The Northern Tyrant [Game Of Thrones]

He smiled and pressed his chin into her hair, just breathing and silently calming in her warm presence. At the same time, he stared at the cradle, the Tyrant's Squire screen in front of him.

[Aslan(Bastard) - Rhaella Targaryen

Life Points Available - 10]

There were ten points available, and he allotted them.

[Strength - 5+1/10

Dexterity - 1+1/10

Intelligence - 0+2/10

Charisma - 8+2/10

Vitality - 6+4/10]

Wylis decided to put two into Charisma and max it out. He reckoned that since it was so close, it made sense. Then, he maxed out Vitality for one simple reason. Because Rhaella couldn't have more children, he knew it would break her if something happened to Aslan. Finally, he gave some to Intelligence, Dexterity, and Strength. Already, the boy was in a completely different class.

In fact, the boy was even above Magnus in Strength, Charisma, and Vitality.

Truly a blessed one.

Finally, he closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.

####

A week later, Ramsgate,

Ting!

[Side Quest Completed - An Empire Was Born

Description - Every journey begins with the first step. You have taken the first step to seize the world's wealth.

Goal - Establish ten factories.

Reward - Factory Worker Management Skill: Know who to place where.]

Wylis relaxed back in the large chair of his top-floor solar in the tower. It was airy with the windows open, and plenty of sunlight fell inside.

He was in a trance, staring at the screen. The Side Quest had been completed, and the reward was exciting. Since it was never established how big the factories had to be, Wylis believed it just meant ten buildings in the industrial district, where each produced a different thing. And since the metalworks sub-district was nearing its completion, he had set up a small building each for horseshoe, nails, weights, and such.

And now, the quest was complete.

This feels… amazing.

It was somehow connected with the Fief's Map, and it allowed him to find the best workers for each role in his owned trades. Sadly, it only worked on folks already working for him in those factories. He could easily tell who should be a blacksmith, who should be keeping the ledgers, and so on.

If I get the reward for this.

Quickly, he opened the Fief's Map and looked at the details about Ramsgate. Since months had passed since his return from Winterfell, much had changed.

[Land - 40,280 acres.

People - 9,986

Garrison - 503 Men

GDP - ??? Golden Dragons

Industries Main - Timber, Fish, Ice, Gold, Food

Cities - 0

Town - 1

Villages - 13

Ships - 40

Fleets - 0

Horses - 899

Cows - 2,043

Sheep - 13,767

Goats - 5,009

Super Chicken - 1,081]

Ignoring the increase in livestock, he noticed the addition to Industries. Food and Gold had appeared on it, meaning it was now significant. His Garrison as well, increased from over a hundred to over five hundred now.

But the most significant increase was in the population. It now sat at 9,986, just fourteen away from reaching ten thousand, which would trigger a quest reward. One that he had been desperately needing. Reaching this population wasn't easy to begin with, but it appeared his plan of inviting the poor and orphans from across Westeros had worked. Moreover, some had come from the Winter Town.

With great hope, he looked at the quest in question.

[New Chain Quest (0/5) - A Tyrant's Lair

Description - A Tyrant's throne is heavy, and the more hands there are to carry it, the higher the throne shall rise. Raise Tyrant's Fief's population to 10,000.

Reward - Talent Hunter: There could be hidden ship captains, blacksmiths, economists, and healers amongst the poor by fate. Find them with ease.]

It was a reward worthy of salivating. He imagined being able to instantly know the talent of each resident of Ramsgate. Being able to place the right people in the right places was something that could make or break a city.

But this is only the first level. What's the reward for the next level? Maybe it will allow me to know the talent of everyone in the entire North. By the third, half of Westeros... or even the whole realm. That would be fantastic.

The great thing about Ramsgate was that there was a job for everyone. He was working on so many things that talent was needed in every field. He had plenty of jobs for ten thousand people. Half of them were currently working to extract gold from the river, however.

Normally, nobles wouldn't show such haste to extract gold. They would do it slowly and use it wisely. However, extracting gold from the river meant nothing to Wylis but a simple quest goal. The real goldmine for him was the reward. The resource map of the entire North.

Still, he wasn't one to hate gold. His coffers were brimming, and he had built a special, enclosed dungeon room in his castle that could only be accessed with Earthbending or a special route of digging. Inside, he'd kept half a million Gold Dragons worth of gold ingots. It wasn't meant to be touched outside of emergencies like sudden wars, famines, and others. It was his own secret gold reserve.

Getting too excited, he took a deep breath and glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner. It was late in the morning, and he was waiting for Barbrey and Brandon to arrive.

Knock! Knock!

Right then, the door opened, and Brandon walked in, as jolly as ever, but now with a bigger grin on his face. The man had every reason to be happy now.

"Gods, it's a fine bright day, Wylis! What do you say we have another go at dueling? This time in full fucking armor!"

Wylis scoffed. "You can't best me, Brandon. And though you're my brother, I will never promise Arthria's hand to your lad."

That was the thing between them. Ever since Lady Barbrey had birthed a strong, dark-haired boy, Brandon had been trying to fix the babe with Arthria. Wylis was against it, as he was against all betrothals. He didn't believe in that nonsense and wanted his children to choose their own partner.

"That's enough, Brandon. We aren't here to discuss that," Barbrey interrupted, walking in her usual, heavy, robbed attire. But now she held a babe in her arms. The name was Rickard, and Wylis didn't like it. It was too ordinary and… he didn't like Lord Rickard either.

"Aye, fine then. Gods, I've no wish to linger and hear you two yammer about trade. I'll sort the carriage and round up the men," Brandon grumbled and left just as fast as he'd arrived.

Wylis shrugged and gestured for Barbrey to take a seat. Since the chair was designed by him, it had wooden wheels under it. Without much effort, he dragged his chair to the fireplace nearby and grabbed the kettle hanging inside.

Finally, he grabbed two upside-down cups made of actual glass from the right cabinet of his table and placed them on the table. He filled them both, pouring warm, sweet cinnamon-flavored milk. It was his favorite drink, and whenever he worked in the solar, he prepared a kettle of it for himself.

"I will never understand how a man with your martial fame prefers milk over wine," Barbrey commented, gently swaying the babe in her arms.

Wylis let out a loud laugh. By now, he thought of the woman as a sister. "Too much wine makes men impotent, Barbrey. Why do you suppose so many southern nobles find it difficult to sire children?"

Barbrey hummed, frowned, and then hummed again. "That… is quite an observation. I cannot decline it since I know a few such nobles in the South."

Wylis jerked his head in the 'told you' manner and pushed one glass to her. "So, what can I do for you? Just for the fine Ryswell mares you let me have, I owe you. Caliburn is already at work."

"Much as I might enjoy talk of my parental house, I came to discuss Barrowton. My marriage to Brandon will cause immense political trouble. My son is trueborn, born after our wedding, and he carries the Stark name."

Wylis nodded, sipping. In fact, he had already thought of this years ago when he nudged Brandon to go and reunite with his old lover. The impact of their son's existence was going to strengthen House Stark beyond any Lord of Winterfell had achieved in the past since the Winter Kings.

Barbrey went on. "Rickon has a rightful claim to Barrowtown as my son, whatever name his father bore. When he takes the seat, I'll see that he takes the Dustin name as well. Yet I fear the rest of House Dustin will not accept it so readily. William's uncles will be enraged. They will believe their ancestral home has been handed to House Stark. They will see it as a bloodless usurpation. And I fear they would be right."

Ting!

Huh?

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