GOT: House Redwyne

The journey to the Isle of Ravens was shrouded in an air of foreboding. The sky was a dull, overcast gray, and the waters around the Arbor were unusually still, as if the sea itself was holding its breath. Lord Paxter Redwyne stood at the prow of The Pride of Arbor, his gaze fixed on the dark, jagged silhouette of the island ahead.

Beside him, Ser Martyn Harte and Maester Ferris were similarly silent, their expressions grim. The decision to grant the Shadowbinder the Isle of Ravens had been made out of necessity, but it did little to quell the unease that gnawed at Paxter's heart. The island was a place of legend and fear, a place where even the bravest sailors hesitated to tread.

As the ship drew closer, the details of the Isle of Ravens became clearer. The island was small, dominated by steep cliffs and twisted, gnarled trees that seemed to claw at the sky. Above the highest cliff, a murder of ravens circled endlessly, their black wings beating against the wind. The ruins of an ancient fortress loomed at the island's center, its crumbling walls and towers standing as a testament to a forgotten past.

"This place has seen death," Maester Ferris murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "It is a place where the dead do not rest."

Paxter nodded, though he said nothing. The Isle of Ravens had been abandoned for centuries, its history lost to time and shadow. Some said it was cursed, others that it was a gateway to the lands of the dead. Whatever the truth, it was now the domain of the Shadowbinder, and Paxter had little choice but to see the bargain through.

As the ship neared the shore, a smaller boat was lowered into the water. Paxter, Ser Martyn, and Maester Ferris boarded it, accompanied by a handful of soldiers. The boat cut through the mist, gliding toward a narrow inlet where a rocky beach provided the only accessible landing point.

The silence was oppressive as they stepped onto the beach, the crunch of gravel underfoot the only sound. The air was thick with the scent of salt and decay, and Paxter could feel the weight of the island pressing down on him, as if it were alive and aware of their presence.

The Shadowbinder was waiting for them at the base of the cliffs, his dark robes blending with the shadows that clung to the rocks. His hood was drawn back, revealing a face that was unnervingly smooth and ageless, with those same obsidian eyes that had unnerved Paxter during their first meeting.

"Welcome, Lord Redwyne," the Shadowbinder said, his voice carrying easily across the still air. "You have honored our agreement."

Paxter approached, his expression hard. "The Isle of Ravens is yours, as we agreed. But I expect you to fulfill your end of the bargain."

The Shadowbinder inclined his head, a gesture that was almost respectful. "Of course. My preparations are already underway. The ruins here will serve as a perfect sanctum for the work that must be done."

Paxter glanced up at the crumbling fortress, its dark stones looming against the gray sky. The place radiated an ancient power, one that felt both alluring and dangerous. "What exactly do you intend to do here?"

The Shadowbinder's lips curled into a faint smile. "I will weave the shadows into weapons, into defenses that will protect you from the Red Priestess's magic. But first, I must strengthen the veil between this world and the next. The Isle of Ravens is a place where that veil is thin, where the dead and the living are closer than they should be. It is here that I can draw on the power needed to counter her flames."

Paxter felt a chill run down his spine. The Shadowbinder spoke of things that defied understanding, of forces that were not meant to be tampered with. Yet, he knew that they had no choice. The Red Priestess had proven her power at Dragonstone, and they needed every advantage they could get.

"See that you do," Paxter said, his voice firm. "But remember, Shadowbinder, our bargain does not grant you free reign. We will be watching."

The Shadowbinder's eyes gleamed with a strange light. "I would expect nothing less, Lord Redwyne. But be warned—what I do here is not for the faint of heart. There are things that even you, with all your power and resolve, may not wish to see."

Paxter held the Shadowbinder's gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "We will do what must be done."

The Shadowbinder's smile widened, though it was more a baring of teeth than an expression of warmth. "Very well. I shall begin my work immediately. You will hear from me when the time is right."

With that, the Shadowbinder turned and began to ascend the narrow path that wound up the cliffside to the fortress. His movements were fluid, almost unnatural, as if he were more shadow than man. Paxter watched him go, the unease in his chest growing with every step the man took.

Ser Martyn stepped up beside him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "My lord, this place… it feels wrong. Are we truly making the right decision?"

Paxter's jaw tightened. "I don't know, Martyn. But what choice do we have? The Red Priestess will not stop until she has burned us all. We need the Shadowbinder's power, however dark it may be."

Maester Ferris approached, his expression somber. "We must tread carefully, my lord. The Isle of Ravens is a place of great power, but also great danger. The Shadowbinder's work here could have consequences we cannot foresee."

"I'm aware," Paxter said quietly. "But we've already committed to this path. Now we must see it through."

The soldiers, who had been keeping a wary distance, began to unload the supplies they had brought for the garrison that would be stationed on the nearby islands. Paxter had no intention of leaving the Shadowbinder unchecked, and he had ordered a watch to be kept on the Isle of Ravens at all times. No matter what the Shadowbinder claimed, Paxter would ensure that the Arbor remained safe.

As the day wore on, the fortress loomed larger as they climbed the winding path to its gates. The walls were pitted and worn by centuries of wind and salt, but the structure still held an imposing presence. The ravens that circled above seemed to watch their every move, their harsh cries echoing through the air.

The Shadowbinder was already inside the fortress when they arrived, his dark figure standing in the center of a large, open courtyard. The stones beneath their feet were cold, and Paxter could feel a strange vibration in the air, as if the island itself was alive with some ancient energy.

"This place will do nicely," the Shadowbinder said, his voice carrying easily across the courtyard. "The power here is strong, and it will serve as the foundation for the defenses I will create."

Paxter stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the ruined walls and the dark entrance to what appeared to be a subterranean chamber. "What exactly do you need from us?"

"Nothing more than your trust, Lord Redwyne," the Shadowbinder replied, though there was a note of amusement in his voice. "The work I do here will take time, and it must not be disturbed. Your men will be safe as long as they do not interfere."

Paxter frowned. "And what of the power you will create? How will we know when it is ready?"

"You will know," the Shadowbinder said simply. "When the time comes, I will summon you. But until then, I suggest you prepare yourselves for the battle ahead. The Red Priestess will not wait for you to be ready."

Paxter exchanged a glance with Ser Martyn and Maester Ferris. There was little more to be said. The Shadowbinder had made it clear that his work was beyond their understanding, and they would have to trust that he would keep his word.

With a final nod, Paxter turned to leave the fortress, his men following close behind. As they made their way back down the cliffside, the weight of their decision pressed heavily on him. The Isle of Ravens was now a place of dark power, a place where shadows and spirits mingled, and where the line between life and death was blurred.

But Paxter had made his choice, and there was no turning back. The battle against the Red Priestess would come, and when it did, they would need every advantage they could muster. Even if it meant making a bargain with a man who commanded shadows and wielded powers that defied comprehension.

As they boarded the boat and pushed off from the shore, Paxter looked back at the Isle of Ravens, now shrouded in the mists that clung to its cliffs. The ravens still circled above, their cries piercing the silence, and the fortress loomed like a dark sentinel, watching over the island's secrets.

The journey back to the Arbor was somber, the mood of the men heavy with the knowledge of what they had set in motion. Paxter's thoughts were consumed with the coming conflict, with the Red Priestess and the Shadowbinder, with the darkness that was closing in from all sides.

As the Arbor came into view, Paxter knew that there was no turning back. The shadows were growing longer, and the night was drawing near. But he would not falter. For the sake of his family, his people, and the future of Westeros, Paxter Redwyne would see this through to the end.

No matter what the cost, Paxter was determined to protect his people and his lands from the encroaching darkness. As The Pride of Arbor glided smoothly into the harbor, the sight of the familiar vineyards and stone buildings should have brought him comfort, but instead, it only deepened the sense of unease that gnawed at his soul. The Arbor was a place of light and life, but it was now intertwined with the dark forces that had taken root on the Isle of Ravens.

The ship docked, and the crew moved with quiet efficiency, securing lines and preparing to disembark. Paxter lingered at the prow for a moment, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon where the Isle of Ravens lay hidden in the mist. The Shadowbinder's words echoed in his mind, a reminder of the perilous path they had chosen.

"Lord Paxter," Ser Martyn said, breaking through his thoughts. "We should address the men. They need to know what comes next."

Paxter nodded, pushing aside his doubts. There was no room for hesitation now. "Gather them in the courtyard. I will speak to them shortly."

Ser Martyn inclined his head and departed, leaving Paxter with Maester Ferris. The old maester had been uncharacteristically silent during the return journey, his brow furrowed with worry. Paxter turned to him now, seeking the counsel of the man who had been at his side through many trials.

"What do you make of this, Ferris?" Paxter asked quietly. "Do you believe we have made the right decision?"

Ferris hesitated, his eyes reflecting the weight of his thoughts. "I believe, my lord, that we are walking a fine line between necessity and danger. The Shadowbinder is not a man to be trusted, but his power may be the only thing that can counter the Red Priestess. It is a risk, but one that may be necessary for our survival."

Paxter sighed, the weight of leadership pressing down on him. "I fear what this alliance may bring, Ferris. But I cannot see any other way forward. We are caught between the hammer and the anvil, and we must choose the path that gives us a fighting chance."

Ferris nodded, though the concern in his eyes remained. "We will stand with you, my lord. Whatever comes, we will face it together."

With that, Paxter made his way to the courtyard, where the men had gathered as instructed. The soldiers and sailors of House Redwyne were a disciplined lot, but even they could not hide the anxiety that hung over them like a shroud. They had heard the whispers of the Shadowbinder, of the Isle of Ravens, and the fear of the unknown was etched into their faces.

Paxter mounted the steps of the courtyard's stone platform, his presence commanding immediate attention. The men fell silent, their eyes fixed on their lord, waiting for his words to dispel the uncertainty that gripped them.

"Men of the Arbor," Paxter began, his voice strong and clear. "We stand at a crossroads. The events at Dragonstone have shown us that we are facing a threat unlike any we have ever known. The Red Priestess wields powers that defy the natural order, and we cannot fight her with swords and shields alone."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "To counter this threat, we have made an alliance with a man known as the Shadowbinder. He is not of Westeros, and his methods are not our own. But he possesses knowledge and power that we need if we are to protect our lands and our people."

A murmur ran through the crowd, a mix of unease and curiosity. Paxter raised his hand for silence, his expression stern. "I know this is not an easy path, and I do not ask you to trust this man blindly. But I ask you to trust me, to trust in our strength as a house and as a people. We will face this darkness together, and we will prevail."

The men nodded, some more reluctantly than others, but there was a growing resolve in their eyes. Paxter's words had given them something to hold on to, a sense of purpose in the face of the unknown.

"We will fortify our defenses," Paxter continued. "We will prepare for the battle ahead, and we will watch the Isle of Ravens closely. The Shadowbinder is our ally for now, but we will not allow him to overstep his bounds. This is our home, and we will protect it."

The men straightened, their fear giving way to determination. They had faced many challenges before, and they would face this one as well. Paxter felt a flicker of hope, a reminder that they were not alone in this fight.

"Dismissed," he said, and the men began to disperse, their steps more confident than before.

As the courtyard emptied, Paxter remained on the platform, his thoughts once again returning to the Isle of Ravens. The Shadowbinder was an enigma, a man who had walked out of legend and into their lives with promises of power and protection. But what price would they ultimately pay for his aid?

Lady Mina joined him, her presence a balm to his troubled soul. She had been his rock throughout this ordeal, and her support was something he could not afford to lose.

"You spoke well," she said, her voice filled with quiet pride. "The men trust you, Paxter. They will follow you through whatever comes."

"I only hope that I am leading them in the right direction," Paxter replied, his voice tinged with doubt. "The Shadowbinder is not a man I would have chosen as an ally under any other circumstances. But what choice do we have?"

Mina placed her hand on his arm, her touch warm and reassuring. "We do what we must to survive. The Red Priestess is a threat we cannot ignore, and if the Shadowbinder can help us defeat her, then we must take that chance."

Paxter looked down at her, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. "I don't know what I would do without you, Mina. You give me strength when I have none left."

"And you give me hope," she replied, her eyes shining with resolve. "We will get through this, Paxter. The Arbor will stand, and so will we."

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the vineyards and the stone walls of the keep, Paxter felt a renewed sense of purpose. The path they had chosen was dangerous, but it was the only one that offered a chance of victory. The Shadowbinder's powers would soon be tested, and when the time came, they would be ready.

The shadows were deepening, and the night was drawing near. But Paxter Redwyne was not a man to be easily swayed by fear. He would face the darkness head-on, with his family and his people by his side.

For House Redwyne, for the Arbor, and for the future of Westeros, Paxter would stand firm. The battle was coming, and he would not rest until the light of the Arbor shone brightly once more.

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Paxter turned and led Lady Mina back inside the keep. The preparations were far from over, and there was much to be done. But for now, they would take solace in the quiet moments, in the knowledge that they were not alone in this fight.

The night was dark, and full of terrors. But Paxter Redwyne would face them all, and he would not falter. The Arbor was his home, and he would defend it to his last breath.