(Author's Note:)
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Real quick, I'm actually running out of content for this arc, the plan was to have each chapter to be unique but what's ended up happening is more thoughts and less dialog and it's essentially rinse and repeat, so since I really can't put in the content slated for the next two arcs into the remainder of the Artificer Arc, I'm just going to skip the remaining chapters for now and will eventually when I've recovered merge the content into either a single chapter or a pair of them if we can exceed the max word count cap I set per chapter enough. Fair warning though we'll be skimming a fair amount of it because I just don't have the mental strength right now with this damned concussion. Never should have made this arc so damn long, which is unfortunate because we're at what would have been the most important materials by this point.
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(Lord Osric Stark, Heir to Winterfell POV)
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Oh how he'd missed Winterfell, the trip to Karhold had given him the most important materials of Beskar, Vibranium, Adamantium, and Isotope-8. The Isotope-8 would be used in microscopic amounts because of how broken it actually was, it pushed things to their absolute limit, and he'd use enough to maximise the strength and thermal resistance as well as the weightlessness. Considering everything he'd found, with the Silverite, Nevarrite, Stormheart and Pyrophite found at Runestone being Fade-Touched, amplifying the effects of the respective ores and he acquired another source of fuel in the form of….
Energon.
Yeah, somehow the transformers lifeblood was in Planetos.
What the actual fuck?
He was planning on creating Gaatlok, but honestly he might not have too. Well actually, no, he did, Gaatlok had two forms he knew of, Liquid and Powder form. As a Liquid, together with Energon and what he'd found at Stone Hedge and Raventree Hall and what would be found at Sea Dragon Point and Stony Shore, he had pretty much everything he needed now and the Powder form made other things also a more realistic possibility. Which made the fact that, aside from the servants of Winterfell and his father, but Tywin Lannister himself was present, all the more fun.
He'd chosen to shift gears a little bit, he couldn't put hands on Joffrey just yet, same couldn't be said for the Kingsguard and Red Cloaks though. He didn't want his father to die, but he needed certain events to occur, and unfortunately the Illborn ordering his fathers death was one of them. Because the moment his father was arrested and word arrived, the Ravens would fly and the banners called and Osric would be at King's Landing very quickly.
''Father, I have everything I need to begin, but not everything I need to finish. There are materials at Sea Dragon Point and Stony Shore that I'll need later for eventual quality enhancement.'' Osric said with a slight bow.
''Your supplies have arrived and are ready for you, though we have a guest who would like to speak with you.'' Father to his credit does not discuss the wolves, but no doubt Arya will at some point.
''Lord Tywin, I'd say I was surprised, but that would be a lie. Give me some time to ensure everything I need is here, I'll begin my preparations immediately.'' Osric said before turning back to his father. ''The King's about a two day ride away. Could be here by tomorrow if they push it.'' He added.
''You said you planned to link up with him.'' Father reminds.
''Plans changed, I refuse to be slowed down by unnecessary baggage.'' Says Osric.
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(POV Shift: Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock)
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As he'd expected, Osric Stark was truly a northerner. Blunt, direct, to the point, and as reported by his spies, impatient. He wouldn't prove too difficult to remove from play if it came to war, tactically speaking. It obviously would be difficult to do if he could produce swords, shields, armor and equipment superior to Valyrian Steel but an Army was only as strong or terrifying as it's commander.
It grated on his pride to be dismissed so easily, but the boy was young, and he'd learn in time. Eddard Stark was not the kind of man to raise a disrespectful heir, even if the Lord of Winterfell was an honorable fool.
Still, the heir might be able to be manipulated and if couldn't then the men he surrounded himself with just might.
Time would tell…
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(POV Shift: Lord Osric Stark, Heir to Winterfell)
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Osric had spent the entire day prior building his forge, luckily the Old gods had smiled upon him and made the first part easy on him. This would be a temporary forge for now, and from it he'd forge his proof of concept blade. Arya had yet to pester him about the wolves, but he did not doubt that as soon as the heat from the forge had cooled sufficiently, she'd find and pester him.
The King was expected today, and he was no doubt going to want to see Osric's skills as a smith, which is how it came to be that he'd smelted a pot of doonium, Phrik, Blackrock Ore, Vibranium, Meteorite Steel, Depleted Promethium, Dionesium, and Silverite, with Lyrium as a strictly non-magical metallurgical bonding agent and using Energon, Elementium, and Lyrium later for quality control runes. Using the Pine Nuts from Deepwood motte to make a nice thick oil, and infusing it with Lyrium Extract gave him just the right thing to cool the temperature since he'd gathered snow from outside to help with it. As it stood, this sword would do the job he needed it to do.
''Lord Osric the King will be within the next few minutes.'' Osric waited until he had finished engraving the runes onto the Blade before turning to the guardsmen.
''Inform my Lord father I'll be out when I'm finished, I have one final touch to add to the blade, but the Demonstration requires the family blade Ice.'' He turned around at that point, didn't even give the man a chance to respond, before he increased the temperature of the nearby bubbling vat of Energon, Elementium, and Lyrium, increasing it to boiling temperature as he began mixing it. He was tempted to add Uru for extra strength in the retention of runes, but honestly, this is the blade he'd be giving to Tywin Lannister, and he had no interest in giving the Lannisters more power than necessary, not that the old lion needed to know that. He still planned to overcharge the man a considerable sum, and was relying on the Crown Shit to raise it higher.
He would ask for four million, but settle for three, and if the Illborn succeeded in Osric's expectations, He'd overcharge Tywin seven million Gold Dragons.
''Huh, looks like it's ready.'' He noted as he proceeded to carefully pour the mixture into the engravings before taking up his enchanting hammer.
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'You've got fat.'' He heard King Robert say as he began to open the door to join the rest of his family. Osric decided against joining at that point. No, he'd let the scene play out for now. Right now he needed to smelt the first component of Basilica.
The skeleton.
Adding powdered Obsidian to the vat, Osric pours in oil, a bit of charcoal, a lump of Iron Sand, and a single vial of concentrated Lyrium and Isotope-8. 95% Lyrium and 5% Isotope-8 to be exact. It will take about an hour before he can add the Beskar, Adamantium, Blacrock Ore, and Doonium, but it would be about an hour and a half before he would, because of it being the most optimal moment to do so.
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(POV Shift: Lord Eddard Stark, Lord-Paramount of the North)
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''Now, tell me about your boy. I couldn't help but notice that he was absent when we arrived.'' Robert said after making his offers.
''Osric is blessed in ways that defy belief; he has skills and knowledge that he otherwise would not or should not have. His strength is comparable to yours when you fought at the Trident, but his mind is stronger still, but not half as great as his temper when provoked. He and his friends beat up every adult man in the Winter Town, starting in the Brothel.'' Ned says.
''We've heard the stories, even if I find his claims of being able to forge blades better than the Dragon cunts somewhat dubious.'' Robert admits.
''We'll find out soon enough. Just before you rode in, I sent a guard to fetch him. The guard said Ice would be needed for the demonstration and Osric would come when his sword was ready.''
''Then let's not keep him or that miserable old cunt Tywin waiting.''
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(POV Shift: Lord Osric Stark, Heir to Winterfell)
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''By the God's boy.'' Osric tried not to smirk at the look of shock on the faces of Tywin Lannister, King Robert, Ser Garlan Tyrell, Lord Mallister, Ser Rodrik, and his father's faces.
Father held the hilt of the Stark's ancestral sword in his hands, but that was the only thing he was really holding as everything above the guard had been cleanly severed.
Ice was no more than it's hilt now, the blade was worthless…
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(Author's Note)
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And with that, we're done. In the end, decided to close out the arc with this chapter, really not in the mood to continue it, considering I went apeshit shortly after starting this chapter, and that's actually an understatement. I'm normally a lot more restrained, but my irritability just boiled over today. It's been building for about three weeks since I told my mom and brothers they weren't welcome in the house until they apologised, so I'm taking a week off from everything causing me stress, which gives me about five days' worth of writing to do hopefully.
Anyways, that skeleton is the only thing we'll be revealing regarding Basilica until it's time to reveal. The funny part is I got the name and Idea for Basilica from the lips of Tywin Lannister himself and that's all I'm saying about it. Thankfully this chapter is at least 65 to seventy piece dialog for a change, and with that, untill the next chapter. Hope you've enjoyed this latest one.
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