…." Arron said calmly.
" Thank you, master mage. I thought of taking her to Widow's watch, but the way there is long, and there are some thieves on the road there." The Innkeeper said
"What is your name, good man?" Arron asked
" Me name's Torgen of Lakewood, son of Jon of Lakewood." Torgen of Lakewood answered.
" Then we do have a deal… Torgen of Lakewood." Arron said as he gave the man an smile.
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A/N: Hello there my friends! Sorry for the delay… A LOT of shit happened to me this week… family related stuff. It's a lot better right now but things are still kind difficult. This chapter is what I could write… it was supposed to be bigger, showing the difference between a "big town" reception and expectations and a small remote village with extremely wary people… I'll do part 2 later on.
Thank you for your support.!