Skyrim System In Westeros

All the Skinchangers of the world gathered in Winterfell, which was a highly difficult and historically significant event.

Skinchangers' abilities are awakened through ancient bloodlines, and with the exception of a few families that have married into the southern nobility, most of them follow the Old Gods and live a free-spirited life. If it weren't for the Three-Eyed Raven's opening of the inheritance, it would be nearly impossible to gather them together.

The Lord of the North, Eddard Stark, still holds enough renown to keep them in check, and perhaps it's because of their noble status that, in the raucous banquet hall, no one has yet started causing trouble.

Wright and Eddard sat at the high table. All of Eddard's children were Skinchangers, and even the youngest, Rickon, had been given a prominent seat. Under normal circumstances, he would have had to sit at the back with the two younger children of Robb.

Wright took a quick look around. Except for a few people who were absent, such as the Lord Commander of the Gold Cloaks, Jon Snow, and Ashara, who treated the direwolves like common dogs, and the Skinchangers among the Night's Watch, everyone who needed to be there had arrived.

Having gathered them together so rarely, Wright couldn't let them just eat and drink. After distributing mage badges to the Skinchangers who had chosen to remain in the North, Wright, in his capacity as Archmage, presented two joint research topics: the cultivation of food seeds and alchemical plants, and the feasibility study of integrated wooden ships.

Most Skinchangers prefer to stay in the North, isolated, and this independence often leads to trouble. The recently discovered vampire incident proved that they had developed into a well-organized faction. Wright not only aimed to eliminate this malignancy but also wanted to foster more interaction with southern mages, integrating them into a unified system.

A batch of manuscripts was handed out, and the noise in the banquet hall shifted to discussions, quieting down significantly.

"Sansa, Smalljon is a fine person, and House Amber is a loyal ally of ours." Eddard spoke in a businesslike tone as he introduced potential suitors to his daughter.

Sansa took a bite of bread. "I'm not familiar with him."

"What about Jojen Reed? He's around your age, and you studied magic together when you were young." Eddard continued, as if reading a list, this being the sixth person he had suggested.

Sansa put down her bread and looked at her father. "I know him too well. It would be awkward."

Upon hearing Sansa reject everyone, Eddard's expression showed neither disappointment nor anger. Instead, he simply picked up his cup, stood, and left, lowering his head to whisper in Sansa's ear. "My task is complete. This was your mother's request."

Robb, Eddard's son, and Geralt, Wright's adopted son, were seated side by side.

The white-haired boy next to him kept staring at his face, and Robb grew uneasy, wondering if there was food on his face. Every time he took a bite, he wiped his mouth or cheek, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.

Seran Farman, noticing Robb's unease, leaned in to ease the situation. "Geralt, Robb, I've noticed you two look somewhat alike."

Robb wiped his face and quickly brushed off the crumbs by his mouth. "Really?"

Thanks to his wife's care, Robb looked much younger than other northern nobles who neglected personal upkeep. When Eddard was thirty, he looked fifty. Robb still appeared young.

"Do you really think we look alike?" Geralt raised his hand to point at his yellow vertical eyes and flicked his white hair. He was surprised that Seran had noticed.

Geralt didn't want to acknowledge Robb. Robb not only had suspicions surrounding him but in the stories his mother had told him, they had genuinely loved each other but had been forced apart due to the Tyrosh War.

Over the past few days in Winterfell, Geralt had observed Robb carefully, and there was no sign of his mother in Robb's life. Coupled with Robb's old nickname, "Rival of the Blackwater", Geralt had concluded that this surrogate father was nothing more than a scoundrel who had deceived his mother.

"Well, your eyes... and you both use two swords," Seran said. It was more of a gut feeling than anything.

Robb didn't want to be associated with this disrespectful boy. "We both studied dual-wielding with Ashara. Years of practicing swordsmanship may have made some of our movements seem similar."

"You only learned half of it, but I got the true teachings!" Geralt grinned, squinting his eyes. He didn't hold back, directly exposing Robb in front of Seran.

Seran smiled at Robb, who remained unfazed. Ever since Ashara gained fame, many noblewomen in Westeros had taken her as a role model, and Robb often demonstrated dual-wielding techniques to her.

"We lived in Tyrosh for over half a year, you know Ashara's reckless personality as well as I do."

Robb remained calm, grabbing his wife Seran's hand. "We were young back then. She didn't understand that the fighting techniques of House Dayne shouldn't be passed on to others. Later, when she became famous, earning knighthood and a title, she became independent, and then it was okay for her to pass on her techniques."

Robb finished speaking and didn't forget to challenge Geralt with a glance, implying that the techniques Geralt learned were leftovers.

"Don't talk badly about Ashara. Her straightforward personality is quite charming." The two men were bickering, but it didn't seem like a fight would break out, so naturally, Seran sided with her husband.

Unable to win against the two of them, Geralt, with his sharp hearing, caught wind of Eddard introducing another young man to Sansa. He grinned and said to Robb,

"It seems like you don't quite approve of me, but that's fine. Sansa and I have always gotten along well, and I'm at the right age to get engaged." Geralt raised his cup in a toast to Robb. "After Sansa and I marry, you'll call me brother-in-law, and I'll call you brother!"

Seran didn't react immediately, and Robb became agitated: "What? Sansa is so much older than you! You're just a little brat who hasn't even grown all his hair yet!"

Sansa was Renly's magical apprentice and also a vassal of Wright, holding the title of lady of Creekwood. After Renly became king, Sansa's position rose even further. In the Red Keep, Sansa and Meredyth, as court mages, were among the most sought-after marriage candidates. It wasn't just about proposals; even getting in line to propose was a fiercely competitive affair.

Sansa frequently mentioned these matters in private letters to Robb, asking him to help her consider potential suitors. The woman's family hadn't made any decisions yet, and here this white-haired brat was calling him 'brother'. Robb's expression darkened.

Geralt, seeing Robb's uncomfortable face, was even more pleased: "Age isn't an issue! Ser Robb, you're a mage, so you should understand that healing spells can keep our bodies in excellent condition for a long time. In the future, Sansa and I will have many children, and they'll all call you uncle."

Robb didn't understand why this white-haired kid kept mentioning family titles. The first time they'd met, Geralt had been just a few years old, and even now in Winterfell, their interactions were barely cordial. Robb was certain they'd never had a conflict, so he couldn't understand why Geralt was deliberately provoking him.

Robb looked at his wife, Seran, who subtly shook her head. She, too, didn't know what was wrong with Geralt.

This was the Stark family castle, and as the host of the banquet, Robb had to maintain his composure. He took a deep breath and suppressed his anger: "Geralt, you're Wright's adopted son. Are all people from Tyrosh this rude?"

"I'm just speaking the truth. I've actually had a secret crush on Sansa for a long time. After I came to the North, she found out about my feelings, and we truly love each other," Geralt said, raising his hand and shaking his fist in Sansa's direction.

Robb and Seran turned to look, and to their surprise, Sansa was smiling and returning the gesture, shaking her fist three times.

Geralt grinned widely: "See, that's our secret signal between us."

"Sansa's marriage is under the control of my father. She's also my sister, and as long as I'm here, the two of you will never marry!" Robb's eyes narrowed, his wolf gaze locking onto Geralt's as he threatened him.

Robb had lived long enough to have dealt with many provocations, but those people weren't like this. Today, in his own home, a teenager was continuously challenging him, and his patience was wearing thin.

"Do you want to throw hands? I've eaten your family's salt and bread," Geralt said, raising his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. He was deliberately trying to rile Robb up.

"Robb, he's just a kid," Seran said, quickly stepping in and softly speaking as she wrapped her arms around Robb's, trying to calm him down. Seran wasn't just referring to Geralt's age; it was also a reminder that Geralt was Wright's adopted son.

"We should go greet the guests." Robb stood up, taking Seran by the hand to leave. Out of sight, out of mind. He planned to speak with Wright privately later to figure out what was wrong with this white-haired kid—whether he was simply dumb or had something else going on.

"Lord Robb Stark, commander of the Winterfell cavalry! I, Geralt of Tyrosh, formally challenge you!" Geralt stood up and yelled towards Robb. When Robb turned to look, Geralt added, "Not to a duel, just a friendly spar!"

"Dammit, this little bastard!" The banquet hall fell into an unusual silence. Wright, hearing Geralt's words, was infuriated. His earlier outburst had been directed at Eddard.

Eddard was stunned. Catelyn had been talking with Sansa and hadn't noticed Robb's situation. Not knowing what had happened, she asked Wright, "Did they have a falling out?"

"Lady Catelyn, don't worry. Geralt and Robb both studied dual-swordsmanship. There aren't many skilled dual-sword users, so Geralt just wants to spar with Robb!" Wright casually made up an excuse.

When Wright had told him about Geralt's background and left the decision of whether to acknowledge Robb up to him, it now seemed he didn't want to recognize Robb as his father.

"Robb uses two-handed greatswords, while Geralt uses a one-handed sword, right?" Eddard, an old warrior from the North, wasn't sleepy at the mention of sparring.

"Wright: "Both of them studied under Ashara."

"Oh, oh." Mentioning Ashara immediately made Eddard aware that Catelyn's gaze had turned to him. He stopped speaking, sat upright, and prepared to watch the drama unfold.

"Heh." Catelyn sneered, then ignored Eddard.

The North was known for its fierce people, and every banquet had some form of bickering. The kingdom had long banned magical duels, and mages knew it was to protect them. Magic didn't have a specific target, and there could easily be casualties. With so few mages, it was incredibly difficult to train one, and losing even one was a huge loss for the kingdom.

However, now that Wright was present, everyone knew his abilities—unless someone had their head chopped off, no one would die. After a brief period of silence, these Skinchangers saw that Wright and Eddard hadn't intervened, so they started cheering, even moving chairs and tables to clear space for the duel.

"Master Wright is here, so you don't have to worry about my safety." After reassuring a worried-looking Seran, Robb walked to the center of the hall and looked at Geralt. "I accept your challenge!"

"Good!" The crowd cheered.

Eddard turned to Wright, and after receiving Wright's promise of safety for both combatants, he stood up and signaled for the duel to begin, allowing the two to choose their weapons.

Robb said, "We're magic swordsmen, and ordinary swords won't survive our duels. Let's use Valyrian steel swords."

Geralt stepped into the center of the hall. "You should know that my Sword has special effects. Since you agree, there's no problem."

With a wave of his hand, Eddard signaled to the guards, who rushed out of the hall to fetch the weapons the two had left outside.

"I've heard that when the Sea Wraith swings, the fish in the sea jump out of the water by themselves!"

"That's true for ordinary people, but Robb is also a mage, so the sonic disturbance will have little effect. Ice, on the other hand, has a powerful force, while the slender Sea Wraith won't have the upper hand."

"I bet five golden dragons on Robb winning. No matter how strong Geralt is, he's still too young and lacks experience."

"I bet six golden dragons on Geralt. Although I don't know much about his magic, I've heard he's killed quite a few people. You shouldn't underestimate someone taught personally by Lord Wright."

The discussions were reasonable, with everyone offering their insights. Even Eddard and Catelyn, who had been listening, started to worry, fearing Robb might lose to a half-grown boy.

Robb had never told Catelyn about his training in King's Landing, but she'd heard rumors about the brutal training, and though no one died, she didn't want to see her son's guts flying onto the chandelier only to be pulled back and shoved into his stomach.

Worried about her son, Catelyn started analyzing his opponent.

Robb was tall and strong for his age, while Geralt had just recently grown tall and appeared frail, though he was half a head taller than Robb. Catelyn observed that both had their advantages, but after a closer look, she noticed something odd. "Why do they look a bit alike?"

Women's intuition is terrifying, and Wright quickly added, "It's because they look alike that they will fight to determine who's superior!"

When the guards brought in the four swords, Wright thought of something else. "Robb, come here."

Robb, who was warming up and unsure of what Wright wanted, thought that Wright might want him to hold back a bit and give Geralt some face. He approached Wright and asked, "Master, is there something you want to say?"

Wright quietly reminded him, "I forgot to mention—Geralt originally practiced the orthodox Five Magic Arts. Later, he switched to your Magic Martial Arts system, so his magic is similar to yours. He's not just skilled with weapons, but his magic is almost on par with yours!"

"Then I don't need to worry!" Robb smiled, realizing that knowing his opponent's techniques would put him at ease. Before, he had been concerned about any hidden tricks Geralt might have, but now he was confident he knew them all.

"After the Trial of the Grasses, Geralt has much more magical energy than you! He might lack experience fighting, and his martial arts may not be as refined as yours, but after drinking a special potion, his strength and agility will increase far beyond yours by several times! Be careful!" Wright didn't want his eldest disciple to be publicly defeated by Geralt and embarrassed in front of everyone.