Chapter 12: Brightness and madness
So last chapter got pushback, from some people, lol.
Maybe it's a failure to communicate on my part, seeing as I'm not an experienced writer.
I get it too, industrialization fics can be unbelievable, even in a fantasy setting like "Planetos"(that's a stupid name, btw.)
I think it's because the writers failed to impress upon the readers how insane and scary that would be for a people whose way of life hae been relatively unchanged for the better part of 10k years.
The kind of backlash you would get wouldn'tbjust be from threatened nobles, but from literally everyone, even family members. They'd either end up dead or all their changes would be rolled back as soon as they die of old ages. That's why I'm always saying that the surrounding infrastructure is just as, if not more, important as the invention itself.
The whole point of the fic is how difficult that kind of thing would be. Beor is doing a fool's errand. He is correct in his goals, but he always thinks too big, making him miss how other people react to him at time. You can't just industrialize a nation like Westeros in a matter of years. You can't even do it in the modern world. Not unless you're the king. And a powerful one at that.
I'm also writing the story in the POV of an older man who had already done the crazy stuff one would expect a young man to do. He was smart and successful in his old life. He now lives in some backwater world and is in dire need of finding something to fight for.
He is sure of himself, because he knows he has the knowledge, and sees that he is much stronger than most men( he was put in a war and fecking ruled). So he has a bit of a messiah complex. He also comes off much more confident than he actually is.
So no, it's not going to be a story where the MC just changes the world out of sheer badassery and smarts.
And I'll be having short timeskips once in a while to show thr progression of Beor and the likes, also to not bore you with useless details.
That's my longest Author's note yet but I thought this was needed.
As always, I own nun'
Lord commander of the Night's Watch. The title sounded a lot more fancier than it was, Jeor Mormont thought. He was the Lord of a dying order guarding the world from myths and grumkins.
The Night's Watch had once been honourable, now it was but a place the kingdoms sent their rejects and undesirables.
But life at the Wall hasn't been as bad as it once was. Bear Island, his once home, had taken it upon itself to feed and clothes them, providing them foodstuff and clothing for almost the normal price.
He had a blow to his heart when heard of his son's passing. He was a strong boy, with a good head on his shoulders. The only solace he found was that he had died doing his duty.
Jeor Mormont was also glad that his house was in good hands. Ever since Maege had taken over only good things had happened. The house was richer, he heard, producing stuff and trading with much of the North. And they had gain lordship of Sea Dragon point, through the accomplishments if his nephew.
The things he had heard about the boy ranged from hilarious to downright insulting to his intelligence. The boy had gone to war with his son, and came back a hero.
According to the stories, he had singlehandedly taken the Keep of House Drumm in revenge for Jorah. They said he had walked to the main gate, shrugging off arrows, and had ripped the doors out of the walls, foundation and all.
He had also ripped Euron Greyjoy head from his body, as if it were but a dollhead.
The stories were entertaining, Jeor would give them that, but didn't put much credence in them, believing them to be war stories exagerated through word of mouth. But whatever the case was he could rest in peace. The fate of his family seemed to have changed for the better.
It had been a month since Maege and Beor had that fateful conversation. The lady of Bear Island had been quite embarrassed afterwards when Beor had told her that the trip to Essos wasn't due to happen for at least a year.
He had wanted to talk to her about the before the conversation when to hell, but tempers got in the way and the rest was history.
"So, you want to train more craftsmen for our lands? Maege asked, from behind her desk in the lord's solar.
They had been talking about Beor's plans more ever since Maege had made peace with the kind of person he was.
"That's the idea of it. Building two castles take a lot of skills, material and time. We have the time and the material, but we are sorely lacking in skills.
But it's not just in construction, I need ones for the finer stuff too. Like glass making and the likes.. I want our own crafstmen to be able to replicate what they learn and do it even better."
"But why go to Essos yourself? You can make the craftsmen come to you, no?" she interjected.
"Of course, but I have other things I want to try, and a long trip in open waters would be the perfect way to put them to the test."
"Please do tell," Maege asked, almost mockingly. Did you find a way to fly, but you don't want anyone to find out? Or is it a way to ensnare krakens and make them to the rowing for you." she added, chuckling at her joke.
Beor, feigning hurt, responded, " Mother, I maybe be ungodly smart, but even I can perform miracles. All I did discorver a way to accurately navigate in open waters, no matter the conditions. And if I'm lucky, maybe a way to half the travel time to Essos.
His mother couldn't contain her laughter. She laughed till tears were streaming down her face. Until slwoly, she came to the horrifying realization that her son was not joking. He was staring back at her, with that smug look of his, waiting for her to realize that the last laugh was about to be his.
" No.." she said in complete denial.
Beor only nodded, mock resignation on his face, "M'fraid not, mother."
"Bullshit!" she said, angrily, slamming her fist on the Ironwood desk.
"You really should stop doing that", Beor said, looking at his nails, ignoring the outburst, "you're going to end up breaking something.
"Surely, you're joking, son. Why don't you pull the other one whilst you're at it.?
Beor only shook his head, slowly waiting for her to come to terms with whay he said.
Groaning, she let herself sag into her soft and comfortable chair that Dacey and Alysanne had got her a few months back.
She was defeated. Everyday the boy would figure out a way to shatter her set conception of the world. Her poor brain could hardly take any more.
Sighing, finally, she said: "Show me."
'Even on Westeros, the five stages of grief still stands firm." Beor thought wrily, motioning his mother to follow him.
They made their way towards Beor's study. Rather than a regularly room, as studies are wont to be, it was a large building, close to, but separate from the keep, connecting to it by a long covered hallway.
A recent addition, it visually clashed with the spartan look of the Mormont castle. It was rather picturesque, resembling a large house with a slanted roof, chimney and all. It was also surrounded by all kinds of plants and materials which, despite seemingly having been thrown hapazardly, still managed to not deter for the quaintness of the house.
Maege, like most people on Bear Islandq had the tendency to steer clear from the place, feeling it was a place of arcane magic, one thay promised both marvels and horrors alike.
"Come on in, mother, don't be shy", his son's voice called out. He was waiting for her to enter, holding the door. She hadn't realized they had arrived already.
"I'm not shy", she said defensively. "Just wary. You know I don't understand those "sciences" of yours..."
"It's confusing, I know, I know", Beor said, and closed the door behind her, having heard the diatribe more times than he cared to count.
The woman walked into the was surprisingly neat when she took into account how absent minded her son could be when he goes into one of his moods.
"This way", he said, showing a room with large slab of black slate stones, with markings in a language she didn't understand.
"Disregard that", he said, guiding her further down the room. on a table were papers of all kinds, some with designs, other with letters and numbers. There was also a circular item, and a larger more complicated one with levers and what seemed to be myrish lenses.
"There," Beor finally said, pointing at the objects. They were delivered today by Erik's boy. Now they're quite rudimentary, as of now, but within a year, they'll be completely operational and ready for use."
He had gotten quite animated, moving his hands, and his eyes showing almost the same crazed look he got when he was fighting.
"Beor! Beor, son. I know not what that is." Maege said, attempting to calm her son " Would you mind explaining what they do?"
"Yes, yes, of course" He said, slighlty embarassed. "This here", he began, pointing at the smaller object, "is a compass, pretty simple, really. Magnetized metal, in liquid, all encapsulated in glass and wood. The red arrow always point to the North, wherever you are, unless you're near powerful magnets or other ferromagnetic metals." he explained, shrugging.
Maege blinked, once, twice. she looked at the small box in her hand, the red arrow pointing vaguely in Beor's direction. She turned away from Beor, only for the arrow to point at the same direction. She tried again, over and over, only for needle to stubbornly point North.
'The son of a bitch is right' she thought, disregarding the implication of the insult.
"How? How did you figure it out?, she said, bewildered. "How do you come up with those things?"
"What can I say, mother? I'm the smartest man in the world." he retorded coyly.
She was looking at the box in her hand with unbridled reverance. As an island people, the sea was an essential part of their lives. This tiny box was factually priceless for what it could do for them.
She carefully put the compass down, and turned towards the other object. Unprompted, Beor explained, somewhat confused at her mother's behaviour. "This is a sextant. It's not quite operational yet, but when it's done, our sailors would be able to accurately calculate the angle between the horizon and whatever celestial body they chose. I'm sure you can understand the implications.
The Mormont woman had to sit. She was too dizzy. Beor was talking about his inventions so matter of factly, as if he had done nothing but invent a new dye for his linens.
"Here, mum, drink", Beor said. handing her a small glass of brandy, another one of the new drinks from Bear Island.
She down the spirit without hesitation, leaning back in the chair.
"I don't understand", she said finally. "This is not how things are done."
"I thought you'd be happy" Beor said, frowning.
"Oh, I am fucking ecstatic, you just revolutionized the world of navigation" she countered, a sad smile on her face. "I'm just scared." she added.
"Scared of what?" Her son wondered out loud.
"In our world, change spells challenge. And the powerful don't invite challenges. It's not good practice. I already told you I'd support you, son. But I implore you. Be careful. A lot of people would pay a lot of money to have your inventions, or to see them gone. This is no game." she finished.
Beor gulped at that. She was right. Changes in however small increments, would still cause massive waves in Westeros and the world beyond. Waves that could come back and drown him and his loved ones.
"Yes, mother. I'll be careful, I promise." he said, contrite.
"Oh son. Don't make promises you can't keep. You wouldn't know careful if it rested its balls on your forehead".
This illicited a laugh from the pair.
"Alysanne and Dacey helped me with that, if you must know. I'm not the only syupid child you have." Beor said, petulantly.
"They did?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Her daughters had been showing a bit of interest in their brother endeavours, but she'd never thought they'd actively want to take part in them.
"Yes", Her son confirmed. "Dacey seem to have quite the talent for numbers, if I can say so.
"Well, I'll be damned", Maege said, and finally remembering something, continued. "And speaking of Dacey, a raven came this morning."
" And?", Beor urged her to continue.
"Lord Karstark offered a bethrotal between her and his first son and heir Harrion. And I intend to accept"
"This is good news", Beor said, hesitantly a frown on his face.
"Good news, indeed" Maege answered. " And you just found them the perfect wedding gift."
"Which is?" Beor asked, feeling the cold sweat upon his back.
"Why a nice trip to Essos, of course." she answered, satisfied with the look of utter dejection Beor was sporting on his face.
Dacey's wedding to Harrion Karstark was busy, but quiet affair, which happened about eight months after the announcement. Beor's eldest sister and the Karstark heir seem to like each other's presence very well so far.
Harrion looked like his father and all the other Karstark. He was tall, well built, with sharp features and broad shouldered. His hair, which he kept rather long, was black and his eyes as dark as coal.
However similar to them he was, he was quite different in character. He was not loud or rambunctious like his father, rather was thoughtful and moderate, but no less jovial. He appear to be quite the smart fellow.
The day after he arrived at First Light- This was what they had taken to call the growing town on Bear Island- Dacey had demanded a duel from him. They were about the same size, with Harrion being three inches taller than her at six feet and three inches. It was a good fight, lasting the better part of four minutes, with Harrion edging a win from his soon to be wife. For some reason, he seemed quite delighted by how good she was at fighting.
He tried to fight Beor after that, whom proceded to put him through a wall just to prove a point. They then had a good drink and talked at length about the war and what they did.
They'd spend the weeks getting to know each other, at Beor's suggestion. The young Mormont was glad to see that Harrion wasn't a bad man, and seem to quite appreciate his sister as a person. Beor kmew she could be rough around the edges at time, but the Karstark didn't seem to mind.
Like her ancestor Lyra Mormont had before her, Dacey went deep into the woods, armed with just a pair of axe and hunted a pack of wolf, taking down three of them and proceded to make a cloak out of them.
The wedding in itself was short and sweet. It took place in Karhold, the seat of house Karstark, in the presence of several members of the major houses, including Lord Stark. That was a sign that, though still relatively small, House Mormont was getting more and more recognition.
Of course, the lords didn't waste the occasion and went on to pester Maege about a betrothal for Beor.
"When will the Red Bear marry?" asked lord Wyman Manderly. "I have two granddaughters each fairer than the other, and braver than most men, what say you, lady Mormont?"
"Has the little fucker grown any hair down there yet?" had demanded Great Jon Umber, totally shitfaced. "When he's ready to become a true man, I have a niece of mine, a real looker if you ask me. Pretty as a summer bird. She'll make a good wife for him, I'm sure." he was more slurring than talking at this point.
And so it went for the whole week the were there.
Beor for his part, dodged expertly all advances from lords and ladies, and from some of the younger ladies who had seemed to be starstruck by him. It seemed his reputation preceded him. The amount of girls, and he meant girls, that propositioned him for sex was truly staggering. He might have accepted if they were at least in their twenties, but other world or not, the idea of having sex with a teenager still repulsed him to the core..
The plan after that was for them to come back to Bear Island and accompany Beor on his trip to Essos. The gathered ceowd was quite amazed by the present. A trip across the Narrow Sea was quite expensive, even more so from the west coast of the northern kingdom.
Lord Karstark didn't seem to thrilled about his heir being away from home for such a lenghty period, but agreed nonetheless, as it would be one of the rare instance where the boy could be truly free, as he was destined to carry on his duties as lord of Karhold when the time came.
Thus, here there were, two months later, in the deep water port of First Light, the northernmost city of Westeros, about to board the newly launched "Lady Mormont", a prototype frigate class sailship, first of its class, packed with all the innovation Beor could come up with.
It was his first test to see how he'd fare at sea, as in this era, supremacy at sea means supremacy in war. So far the Redwyne had the greatest fleet of Westeros, followed by the Royal fleet at Dragonstone. They had fairly advanced ships for the era but would not hold a candle to his armada when it'd be fully functional.
However for now it'd be time to test his innovation to see if they were viable. The thinner, longer keel, the fully rigged sails, alongside the copper plated hull, among others put the ship about three hundred ahead of its counterparts. The only ships that should come close were the carracks and dromonds of the Manderlys and Redwines.
'Patience, Beor', he could hear Maege's voice whisper, 'good things happen to those who wait.' Pretty soon, conflict will erupt in Westeros, of that he was certain. And when the conflict came, Bear Island will be ready. He felt bad for not trying to stop the coming wars. It could be easy to him, to just nip it in the bud, just like that, but he wasn't about make himself the policeman if the world. If petty men wanted to fight, it'd let them, so long as they knew to keep their distance lest the be wiped out to the last man.
The boat was truly massive, especially compared to what the Northmen were used to, larger than the typical war galley, but with a smaller ship, of about one hundred and thirty men. They were even more surprised to see how fast it was going, even compared to Ironborn longships who were said to have been built for speed and maneuverability. The Lady Mormont, at least so far, lived up to his expectations.
Harrion and Dacey were flabbergasted at the sight of the ship, and even more impressed when it came to its speed when compared to its size. The surprise was all the more sweeter because it was under wrap, with only his mother being kept in the loop of imhis most important innovations.
The first week, they had travelled from First Light to the Westerlands, twice the conventional speed. With the use the compass and sextant, there was minimal drifting. That was complemented by something Beor had as an afterthought. Adding latitudes and longitudes, with Kingslanding as the point zero, an obvious symbolic choice.
They had also braved their first right as around down, and the crew, though not as familiar with the ship as they were with others were quick study. They were blown off course west of the Shield Isles, but quickly figure out their new position and corrected accordingly.
The Lady Mormont's first pit stop what at Old Town, not because it wad needed-they were on schedule-, but for the young married couple could go sight seeing. Dacey had never left Bear Island, and the furthest Harrion had gone was Pyke. So were quite in awe when faced with the beauty of the Reach.
Located in the mouth of the Honeywine, the first thing they sawof Old Town was the High Tower. A massive buildind, the tallest Beor had seen in these lands, with a seeminglt everburning fire on top of it.
The town itself was a magnificent structure. Built from stone, the massive city had thick, high stonewalls, a large pair of sphinxes guarding its gates. The cobbled streets seemed to form an intricate labyrinth of magnificent architectures. As proud as Beor was of First Light, He had to admit that his city looked like a quaint hamlet in comparison. To be fair however, the city had a few millenia worth of headstart.
Further in the city stood the Citadel, thr foremost intellectual establishment in the known world. Beor himself had no real interest in the thing. From what he had seen from Lowry and the library at Lannisport, there were not many useful things they could teach him.
Harrion and Dacey were absolutely transfixed by the sights in front of them, they walked down the streets of Old Town, with a light escort-Beor insisted- going from shop to shop, mostly window licking and once in a while buying something.
Harrion bought Dacey a mace, beautifully crafted, a shispar, the smith called it, with the design originating from Asshai.
'Is this true love?' Beor asked himself, watching the way Dacey pounced on her husband, arms behind his neck, kissing his mouth and wherever else she could reach. It seemed to him that the two of them were at the beginning of something beautiful.
Three days later, they left Old Town, heading South-East, around Dorne. The weather got significantly warmer there, but thanks to the ocean breeze, Beor managed to stay relatively comfortable.
All and all it was a rather uneventful journey, that is if sailing from First Light past the Redwyne Straight in thirteen days was uneventful. It did take a while for the significance of the accomplishment to dawn on the sailors and the other passengers.
"Thirteen fucking days, m'lord!" exclaimed the first mate. He was a tall muscly man named Jon. While Beor was the captain, he was the one with the actual sailing experience on the Sunset Sea. And he was busy yelling in Beor general direction. "What sorcery is this? Sailing ships aren't supoosed to be that fast!"
Beor laughed at that, and retorted, "You were there, my good man, you senses are not lying to you."
The man grumbled at that, still bewildered, "When you said she was fast, this is not what I expected. I don't even know why we were nervous about puttong her at sea to begin with . This is the thing legends are made of, young lord."
" I know, and as I promised you and the others, you'll be on the forefront with me", he said pouring whiskey for him and his first mate. "Glory tastes better when shared with friends, after all." he finished, raising his glass before downing it.
His Jon shook his head,downed his own cup, before walking muttering a formidable string of curses.
Beor had taken ample notes on the behaviour of his frigate, checking and rechecking the numbers. The boat, being a prototype, wasn't as fast as a top of the line eighteenth century frigate of similar dimensions. It topped at twelve nautical miles per hour as opposed to the fourteen or fifteen of its British counterpart.
That said, it was still twice as fast as the fastest ship of the Redwynes, and three times as fast as your typical Ironborn longboat. This would be the core of his power in the future. After ameliorating the next boats to ensure even better performance he will own trade on the West Coast of Westeros, than the Narrow Sea, then the oceans themselves.
But before he could continue fantasizing on ruling the world, the ultimate test appeared.
As they were rounding the shattered arm of Dorne, they found themselves in the Southern Narrow Sea, entering the infamous archipelago of the Stepstones.
Home to pirates and reavers of all kinds, the islands were a reason why trade with the West Coast was so difficult. Because no one officially owned the Stepstones, it became a no man's land, offering the perfect cover for men with bad intention and an unhealthy hunger for coin.
He was that the Lady Mormont, being such a large ship, would be sufficient bait to attract some unfortunate corsair as a willing volunteer in his experiment.
And it didn't take long. Two smaller boats, when compared to the Lasy Mormont could be seen speeding towards them, their passengers jeering. "My gods, are they slow", muttered Harrion next to him.
Beor chuckled at that, agreeing with the observation.
"Do we lose them? It'd be easy." Dacey piped up. They both seem calm about the fact that they were facing pirates on their home turf.
They were about half a mile away when Beor made up his mind.
"Nah", he said. Why don't we have some fun. We can take them." he said, sure of himself.
"Pay up", Dacey said, holding a hand towards her husband, who put a gold coin in her hand, groaning.
Rolling his eyes at their antics, Beor yelled at the first mate.
"Jon, at my order, broaside to the enemy!"
" Aye cap'n" the weathered sailor hollered from the helm.
Running to the second level, Beor unlatched a part of the wall, giving him a clear view of the incoming boats.
"Men" he yelled. "Scorpions!"
The sailors quickly manned their stations, loading the hefty iron rods into the ships scorpions. They were an amelioration from the original dornish design. Where the actual scorpion was an overpowered mini ballista, his version, the manticore( trademark pending) was effectively a massive piston spring loaded compound crossbow.
He had only seen them in action a few times, and even he was scared by the machines.
"Four hundred yards, my lord!" yelled the lookout from the bird's nest.
That should do.
"Aim for the larger boat", he yelled. Leave the other one intact.
" Aye, cap'n!"
"Jon, broaside to the enemy!" Beor yelled holding a rope, foot on the ramp.
The ship veered right, as if perfoming a wide angle U-turn, presenting its left side to the pirate ships.
Did they think they were running away? Were they already salivating at the idea of capturing boat and crew? Maybe. But reality had other plans.
"Loose!" Beor ordered poiting his hand towards the incoming ships.
With a loud twang, eight streamlined rods flew towards the larger ship. Three missed, but the other five skewered the wooden construct, at least two of them going through lengthwise, bow to stern.
"Reload!" Jon yelled, taking over the command.
"Loose!"
"Loose!"
"Loose!"
Repeatedly, the large bolts mercilessly stroke true, the ship having stopped mobing after the second volley. The poor thing was barely recognizable, already a wreck, her men jumping ship, trying to get to their sister crew, who had already decided to cut its losses.
"Did you just turn a pirate's galley into wood fire, Lord Beor" asked Harrion. He looked bewildered at what just happened.
"Sure did", Beor said nonchalantly.
"Ah." was all the man answered, clearly shaken.
"What are your orders, my lord?" asked a young sailor, a runner from Jon.
"Pick up the stragglers, and we give chase to the other boat after." Beor said, as he wrote in his trusty journal, putting down his thoughts and notes whilst they were still fresh.
"Are you the Builder reborn?" Harrion asked, looking at him, a hint of fear in his eyes.
"What?", Beor asked, not expecting that line of conversation.
"You build all those crazy machines, figure out all those things.", he said frowning, looking off to the distance. "This ship, what you just did. It's not natural."
"You think me a wizard or something?" Beor asked, trying to cut through the tension.
"No. Maybe, I don't know. Dacey says you're blessed by the gods, others think you're a demon, sent here to tempt us with evil contraptions." He looked conflicted, somewhat.
"And do you think, Harrion?" the Mormont asked, looking at a man he had come to consider a friend.
The Karstark looked at him for a moment, before amswering, putting his hand on Beor's shoulder. "I think you're a good lad, Beor, a tad insane, but a good lad nonetheless. And you are my good brother, if Dacey trusts you, then so do I."
Beor nodded at that. "Thank you, my friend.", before turning towards the smaller ship retreating in the horizon.
"Come now. We have a ship to capture."
This is basically a filler chapter, to transition to the next events in Braavos and Pentos. It's a bit rambly as I just wanted to get it out of the way so I can write about the Essos part. Two or three more chapters before we catch up to canon.