Northwestern Area of the True North
POV of Domeric Bolton
Fifteen people appeared out of nowhere in the furthest reaches of the Thenns territory in the northwestern area of the True North.
Domeric quickly took note of his surroundings and realized that they had all arrived safely in the clearing he had selected for this very purpose.
It was then that he felt it.
The magic around him had deteriorated once again. It was as if someone or something was distorting the very essence of magic to bind it to its will.
He remembered feeling something similar when he and Dumbledore went to that cave filled with Inferi all those years ago. Back then, his senses were not as finely tuned as they were now, but he was sure that the sensation he was feeling with his magical sense was similar to what he felt back then when he was dragged down to the lake by the inferi.
The feeling was slightly different as the method and magic used differed, but this was definitely the taste of Necromancy.
But what could do something on a scale so large as to disrupt the magic itself?
What the hell were these White Walkers doing? He had a feeling that he didn't want to know.
If whatever magic they were using continued to gain strength, then they might be capable of resurrecting all the dead in the True North one day. Even those buried 100 feet deep in snow.
Or at least that's the conclusion he could come up with after sensing the magic around him. Considering that he was not even a novice in Necromancy, he might be wrong. But he had a bad feeling that he wasn't.
He turned around and looked at the people who had accompanied him on this expedition.
Varko, Raksa, Ygritte (because she wouldn't take no for an answer), Orell (who could control a dozen birds at once nowadays), and 10 of the best swordsmen in his army.
All of them wore magical armor that protected them from any harm, kept them warm, and relieved them of their bodily fluids so they wouldn't have to remove the armor in this freezing temperature.
It took about two weeks to make magical armor for so many people. One day for each of them, but they were here now.
And that's what mattered.
All of them were also carrying a Valyrian sword and a dragonglass dagger.
Bloodraven had informed him that only these two things could kill a White Walker. He didn't believe Bloodraven, but nonetheless thanked the old man for the information.
As for Domeric, he was carrying his Valyrian Steel Foci-Sword, Excalibur, his Goblin Silver Foci-Sword, Gryffindor, and some dragonglass daggers. He also donned his Valyrian Steel Armor for this expedition.
Normally, his Goblin Silver Foci-Sword wouldn't have been effective for White Walkers if Bloodraven's information had been accurate. But his Goblin Silver Foci-Sword had the ability to absorb other things, so he already soaked his sword in a liquid Valyrian Steel with a ritual. Now, Gryffindor had all the properties of a standard Valyrian Steel sword.
They were also carrying a bottomless pouch each, which was filled with enough food and warm water to last them weeks, along with a magical tent, some medical supplies, and a portkey to take them back to the Wall in case they were separated from the leading group.
To say that he had over-prepared for this secret venture would be an understatement, but it was better to be over-prepared than under-prepared.
"Varko." He called his second-in-command for this expedition. "Set up a parameter."
"My lord," Varko answered in affirmative and set about ordering the men to make a defensive circle around him as he sat down on the ground, took out a Valyrian Glass Candle, and dove inside.
When he came out of the Valyrian Glass Candle, he felt more magically strained than usual.
"What did you find?" Ygritte asked as she put a hand on his shoulder for comfort.
He couldn't feel her soft yet firm hands through the armor, but the gesture was still appreciated.
"Nothing." He answered, "The area in the North is totally inaccessible to me. And even if I want to see some other place, I'm restricted to an area of about 10 miles around me."
"The land of Always Winter," Orell murmured as he looked at the North with fear.
"Don't worry. We won't go to the North." He reassured the man. Besides, going there would be the height of foolishness.
Not only would it be going to the land of the enemy. He would be going there blind.
Plus, with how the magic got more twisted the further he went to the North, he was unsure if he'd even be able to use his magic in the Land of Always Winter. And even if it did, it would be very weak and not of much use to him.
"What's the plan?" Varko asked him, and he thought about what Bloodraven had told him.
Some White Walkers had already started leaving the Lands of Always Winter and venturing into the True North.
"We go South-East from here." He replied as he took out a rough map from his bottomless pouch. A map made by Bloodraven himself about the lands and the position of the Free Folk tribes in it.
He doubted that the map was as accurate now in its details regarding the position of the Free Folk as it was 5 years ago, when the Free Folk first started to migrate because of Mance Rayder. But with the semi-functioning Valyrian Glass Candle, Hedwig, and their own warg, they should be able to move around the Thenns and search for the White Walkers roaming around in the True North.
"The mission has not changed." He told them, "We're still going to find the White Walkers. We're going to kill those fuckers. And we'll still capture and take some of the Wights back to the North to reveal the truth to the world."
He said that before putting the Valyrian Glass Candle back in his bottomless pouch and looking at his people. "Let's move out."
---------------
Author's Note: You folks can also read up to +50 chapters on my P@treon Page as an early access privilege.
You can also read "+2 Free Chapter" and see some pictures as aFree Member.
www.patreon.com/vanguard_v
P@treon Page Name: V For Vanguard
Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.141: In Search of the White Walkers
Ch.142: Wights