Game of thrones: the Sunblode rise

Chapter 67: The Winds of Change

The Riverlands remained a beacon of stability in an increasingly chaotic realm, but Ivar Sunblode knew that peace was a fleeting illusion. Whispers of the king's journey to Winterfell and the Lannisters' machinations had reached every corner of Westeros. The truce between the Riverlands and the Westerlands held for now, but tension crackled beneath the surface, a storm waiting to break.

The Riverlands stood ready, fortified and united under Ivar's command. Yet, beyond its borders, the realm teetered on the edge of upheaval. Ivar, ever the strategist, kept his gaze on the horizon, preparing for the moment the fragile peace shattered.

In Riverrun's war room, Ivar convened a council meeting with his trusted advisors. Lysa Blackthorne, Roland Emberhill, Timothy Sunrise, and Duncan Greenfield sat around the table, the flickering light of torches casting shadows on their faces.

"Robert's visit to Winterfell is more than it seems," Lysa began, spreading a map across the table. "The Lannisters have moved subtly since Jon Arryn's death, but this visit puts them at a disadvantage. If Ned Stark becomes Hand of the King, it could disrupt their influence in the capital."

"Disrupt it how?" Timothy asked, leaning forward.

"Ned Stark is a man of honor," Lysa explained. "He won't play the game of thrones the way the Lannisters do. That makes him a threat to their plans."

"And what about Tywin?" Roland asked. "He's been quiet since the truce, but that doesn't mean he's sitting idle."

"He's waiting," Ivar said, his voice calm but firm. "For an opportunity. Tywin doesn't act without purpose. He'll let the pieces move before he makes his play."

"Then what's our next move?" Duncan asked.

Ivar studied the map, his sharp eyes scanning the routes and strongholds marked on the parchment. "We solidify our position. The Riverlands must remain unshakable. If the realm fractures, we'll need to be ready to act—not react."

The Riverlands had become a haven for refugees fleeing instability in the Reach and the Westerlands. Though the influx strained resources, Ivar saw it as an opportunity to expand the region's strength. Camps were established near the borders, and the refugees were offered work in exchange for food and shelter.

One such camp had grown into a bustling settlement, its fields filled with crops and its workshops alive with activity. Ivar rode to the settlement with Lysa and Roland, his crimson cloak billowing in the wind.

The villagers gathered to greet him, their faces a mix of awe and gratitude. A woman stepped forward, her hands calloused from labor.

"Lord Sunblode," she said, bowing deeply. "We've heard the tales of your victories. You've given us hope when we had none."

Ivar dismounted, his gaze steady as he addressed the crowd. "Hope is not enough. What we build here must endure. Together, we'll make the Riverlands a place where no one need fear hunger or war again."

The villagers cheered, their voices rising in unison. Ivar nodded to Lysa as they walked through the settlement.

"They look to you as more than a lord," Lysa said quietly. "To them, you're a savior."

Ivar's expression remained neutral. "Saviors are a luxury. I'm a leader. And leaders must be prepared to make sacrifices."

That evening, as Ivar returned to Riverrun, a messenger arrived with an urgent report. The sigil on the scroll was unmistakable: a black raven on a crimson field.

Ivar broke the seal and read the message, his expression darkening as he scanned the contents.

"What is it?" Roland asked.

"Trouble," Ivar replied. "Tywin's forces have been spotted near the northern border. It's not an attack, but it's enough to send a message."

"They're testing us," Lysa said.

"More than that," Ivar said. "They're reminding us that the lion hasn't forgotten. Tywin wants us to react, to make the first move."

"Do we?" Timothy asked.

"No," Ivar said firmly. "We hold the line. Double the patrols and reinforce the border villages. If Tywin wants a fight, he'll have to start it himself."

As the days passed, the tension in the realm grew more palpable. Ravens flew across the skies, carrying messages of alliances and betrayals. In Riverrun, Ivar continued to prepare, knowing that the storm was drawing closer.

One morning, as he stood atop the battlements, Lysa approached with a letter in hand.

"This just arrived from the North," she said, handing him the parchment.

Ivar opened the letter and read it carefully. The words were written in a neat, precise hand.

Lord Sunblode,

The King has arrived in Winterfell, and his purpose is clear. He intends to name Eddard Stark as Hand of the King. This decision will send ripples through the realm, but it is not without its risks. The North values honor above all else, but honor is a fragile shield in a world ruled by power and ambition.

Be vigilant. The winds are changing.

The letter was unsigned, but its meaning was clear. Ivar folded the parchment and tucked it into his cloak.

"What does it say?" Lysa asked.

"Confirmation," Ivar replied. "The game is moving faster than we thought. We need to be ready."

"For what?"

"For the storm," Ivar said. "It's coming, and when it does, we'll make sure the Riverlands are the ones to weather it."

That night, Ivar stood alone in his solar, the system's interface glowing faintly in his mind.

[Current Points: 400]

He accessed the store, scanning the options with precision. Each point spent was a step closer to ensuring the Riverlands' survival.

He selected:

Advanced Fortification Plans: Schematics to reinforce the defenses of Riverrun and its surrounding strongholds.

Enhanced Communications Network: Tools and techniques to improve the speed and reliability of messages across the Riverlands.

Strategic Reserve Supplies: Additional food and materials to sustain the region during prolonged conflict.

As the purchases were confirmed, Ivar felt a sense of calm settle over him. The storm was coming, but the Riverlands would stand firm.

The realm was changing. In Winterfell, a king's visit set the stage for alliances and betrayals. In King's Landing, whispers of poison and power spread through the Red Keep. And in the Riverlands, Ivar Sunblode prepared for the battles yet to come.

The winds of change were blowing, and no one—not even the lion or the wolf—could escape their reach.