9 Chapter 9
(I'm most likely going to stick with the name Frostwood. I will incorporate all your ideas into the Kingdom Atlas will build however. Thank you all for your recommendations.)
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The celebration in Winterfell's grand hall was in full swing. The air was filled with lively melodies and the joyful laughter of the guests. The long tables were adorned with sumptuous feasts, and the banners of House Stark fluttered proudly, marking the commemoration of Northern independence.
Atlas, standing among the revelers, shared smiles and pleasantries with the North's lords and ladies. Rickard, who now wore a crown that symbolized the newfound sovereignty, approached his friend. The two locked eyes, and smiled before engaging in a bear hug.
As the hall fell into a momentary hush, RIckard raised his goblet high. "To Atlas Frostwood!" he declared, his voice cutting through the festive ambiance. "A true friend, and the architect of our independence!" The hall erupted into cheers as guests lifted their goblets in unison. Atlas, standing at the center of attention, acknowledged the gesture with a humble nod, raising his own goblet in acknowledgement
"To the North!" A conviction in his voice, causing even further cheers. Rickard laughed and then clapped a hand on his shoulder before saying,
"This is your victory as much as it is ours," with a genuine warmth in his eyes. "You may not have been born here, but you are a man of the North, and you will always be a man of the North."
The celebration continued, the revelry intensified, and the North, now an independent kingdom, cheered for their triumph. Rickard and Atlas, found a moment to step outside onto the balcony which overlooked Winterfell. The crisp night air greeted them, carrying with it the distant sounds of merriment from within the hall.
Rickard turned to Atlas, a grin playing on his lips. "You know, Atlas, when you first arrived here, and when we first met, I didn't really like you."
Atlas chuckled, "I can't say I blame you."
Rickard joined in the laughter, recalling the circumstances of their first meeting, "Can you imagine my surprise when I found a stranger flying around in circles in the Wolfswood. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me."
Atlas chuckled heartily at the memory, the shared laughter creating a brief interlude of camaraderie on the balcony. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a gentle glow on Winterfell below.
As the laughter subsided, Rickard broke the quiet moment with a thoughtful question, "Where will you go first, my friend?"
Atlas, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, took a moment to consider. "Valyria," he replied, the word carrying a weight of determination.
Rickard's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then a knowing smile crept onto his face. "I would call you a madman, but now, seeing the North reborn, I would know better than to doubt you."
Atlas, chuckling at the acknowledgment, responded, "It will be a challenge, but challenges are what propel us forward."
Rickard grinned, a playful glint in his eyes, "Forward, and sometimes in circles in the Wolfswood, apparently."
Atlas met Rickard's gaze with a mock-serious expression, "That was a terrible joke Rickard."
They exchanged a lighthearted laugh, and the night embraced them in a comforting silence.
Rickard, leaning against the balcony railing, let out a contented sigh, "Atlas, I must thank you for what you have done for me and my people. Even this balcony right here, is due to your influence," placing a hand on Atlas' shoulder, Rickard had a true and genuine smile. "The North will stand by you and yours. No matter where your journey takes you, you will always have a place here."
Atlas, reciprocating the warmth of the sentiment, smiled in return. "Thank you, Rickard. The North will always hold a special place in my heart. I shall carry her spirit with me, wherever I go."
As the night unfolded around them, Rickard inquired, "You leave tonight?"
"On the morrow," Atlas confirmed. "I wish you good luck in the wars to come. I trust you'll hand it to those southerners for me."
Rickard, smiling at the jest, replied, "I will, my friend. You've done most of the work for me."
With that understanding, they settled into a companionable silence. The moonlight bathed the balcony, and Winterfell stood as a silent witness to the shared moments of reflection between two friends.
"Let us go back and celebrate, eh Rickard?" Atlas suggested, breaking the quietude with a lighthearted tone.
"Aye, Atlas," Rickard agreed, the corners of his mouth turning up in a genuine smile.
—
A small retinue of 15 men stood at the threshold of Valyria. It was a peculiar sight, the land once the center of a bustling empire now stood abandoned.
Her broken towers rose like skeletal remnants, their jagged silhouettes reaching towards the ashen sky. Once grand and formidable, the towers stood as solemn sentinels to the tragedy that befell Valyria.
The air was thick with otherworldly stillness as Atlas, the leader of this small group, surveyed across the desolate landscape. Beside him, Gerold, his right hand man, stood with a determined gaze.
"Valyria," Atlas mused, his voice carrying a hint of reverence. "I can only imagine what this city looked like in its prime."
Gerold, a man of few words, nodded in agreement. The other members of the retinue, each clad in armor bearing the sigil of House Frostwood, exchanged cautious glances.
"Lod Frostwood," said one of the men, a man named Aric, "This place gives me the creeps. It's like the very stones are mourning and screaming in pain."
Atlas acknowledged the sentiment with a solemn nod. "Valyria's history is both fascinating and tragic. This ground once witnessed the height of magic and power, and soon enough it will do so again."
Another member of the retinue, a skilled archer named Jorik, expressed his concern. "My lord, some say Valyria is cursed, and those who seek its treasures never return, is this truly wise?"
"Have faith in the Lord Jorik, he would not lead us astray." Gerold spoke sternly, his voice carrying the weight of command.
"Peace Gerold, it is a valid concern, one I will address now," Atlas responded with a calm authority. With a series of '/commands' and '/tp'. The once cursed land now seemed clear of the earlier disturbances which lingered over the area.
With each command, the once-cursed terrain began to transform. The air shafted, and gone was the cursed feeling which permeated the land earlier. The air became pleasant, although still abnormally hot. Having acclimated to the cold bite of the North, he could tell his companions were beginning to feel the heat.
In truth there were two reasons Atlas came here to start his kingdom; the first was a vain reason: he thought it was fitting with his dragons and he also thought it would be awesome. The second reason however was a more practical reason.
[Quest]
Rebuild Valyria 0/1 (Reward: Twilight Forest Mod)
Atlas idly gazed at the vast landscape, 'you know, in my over a year here, I never actually visited the Nether or the End,' he mused.
Gerold's voice broke through Atlas' thoughts, "You truly are something else, my lord." The compliment prompted Atlas to smile before he decided to shift his focus from musings to action.
"I will begin building," Atlas declared, a spark of determination in his eyes. Turning towards his companions, he noted their discomfort, sweat glistening on their brows. With a chuckle, he waved his hand, granting them heat resistance. The immediate relief on their faces was evident as they expressed their gratitude to Atlas.
"Now, you all get comfortable," Atlas instructed, the hint of amusement in his voice. The retinue, now more at ease in the challenging environment, prepared for the tasks ahead. Or rather the task of watching Atlas build… there truly was not much they could do at the moment.
—
'Okay, now for a plan,' Atlas murmured to himself as he soared through the sky, peering downwards at the landscape below.
'I should build a massive castle in the center,' he thought, envisioning the grand structure taking shape in his mind. 'And the towers could use a bit more size and height. Maybe I can make the castle situated on a floating island?' A few contemplative moments passed as he considered the possibilities.
'Yes, that's a good idea. I should start with that,' Atlas affirmed, making a mental note of his plan.
Guided by his vision, Atlas descended to the ground and began building a floating island. These were always difficult to build but it was worth it, and Atlas had experience building some in the past which made it significantly easier.
An hour or so later, he crafted a massive floating island that defied the laws of gravity. The island itself was easily double the size of his earlier castle.
'Speaking of castles, I guess it's time to get started.' As he laid the foundation for his grand castle, Atlas couldn't help but have a childish smile on his face. Even back on earth, he always found joy from building in minecraft, building in real life only amplified the joy he felt.
The castle's design unfolded with intricate details, the towers reaching towards the sky with a majestic allure.
As Atlas finished building the castle, the landscape itself seemed to transform. Gone were the smoky and ashy clouds, and in their place stood hues of blue and white. Clouds weaved around the towering spires casting shadows which danced on the structures below.
It seemed as if the landscape itself was welcoming Atlas and his builds with a warm embrace. Nature itself seemed to celebrate the addition of the castle to the land.
'It is beautiful.' Atlas mused to himself, satisfied and proud with his build.
Lush greenery interspersed with pathways and bridges connecting different sections of the castle's grounds. There's an ethereal quality to the surroundings; waterfalls cascade from the center towards the castle bottom flowing into the tranquil waters below creating a mesmerizing reflection.
The castle is a beautiful blend of gothic and futuristic architecture, with spires that pierce the skies and intricate designs that adorn every inch. Every inch seemed to come together, creating a captivating tapestry.
The build consisted of two floating islands, a slightly smaller one nestled in the center, bearing the weight of the main bulk of the castle.
It was no Valyrian castle, but Atlas wasn't Valyrian. The castle carried his own unique touch, a fusion of styles which he created himself. It actually reminded him of Asgard.
(Image of the castle)
(Name recommendations por favor, I was actually thinking of Asgard to be honest. Just for the castle by the way not the city.)
—
"The lord truly is something else," remarked Jorik, his eyes filled with awe.
"He built those massive islands and a castle, easily bigger than the castle at Avalon, and it took him less than a day?" Aric marveled.
"I believe it would be better to call him King now, he did come here to build his own kingdom." suggested a companion, Hadrian, one of the Ice Dragon Knights.
"I don't understand why Lord Atlas didn't just take over the North and the Seven Kingdoms, we all know he could've done it with a snap of his fingers. Gerold, you are the closest to Lord Atlas, perhaps you can shed light on the matter?" Inquired Jorik
"Lord Atlas has a close friendship with Rickard Stark. He respects him, and he respects history. The Starks have ruled the North for over 8000 years," explained Gerold.
A thoughtful silence hung in the air.
"I wonder what this place will look like once it is finished. I can already tell it will look beautiful," Arick mused.
"Aye, Lord Atlas has a good eye for architecture," added Hadrian.
"The best eye my friend," agreed Jorik
"You reckon Lord Atlas would summon some more people here?" Aric asked.
"Most likely. I mean, we can't populate this area ourselves."
"I wonder if he'll summon some pretty ladies, always wanted a family of my own." Hadrian said with a lustful smile.
"Do not let your mind wander from the task at hand," said Gerold.
"Come on Gerold! I know you feel the same, we could all see how you looked at Patricia back home, missing her already?" Hadrian fired back teasingly.
Despite Gerold's attempt to hide it, a small blush adorned his face, and laughter erupted among the group.
"What's this about Patricia?" Atlas, who returned quickly, inquired.
Immediately, everyone stood up, saluted and chorsued, "Lord Atlas!"
"Gerold, you should've told me you had your eyes on a girl back home, I would have brought her with me," Atlas teased.
"I—uh—My lord, that is not necessary," stammered Gerold.
"It is getting late, I have made bedrooms in the castle, you all will stay there for the night," announced Atlas
"What about you, My lord?" Aric asked.
"I will go visit the free cities with Ancalagon. I won't cause any trouble, I just wish to see some things."
"I will come with you, my lord," said Gerold.
"Mind too stuck on Patricia to be able to sleep?" Atlas once again teased, prompting another round of laughter from the group.
