[Chapter Size: 3500 Words.]
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Thrid Person POV
Westeros, 296 AC.
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While Arctic was in the midst of new steps toward development, the South seemed quite agitated; Westeros was not doing well at all. The events that had until then been discussed by the nobility began to spread among the common folk.
More and more people in Westeros were learning about the events in Oldtown on one hand, and the defeat of the royal fleet and the fall of the king on the other. The terrifying fleet coming from beyond the Wall began to bring fear to the hearts of everyone in the Seven Kingdoms.
"They killed the High Septon!! They are against the Seven!" exclaimed a septa in a small village in the Riverlands.
"They are demons from the North, coming to destroy us!" shouted a sailor after witnessing the Articans in action at a port in one of the Stormlands' cities.
"I heard our glorious king was beaten up by Ned Stark's bastard son! Hahahaha," yelled a drunkard in the middle of the tavern.
"Watch your words, fool, do you want to die hanged?" the tavern keeper warned him.
In many septons nearby, people began to pray, hoping the war would not reach them, especially by a group that had been unbeatable at sea.
"Will our lords do nothing against the savages from the North?!" someone demanded.
"Savages? I've heard they live better than most common folk," a woman said.
"Maybe we should go there... maybe they'll accept us," another person spoke, more out of desperation for food than reasoning.
"You're crazy if you think we can just sail through the rough seas like that..." another farmer mocked.
"Let me tell you a song about the Artican company!" spoke a bard in a town in the Vale of Arryn.
"Hey, I thought he was going to sing a song speaking ill of them, but he's praising the savages from the North!"
"Call the guards!"
"You're arrested!"
"Wait, I'm just singing a song!" the bard tried to argue as he was taken to jail.
People speaking ill and some even seeing the Artican group in a good light, although the latter was quite rare, was spoken throughout Westeros in these weeks.
As for the nobility, they were in a different situation; regardless of what they thought, letters circulated among all houses, declaring the Articans as enemies of the Seven Kingdoms until further notice, while a call to arms had begun among all houses.
"We certainly won't send any soldiers," Doran commented as he looked at the letter. He might have been offended by Jon's letter when he refused his offer, but he couldn't deny it was satisfying to hear that the fat man sitting on the Iron Throne got beaten up badly after a great defeat at sea.
"Are we staying neutral?" his son asked.
"Yes... We should worry about the coast; the Ironmen might become bold since two huge fleets in Westeros were destroyed a few weeks ago," he said eventually as everyone nodded, his gaze fell on Nyra, who seemed to avert her gaze hiding something, something Doran already knew, but did not interfere due to this being his best card.
At Storm's End, Renly arrived after returning from Oldtown, slightly shaken by what Jon Arctic, the man who had calmly talked with him a short time ago at Highgarden, had led his men to a massacre and takeover of one of Westeros' most important cities.
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Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic - ASOIAF/GOT
Fanfiction"This is the first time I've ever written, decided to translate this fanfic and finish it." Jon Snow, a boy destined for a life of contempt by almost everyone around him, but a divine intervention can change everything. The boy who will pave the way...
