5 In The Heart Of Wolfswood

[A/N: Hello readers, author here. I just found out that Edwyle Stark is Eddard Stark's grandfather and the current (250 A.C.)

"Lord Of Winterfell" and "The Warden Of North" . So going forward it will be Lord Edwyle instead of Kregan that's all. Cheerio~]

Lord Stark P.O.V.—

Edwyle Stark had grown weary of the endless responsibilities that came with being the Lord of Winterfell. The weight of politics, endless meetings, and the ceaseless demands of his people pressed heavily upon him. He longed for the freedom of the wilderness, the thrill of the hunt. So, on a crisp morning, he decided to escape the confines of his lordly duties and venture into the heart of Wolfswood with his loyal friend, Aryon.

The sun filtered through the dense canopy of trees, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor. The air was crisp and filled with the earthy scent of damp leaves. As they walked deeper into the woods, the cares of the world seemed to fade away, replaced by the simple joys of nature.

Edwyle revealed the sounds of the forest. The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the distant call of a wolf. He relished the feel of the bow in his hand, the weight of the quiver on his back, and the thrill of the hunt. Aryon, ever the vigilant guardian, kept pace with him, his eyes scanning their surroundings with the ease of a seasoned warrior.

They moved in silence, the unspoken understanding between them stronger than words. Each step took them further from the troubles of the realm, deeper into the heart of the wild, where a sense of freedom and adventure thrived. They were hunters, explorers, and friends, far removed from the roles they played in Winterfell.

As Edwyle and Aryon moved deeper into the forest, a group of bandits were hiding in the forest. These ruthless bandits had made the dense woods their sanctuary, preying upon unwary travelers and hunting parties.

Today they were also going to do the same when they saw two people coming inside the forest on horses. Nobles if their attire said anything. They hid themselves and sprang from their concealed positions, weapons drawn, and surrounded the two men. It was an ambush carefully orchestrated, designed to catch even the most skilled of hunters off guard.

Edwyle's heart raced as the bandits closed in, their ragged attire and menacing grins a stark contrast to the tranquil beauty of the forest. He and Aryon were outnumbered, and the odds seemed insurmountable. The excitement of the hunt had swiftly turned into a deadly game of survival.

Just as they started to fight the bandits, a figure emerged from the shadows, wearing a strange looking armor, swift and silent as a ghost. With a flourish of a gleaming strange sword, he unleashed a whirlwind of steel and fury.

He watched in awe as the stranger danced through the skirmish, his movements a masterful blend of grace and strength. The bandits, taken by surprise, faltered in the face of such a formidable adversary. One by one, they fell before his onslaught.

Edwyle and Aryon, their spirits lifted by the stranger's intervention, joined the fray with renewed vigor. Together, they fought back the bandits, who were now desperate to escape the forest they had once claimed as their own.

When the last of the bandits had fled, the three men stood amidst the fallen leaves, their breaths heavy and their faces etched with both exhaustion and triumph. Edwyle couldn't help but smile, his eyes meeting those of the mysterious stranger.

"Who are you, stranger, and from where do you hail?" He inquired.

Aryon, his breath ragged, simply nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and sorrow. It was clear that he had suffered a grievous wound in the battle, and he had not escaped unscathed.

"I come from another continent, from the other side of the world." The stranger replied, "I lost my way to Winterfell, in the midst of this forest, I saw you two getting ambushed by bandits and couldn't stand by as that goes against my code."

Edwyle regarded the man with a mix of wonder and caution. "I'm grateful for your help, and I am in your debt. My name is Edwyle Stark, 'Lord of Winterfell' and 'The Warden of North' and this is Aryon, my master-at-arms. You have proven yourself a capable warrior, and I would be honored if you would join us on our journey to Winterfell."

The man nodded, "I accept your offer, Lord Stark. As it's better to go with you as you know these lands better, also it seems our paths are now intertwined."

Aryon's condition, however, grew more dire by the moment. Edwyle cast a concerned glance at his loyal aide. "We must hurry." He said, "Aryon needs urgent medical attention. Once we reach Winterfell, he will receive the care he deserves."

With the bandits defeated and a new companion by their side, the trio continued their journey through the heart of Wolfswood, their shared adventure unfolding. The forest, once a place of leisure and escape, had now revealed its perilous side. Together, they pressed on, their destination clear: the ancient stronghold of Starks,Winterfell.