3 Chapter 3

(I'm going to switch to 3rd person solely from now on, I feel it's a lot easier to write)

A day had passed since Atlas summoned his new retinue, and life in his castle was a source of enjoyment. What was there to complain about? He had servants who adhered to his every need, and delicious meals whenever requested. 

Seated in his solar, he sketched building ideas on a piece of paper, Atlas was planning on building himself a massive city in the area, after consulting the Northern Lords of course. He didn't have to, he had the power to do whatever he wanted, but better friends than enemies, it would save him quite the annoyance in the future.

A knock was heard, and Atlas with eyes still glued to his drawing replied, "You may enter." The door swung open, revealing Liam, his head butler. "Liam, my friend, how are you?" 

"My lord, I am well," Liam's words were accompanied by a respectful bow. "Our rangers have news. A retinue of 15 men is approaching. They await your orders on how to proceed."

"Ah, speak of the devil. it must be the Starks. Have the rangers escort them here. I am eager to see what they wish to discuss."

—

"My lord, movement up ahead," a nameless soldier reported. Rickard spotted a group of five men, their impressive equipment caught his attention immediately. Shiny castle forged steel with emerald lining, it was fancier than most lords could afford. 'Definitely not bandits' he mused.

The two groups faced each other in a standoff, and a man stepped forward with an air of authority. Looking directly at Rickard, he stated, "I assume you are Lord Stark?"

In affirmation, Rickard replied, "Aye, and who are you?" The man observed them before responding.

"My name is Gerold, the Marshal of Lord Atlas' forces. I have been ordered to escort you to his castle." Rickard clenched his teeth in anger but concealed it. This area of the Wolfswood belonged to House Stark, it belonged to House Stark for centuries. Rickard was powerless against Atlas' abilities however, and knew he had to play his cards carefully.

"You are speaking to Lord Stark, Warden of the North. Show some respect," one of Rickard's guards, Rodrick Cassel, spoke up. Gerold appeared unimpressed, completely ignoring Rodrick.

"The castle is just ahead. It should take less than five minutes to arrive. Please follow me," Gerold said, turning around and walking with the other four men. A tense moment unfolded when the sound of drawn steel filled the air.

"I said, you are speaking to Lord Stark—"

"Enough, Rodrick," Rickard interrupted. "Sheath your sword." Rodrick obeyed, albeit reluctantly. "We will be right behind you, Gerold." In response, Gerold simply nodded, before once again walking. The tension lingered as the two parties prepared to embark on this unexpected encounter.

As they vaulted the last hill, they finally were able to see the castle, and what a castle it was. Before them stood a spectacle that defied imagination. An architectural marvel, loomed large against the backdrop of the Wolfswood. Its towers reached for the sky, taller than any tower Rickard had ever seen, adorned with intricate designs that he was sure even the King would be jealous of. The walls were made of stone that seemed impervious, and banners with an unfamiliar sigil fluttered proudly in the breeze. (Comment sigil ideas, as well as house names and words, I am always open to ideas)

"By the Gods," Rickard uttered, his voice echoing the awe that permeated the air. His retinue mirrored his sentiment, the collective gasp of disbelief audible. The sight before them surpassed anything they had envisioned.

Gerold, leading the way, turned back to glance at the Starks and their entourage. He wore an expression of subtle satisfaction, as if reveling in their amazement. "Impressive, isn't it? Lord Atlas has accomplished remarkable feats in such a short time." His words went unanswered besides a shaky nod, as the retinue took in the sight.

As the Stark retinue resumed their journey, Lyarra's gaze flitted between the towering castle and her husband. "Rickard, this is beyond anything we could have imagined. How did he manage this?"

"I do not know," Rickard admitted, his eyes fixed on the grand structure ahead. "But we must tread carefully. It is more apparent now than ever that he wields powers beyond our understanding."

Rickard led his retinue through the open gates, marveling at the harmonious coexistence of nature and architecture within the castle walls. Lush gardens, vibrant with colors unseen in the North, surrounded the pathway, creating a surreal ambiance that seemed almost magical, 'I guess it is magical,' he mused to himself.

Lord Atlas greeted them on the steps towards the castle. "Lord Stark it is good to see you again," he began, before turning to Lyarra and saying, "You must be Lady Stark, I welcome you both and your men to my humble abode." His voice was met with a nod from Rickard, acknowledging his words. "Did you enjoy my gift Lord Stark?" He asked, with a grin on his face,

"Thank you, Lord Atlas. I don't know if humble would be a word to describe this castle," Rickard remarked, before responding to his second sentence, "Your gift was...appreciated, I thank you for... your kindness." Rickard still couldn't believe that back in his solar at Winterfell, a full set of Valyrian steel armor awaited him.

Atlas chuckled at Rickard's words. "It is only courtesy, I am glad you enjoyed the gift. Would you wish to exchange bread and salt?"

Upon hearing his words, Rickard was confused, "You know of our customs?" Atlas signaled for one of his servants to retrieve the bread and salt before smiling at Rickard and saying,

"I have my ways." The two exchanged bread and salt, and the Stark retinue relaxed instantly, now realizing there is no danger here, "Lord Stark, Lady Stark, do you wish to discuss matters in my solar?"

"That would be swell, Lord Atlas," Lyarra spoke, and Atlas nodded.

"Liam, please offer meals and rooms to these soldiers while we have our discussion." Liam bowed in response, and Atlas gestured. "Just this way."

As they entered the castle, the tapestries lining the grand halls depicted scenes that were unknown to the Starks. Mythical creatures and landscapes unfolded in vibrant hues. The air within the castle carried an otherworldly essence, a testament to the magical elements at play.

Leading them through ornate corridors adorned with artifacts of unknown origin, Atlas finally ushered the Starks into his solar. The room exuded opulence, with a desk crafted from a wood that bore an otherworldly glow. Shelves lined with tomes that seemed to emanate knowledge and artifacts that whispered of untold stories.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Atlas invited them to the plush chairs before his desk. "Now, let us delve into the matters at hand. I am aware that the Wolfswood is territory of House Stark and Glover, I wished not to intrude. To be honest I did not know my exact location when I began building. For this you have my apologies."

Rickard and Lyarra exchanged a glance, both surprised by the humility displayed by Lord Atlas. In the grandeur of his solar, the contrast between his extraordinary abilities and the sincerity of his apology created a sense of paradox that lingered in the air.

"Your apology is appreciated, Lord Atlas," Rickard acknowledged, his voice measured. Rickard also couldn't help but notice the difference in Atlas' attitude now compared to a week ago. Atlas seemed like more of a child than anything else, but now he was acting like a true lord. The change in personalities actually perturbed Rickard a little bit. 

Atlas inclined his head, "I am grateful for your willingness to engage in dialogue, Lord Stark. Now, let us discuss the future and the potential for a harmonious coexistence."

As the conversation shifted, Atlas waved his hand, and to the astonishment of Rickard and Lyarra, a map of the North materialized before them. It was more detailed than any map they had ever seen, showcasing the intricate geography of the region with unparalleled precision.

"In exchange for an area of 100 square kilometers, here," Atlas pointed out the designated region on the map, "I offer gold, as well as my services in building any three projects of House Stark and Glovers wishes. Additionally, I extend a perpetual discount of 20% on any of my services to these houses."

Rickard studied the map, his mind processing the magnitude of the proposal. "How much gold do you offer?" In all honesty, at least to Rickard, it was a good deal, almost too good of a deal. Rickard came here expecting much, much less.

Atlas, with an air of calm assurance, responded, "I believe this should suffice." He produced five massive gold ingots, their brilliance reflecting the ambient light in Lord Atlas's opulent solar. As the ingots were offered to Rickard, he found himself grappling with the weight of both gold and decision.

The Stark lord, although accustomed to the ruggedness of the North, was no stranger to the value of gold. However, what he held in his hands surpassed anything he had encountered. Each ingot was a testament to Lord Atlas's wealth, and Rickard could scarcely believe the magnitude of the fortune laid before him. Not even the Lannister's had this much!

"Lord Atlas," Rickard began, his eyes fixed on the gold, "while grateful, my honor demands me to tell you this is too much. The area you ask for is not of much use, with nothing but a few scattered villages around. It is not worth this much."

Atlas observed Rickard's reaction, his expression remaining unreadable. "Lord Stark, I appreciate your honesty. However, the value I place on the territory extends beyond its current state. I see potential, untapped resources, and the prospect of a flourishing partnership."

Rickard, though appreciative of the acknowledgment, still couldn't shake the feeling that the offer was too generous. "Despite your words, I still fear that accepting such a substantial gift may create an imbalance in our relationship. I do not wish to be indebted beyond what is reasonable."

Atlas regarded Rickard with a thoughtful gaze, "I understand the delicate balance you must maintain. Allow me to clarify that this is not a gift burdened with expectations. Consider it a gesture of goodwill, an investment in the collaboration we are forging. Your commitment and trust are what I seek, rather than a sense of indebtedness."

As Rickard pondered, Lyarra spoke "We accept your offer Lord Atlas, however I would ask for you to make the details of this contract transparent. Our bannermen will raise questions when Houses Glover and Stark receive more gold than ever before from seemingly nowhere." 

Atlas offered a reassuring smile, "Lady Stark, I understand the importance of trust among the houses of the North. Rest assured, I am willing to make the details of our arrangement transparent. I am also open to meeting representatives of any house in order to alleviate their concerns." 

"I should warn you, the south do not take kindly to magic, and this deal will cause them to find out about your abilities. Those Andal's and their damned Faith of the Seven may go as far as to demand your head." Rickard warned,

"The distrust of magic is present in many realms, I expected as such. Your warning is noted and appreciated, but this is no cause for concern," Atlas responded, before standing up. "Are these terms agreeable, Lord Stark?" His words were accompanied by his hand outstretched, inviting a handshake.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Rickard rose from his seat, his expression thoughtful. He extended his hand, meeting Atlas's in a firm handshake. "Aye, Lord Atlas," he affirmed, the agreement sealed with the clasping of hands.

"I shall warn you, Lord Stark, I will not serve you. I will follow your laws and will do nothing to harm you or the North, but do not presume you can command me," Atlas declared, his tone assertive, showing that this was non negotiable.

Rickard, acknowledging the boundaries, replied, "Your honesty is appreciated, Lord Atlas. I will keep that in mind."

Atlas smiled in response to his words, "I will write up a written form of our agreement. In the meantime, please follow Liam here to your guest chamber. I will host a party tonight in celebration of our agreement. If you wish to participate, I shall see you then, Lord Stark."

—

'That was tiring' Atlas thought to himself, 'well at least it's over.' His solar was now silent, but that was interrupted by the sound of a raven pecking on his window. At first Atlas ignored the raven, but upon noticing the eyes of white he was instantly reminded of bloodraven, and decided to remove that headache right now.

"Well, why not?" In the realm of his thoughts, and with an imaginary keyboard before him, Atlas began to type. '/kill Brynden Rivers.' As the command was entered, he observed the raven outside immediately falling lifeless.

'Might as well get rid of the other headache too.' Once again typing '/kill @a Whitewalkers.'