Game of Thrones: The Witcher System

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Leaving the chaotic Winterfell behind, Clay finally had the opportunity to relax and think about his next steps in White Harbor—a place where he could let his guard down.

After running around in circles and dealing with the complexities of Winterfell for so long, the events up until his identity confirmation and the acquisition of magic had indeed gone according to plan.

However, ever since the outbreak of magical energy from the heart tree, everything that followed had completely derailed from Clay's script, spiraling beyond his control.

Fortunately, despite the twists and turns, Clay had managed to extricate himself from the murky waters of Winterfell just in time.

When Littlefinger had used him as a pawn to incite conflict between the Starks and the Lannisters, Clay had considered taking drastic action—confronting Lord Eddard Stark directly and sending assassins under the effects of Axii's sign, forcing them to confess everything within a limited window.

But in the end, he dismissed the thought. He was already standing at the edge of the chessboard; one more step would draw him fully into the game. And in the Game of Thrones, there was no option for a reset—no way to change one's identity once it was marked by the game's rules.

In a sense, both Clay and Littlefinger were after the same thing: the ladder called "chaos." While Clay admired the Starks' sense of honor and their principles, his regard for them ended there. Nothing more, nothing less.

As the procession moved through the bustling city of White Harbor, drawing the respectful gazes of townsfolk busy with their daily lives, Clay felt a surge of warmth in his chest.

Here, the Merman banner symbolized law and order, and he, as its heir, felt a sense of pride.

"Let's head back first. You'll have plenty of time to explore the city later. Over the years, Stannis and our fleet have cleared the Narrow Sea of pirates, and the trade routes are much safer now," Lord Wyman Manderly said with a cheerful smile, patting Clay, who was lost in admiration of the city's scenic beauty.

"Understood." Clay gave a slight tug on his horse's reins, urging it forward toward New Castle, the residence of the Manderly family. Only a dozen seasoned White Harbor soldiers accompanied him as guards on this trip.

As for his younger sister, Wylla—though the events at Winterfell weren't entirely her fault—Lord Wyman had still confined her to a lavish carriage, almost as opulent as Queen Cersei's. It was her duty, in the eyes of the family, to play the role of a proper Manderly lady.

When they reached the inner gates of the castle, Clay spotted his elder sister, Wynafryd.

Having just passed her nineteenth name day, the eldest daughter of House Manderly was an image of grace. She wore a pristine white dress that reached the ground, adorned with intricate gold embellishments. Bathed in the midday sunlight, she radiated elegance and purity.

Clay's witcher-enhanced eyesight allowed him to pick out the fine details of her attire from a distance—a trident surrounded by various marine creatures, finely embroidered into the fabric.

Dismounting his horse, Clay approached her.

"Welcome back, Clay. Where's Grandfather?" Wynafryd asked softly, tilting her head slightly to glance behind him.

"Oh, I came back first. Grandfather is just behind us and should return shortly," Clay replied casually. Without hesitation, he took her hand and started toward the castle, eager to bathe and rest after days of riding.

Wynafryd hesitated. Her teeth lightly bit her red lips as she grappled with the situation. House Manderly's rules were strict; by tradition, she should wait until Lord Wyman returned to greet him as the eldest daughter of the family.

Yet, she knew Clay's disdain for such formalities. Being naturally gentle, Wynafryd found herself torn, her steps faltering as she weighed her options.

Noticing her hesitation, Clay turned back and quickly understood her unease. With a reassuring tone, he said, "Don't worry. Grandfather won't mind you leaving. It was Wylla's turn to bear the brunt today."

Clay couldn't help but chuckle at his own words. During his time in Winterfell, the captain of the guard had often remarked how amusing the two Manderly sisters were.

It was as though the sisters had a silent agreement: out of the seven days in a week, they each took turns making Lord Wyman's life difficult for six days.

Wynafryd, the elder sister, was too soft-spoken. Despite her beauty and graceful figure, Lord Wyman couldn't stand her overly timid demeanor. Having been a commanding presence all his life, the old lord naturally found it irksome to see his family act so subservient.

Wylla, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. She neglected her lessons in noble etiquette, displayed an untamed spirit, and was anything but ladylike. Her bold, careless behavior often exasperated the old lord to no end.

On Mondays, Lord Wyman would chastise Wynafryd for being too meek, warning her not to let herself be taken advantage of in marriage. By the next day, he would find Wylla spilling food all over herself during dinner.

Yet, in a curious twist, the sisters always gave their grandfather a day of peace on Sundays, seemingly out of consideration for his aging body.

So when Clay remarked that it was Wylla's turn to bear the brunt today, Wynafryd unconsciously relaxed, and Clay couldn't help but find the situation amusing.

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At the evening banquet, Clay, now dressed in a luxurious outfit embroidered with blue stripes, focused intently on the fried fish fillet on his plate.

Suddenly, his grandfather's voice broke the silence:

"Our Lord Eddard Stark has agreed to journey south to King's Landing to serve as Hand of the King under His Grace Robert I Baratheon. Accompanying him will be his two daughters."

With both his uncle Wylis and father Wendel absent from this family gathering, it was clear the words were directed at Clay.

Clay understood immediately. This letter from Winterfell officially announced Eddard Stark's acceptance of the position as Hand of the King. Given the timing, it was likely the royal entourage had already set off.

Though Clay had no way to stop the Stark wolves from heading south, he had at least managed to prevent Bran from falling from the tower and becoming paralyzed. The boy, unconscious and vulnerable, wouldn't be an easy target for an assassin now.

Though these may seem like small changes, Clay firmly believed that even the tiniest adjustments could accumulate over time, eventually allowing him to alter pivotal moments in history.

The previously whispering Wynafryd and Wylla at the table fell silent. At the Manderly dining table, women were not permitted to speak unless the matter concerned them directly.

This rule had been less noticeable during Clay's absence, but now that he had returned, Lord Wyman was subtly reinforcing it.

"The direwolves of the North aren't suited for the stifling heat of the South..." he muttered.

After speaking those words, Lord Wyman resumed eating in silence, occasionally mumbling to himself. Clay understood the sentiment.

Historically, Stark lords who ventured south to King's Landing rarely met with favorable outcomes. The most notorious example was Eddard's father and elder brother, who were burned alive in the throne room by the Mad King Aerys II.

It was widely believed that few in the North supported Lord Eddard's decision. The northern lords had long been accustomed to the cold but steadfast homeland and had little desire to involve themselves in the tangled web of power struggles in King's Landing.

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