Chapter 3: Learning the System Pt.1

Looking about where he now found himself in, Jon let out a sigh of relief when he saw that he was back where he started from. The first floor of the crypts where the recent Lords of Winterfell were buried.

He glanced over at his grandfather and uncle and aunt who passed away thanks to the Targaryen madness, and gave them a silent prayer before he moved on.

"Finally, I am out of that hellscape!" Jon exclaimed as he slowly got up on his feet expecting the burning aches and pain. However, nothing! He felt no pain or discomfort at all. Touching his face, it did come away with blood, but he didn’t feel the long gashes he was expecting from his face.

Looking over at his shoulder then his chest, Jon also saw no wounds. Then he hesitantly touched his rib, and came away with no pain. After that, he just wryly shook his head, and thought fucking system and its sorcery! Why didn’t it heal him when he was in unbearable pain.

Still he was glad for it all, he didn’t know what he would be telling Maester Luwin when he came to him all battered and injured. Just then, he got more prompt from the system.

Congratulations, you have completed the quest ‘Escape the Ancient Dungeon of the Kings of Winter!’

Rewards Gained!

Map of the crypts, and 500 EXP!

Jon let the prompts side over him, and took a moment to just take a breather now that he was finally out. However it seemed like it wasn’t to be as someone must have heard all the ruckus going on back here and came inside to check.

There were two of them, household guards of his family and when they saw him they stared at him as if they had seen a ghost. Jon noticed over their heads it read;

Stark Household Guard - Lv. 4

Stark Household Guard - Lv. 5

One of them finally perked up and said, “Is that you, Jon?”

“Oh, Eric is that you? Good to see you,” Jon smiled at the young guard, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“Where have you been?” the other guard asked. “Lord Stark has set out a manhunt for you after you had gone missing for the whole day!”

‘So I have been gone a whole day!’ Jon thought to himself. He could see how that was possible, but still he needed to come up with an excuse quick. “I have been here the whole time,” Jon replied. “I think I knocked my head over one of the statues, and was knocked out cold the whole night!”

“Really?” the same guard asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. “And what happened to you?” he waved in his general direction.

Looking down at himself, Jon knew he was in a sorry state to begin with even if all his wounds got magically healed. His tunic was ripped just about everywhere and he was covered in blood as well. He still held the iron sword in his hand and the torch that had long gone out, basically he looked like some bandit or wildling!

“Ahh, that,” Jon said, “I guess you could say I had a tussle with a rat I ran into.”

“Sure,” the guard said.

“Milord would like to see you right away, Jon,” Eric spoke up.

“Sure no problem, but first let me clean up and make myself look presentable before I meet my Lord Father!” Jon said.

“Fine, but we will be coming along with you,” the other guard said, very suspicious of him and clearly not wanting him out of his sight once they found him.

Seeing no problem, Jon just shrugged his shoulders and let them follow after him as he headed to his own quarters. It didn’t take long for him to clean himself up, and change into a new pair of clothing. He glanced down at his old tunic and knew that it was beyond fixing and tossed it to the side.

“Alright, let’s go,” Jon said to his two new sentries once he came out of his room.

Winterfell was a huge complex castle spanning several acres with two massive walls protecting it, and it was composed of dozens of courtyards, towers, and buildings with hundreds of different souls calling it homes. To reach the Lord’s Tower which was near the Great keep, they had to pass through one of the central courtyard where the training yard was.

“Jon, is that you?” someone called out. Turning around, Jon spotted his brother Robb running up to him, and that is when he recalled what set into motion this whole ordeal.

Robb was everything a young lord was supposed to be with his wide friendly smiles, well-build figure, bright blue eyes and thick dark auburn hair. Now Jon got to read his personal information.

Robb Stark, Young Wolf & Heir to Winterfell

Lv. 9

“Are you alright?” the young man asked once he came within speaking distance.

It took a moment for Jon to replay as he looked over his brother’s information. He wondered why the hell he was at a higher level than him, no better yet why was everyone higher than him. He recalled that he was at level 2 which was just pathetic compared to everyone else.

What was he, only stronger than rats and insects?

Besides that he could understand the other stuff by his brother’s name. Some jokingly called him the young wolf like they called his father the silent wolf. The other euphemism was all but clear, Robb would always be the heir to Winterfell.

“Yes, everything is fine, Lord Robb,” Jon answered, making sure to emphasize that last bit.

And Robb seemed to catch it as he winced back. “Look, Jon. I-i am sorry for what I called you!”

“What bastard?” Jon asked, playing dumb. “Well it's true. There is nothing to be sorry about!” Jon shrugged his shoulders.

“You know that isn’t what I meant…” the young heir tried to begin, but Jon cut him off.

“You know the thing that hurts the most?” Jon said.

“What?” Robb asked with a pained look.

“That you would side with that squid over your own flesh and brother. He isn’t one of us. He is a Ironborn, they rape and reaver, and sow destruction and misery. Who knows what he will do when he goes back to his little shitty island! Stab us in the back, maybe?”

“Come on, you know it isn’t like that. Theon wouldn’t.. “ Robb said, trying to defend his would be friend, but Jon wasn’t having it and didn’t want to hear it.

“Have a nice day, my lord,” Jon said as he gave a mocking bow, then walked away.

“Jon, Jon, Jon,” Robb called out behind him, but Jon just kept on moving along, too incensed to even turn around. He didn’t know what it was that attracted his brother to that squid, but what he did know was that it would be the end of him one day.

You never trust an Ironborn, because at the end of the day they would only just disappoint.

Reaching the tower, Jon went up the flights of stairs to his father's solar, two men-at-arms greeted him at the landing of the solar room floor. Walking down the short hall, he saw Jory Cassel himself guarding the door. The man raised a single eyebrow in surprise when he saw him, but without another word he opened the door for him to let him enter.

Jory Cassel, Captain of the Guards

Lv. 21

Glancing up at the older man’s high level, Jon could only just shake his head to himself, and asked his more pressing concern. “Can you tell me how angry he is?”

Jory Cassel was as the system said the captain of the guards, and a veteran of two wars glancing over at him the man gave him a knowing smile when he saw the worrying look on his face. Jory had been a loyal man of his family’s house, he was of an age with his own remaining nuncle, and always treated him with respect and friendliness.

However he wasn’t no above making jokes as he made him wriggle in discomfort before he answered. “I can only say, he was worried about your safety.”

Walking into the solar, Jon heard the door close behind him as he stood still before his father’s long oaken desk. He was pouring over the parchments laid out before him, and didn’t look up for a single second.

Lord Eddard Stark, head of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North…

Lv. 42

Seeing the slew of titles right next to his Lord father’s name and the very high level, Jon was only reminded of who he was standing right before. One of the most powerful men in the realm, and the very King’s own best friend.

Lord Eddard Stark had the same long face that all Northerners were known to have, his cold steel grey eyes were just like that of the Starks before him. He stood a few inches taller than Jon, but Jon had plenty of time to catch up to him and even surpass him. His beard and mustache was groomed and thick long dark black hair fell behind his back.

If put side to side, Jon and his little sister Arya Stark were the ones that resembled their lord father the most. However, Jon did pick up some dissimilarities between the both of them like the high cheekbones he had, lighter pale skin tone, the more slender figure, eyes that held a certain lilac shade when you looked at it in the sun, and many smaller details.

There were many different theories that the servants, men-at-arms, and household members liked to throw around about who his mother was. Some thought it was a camp-follower from during Robert's Rebellion, others a high-born lady, and the one that all most likely assumed was Ashara Dayne.

Jon wondered about those theories, and which ones actually held some facts.

Quickly though, he was pulled out of his thoughts as his father finally spoke up. “You want to tell me where you have been?”

“In the crypts,” Jon answered.

Turning to looking up at him, his lord father asked, “You are telling me you were down there the whole day, mhmm?”

“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you everything,” Jon tiredly shrugged his shoulders.

“Really now?” his lord father said very slowly, and for a few moments they exchanged long hard looks at each other until his father broke the gaze. “Listen, Jon,” his father began. “I know sometimes it can be tough to be… you know. However you just can run off and not tell anyone. You have people that care for you, and you would be sorely missed…”

Just listening to his lord father go on about being a bastard brought up old wounds. What did his father even know about what it meant to be a bastard? He was born and raised a true son, and was offered all the comfort and esteen of his position.

While he on the other hand had been looked down upon and belittled all his life whether it be a heartless cruel woman, or holy folk that see him as the devil reborn.

“Stop, just stop,” Jon said, barely holding back the pain and anger he felt as his hands formed clenched fists. “You know nothing of how it feels to be me every single day. Not with your Lady Wife always so kindly reminding me of my place, or that squid that gets treated better than me in what should be my own home. So please my lord, just stop,” Jon said, his voice feeling hoarse and empty.

He didn’t know for how long he wanted to get that off his chest, but now that he did he felt all rung out and tired.

Silence reigned for a long time after his outburst until Lord Eddard looked down in shame and sadness, and said, “I am sorry that I have failed you! I…”

“If you ever want to do right by me,” Jon said. “Tell me who is my mom?” Jon asked, bringing up the one thing that truly matters to him.

His lord father was silent for a long while until he finally breathed out, “I-i… I can’t. I just can tell you that yet.”

Jon didn’t know what he expected to hear, but it turned out to be the same as usual. His lord father still decided to remain adamantly silent on the matter of who his mother was. If Jon was a suspicious man, he might be wondering why that was the stake. He would have been asking himself what did his Lord Father have to hide.

But right now, he was too tired to even think along those lines, after that life and death fight he had, and the confrontation he now had between both his brother and father.. He just wanted to roll up his bed and stay there forever.

“Well then,” Jon said, steeling himself from another outburst. “If I might be excused, my lord,” he said this time not with a single hint of disrespect, just with only solem icy coldness.

“Yes, you may,” Lord Stark said with a wave and a deep sigh.

Turning around stiffly on his feet, Jon walked out of the solar room, and ignored all the looks he got along his way until he finally reached his room and slammed the door behind him shut.

He glanced about his room seeing everything was in order, the room was a nice and tidy place, however, it was far away from the family corridors as Lady Catelyn made it to be. Just her giving him another reminder of his station in life, and that he never would be truly a legitimate child.

Collapsing on his bed Jon just wanted a hot meal in him and to sleep for days on end after the day he had. He was of a mind to do exactly that, but he just couldn’t as there was a certain energy about him.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jon got up from his bed and made his way to the window sill where his harp was tucked away. It was a beautiful musical instrument that he bought from one of the traveling merchants in Wintertown. He loved to play it for hours on end all by himself, and it always did the trick of calming him down.

It also reminded him of better days, and he remembered the day he picked it up just like it was yesterday. Sansa (when she wasn’t such an uptight lady) was having difficulty picking up the instrument so he decided to help her, however who would expect that he would master it so fast.

Sansa and her friend forgot all about learning the instrument and just listened to him play. Until one day Lady Catelyn walked in on them, at first she was mesmerized just like the others until she remembered herself then came over and snatched the harp and smashed it on the ground.

She did well to remind him of who he was, and his place. While making it clear no bastard should be picking up such noble lessons that were beyond him. But who was Jon if he listened to her?

Picking up the instrument and seating himself at the window sill, Jon highly tapped the harp to get a feel for it. Then he began.

The first song he started with was Jenny's song, a sorrowful song about a misfortunate girl. Still, he loved that song as it sort of reminded him of his miserable life.

Starting off with a sorrowful tone, Jon's finger's ran across the strings as he set the mood. Then he began to sing. He ran through both high and low notes and let the music simply wash over him as it took away all his anger and sorrow until he was left feeling empty. All that remained was the music, and the music along.

After he finished that song, Jon began with The Burning of the Ships. A song about Brandon the Burner, a King in the North from long ago who burned all the Northern ships when his father got lost at sea.

Jon let the passionate song wash over him as he could feel the burning rage of a son who lost his father at sea, even if Brandon the Burner was the one who weakened the North for centuries afterward and opened the North up to raiders, pirates, and slavers.

After that one, Jon picked another, then another, until time blurred together, and he felt only the music and his harp in his hands. Until Jon got a couple alerts!

New Skills Gained

[Musical Instruments] - The using of tools to produce sounds of harmony and melody, the expression of emotion, and beauty of form.

[Singing] - The using of your voice to create pleasant sounding tones especially words with a set tune.

Looking them over, Jon set aside his harp and took a moment to breathe feeling refreshed and calm as if all his worries and concerns were washed away. However this didn’t seem to be the end of messages he was getting.

New Quest Alert!

You really are a bumbling fool. Until now you haven’t even opened your character screen. Come on, how ignorant do you have to be? It is clear that you need to be put on the special aid track.

Objective: Learn the System!

Reward: All functions unlocked!

Failure: You will forever be in the dark scratching your head about everything!