The village was already fading behind him, a cold speck in the distance as he made his way south. He had spent months there, laying the foundation of his new life, but he always
knew it was temporary. He needed more—a bigger city, more resources, and a place
where he could disappear among the masses while working on his inventions in
peace.
Lannisport seemed like the best option.It was one of the richest cities in Westeros, filled with
merchants, traders, and craftsmen. Unlike King's Landing, which was choked with
politics, or Oldtown, which was controlled by maesters, Lannisport was a city
of wealth and opportunity. If he played his cards right, he could establish
himself there without getting caught up in the dangerous games of nobles and
kings.
The journey south was not easy.Traveling alone in Westeros was a death sentence for most, but he had prepared well. His earnings from the village had given him enough gold to buy a
sturdy horse and basic supplies—a warm cloak, food, and a simple steel knife.
He had no training in combat, but his mind was his greatest weapon. He stayed
off the main roads, avoided drawing attention, and only stopped at small
hamlets to rest.Still, danger was never far.
One night, as he camped near the road, he heard the distant sound of hooves. He doused his fire
immediately and crouched behind a cluster of trees, his heart pounding. A group
of armed men passed by—bandits or deserters, he wasn't sure. But their laughter
and the casual way they spoke of "easy pickings" told him all he needed to
know.Westeros was a cruel world.He wasn't a warrior. He had no sword, no armor.
But he had knowledge. And knowledge was power.
He arrived at a small town two days later. It was a dusty little place, barely more than a marketplace and a few houses. But it had something valuable—trade.He spent the day observing,
watching what the people needed. The farmers struggled with moving their goods,
the blacksmiths lacked efficient tools, and the merchants spent too much time
weighing coins by hand.That night, he got to work.
Using the simple tools and materials available, he crafted a better weight scale—one that was more precise and easier to use. He also made a simple pulley system for loading heavy sacks onto
carts, something that even a child could operate.
The next morning, he demonstrated them to the merchants. Their eyes widened as they saw how easily his inventions worked."Where did you learn this?" one of them asked.
He smiled. "Trade secrets."
By midday, he had sold enough to double his coin pouch.The town's innkeeper took notice of him. A man who could create tools that made work easier was valuable, even in a place like
this. He offered him a place to stay for the night, and over dinner, they spoke
of Lannisport.
"You plan to head there?"
the innkeeper asked. "It's a good place for a man with skills like yours. But be careful. The Lannisters don't like competition."
That was something he had already considered. Lannisport was under the direct control of House Lannister, and if he became too successful, it might draw their attention. He needed to be
subtle, careful in how he expanded.But that was a problem for later.For now, he had a warm bed, a full stomach, and a heavier coin pouch than before.His journey was just beginning.