A/N: Okay, so this has caught my attention for a long time and I decided to try my hand at it. A Game of Thrones gamer story! If you are hoping for Jon to be the Player in this case, you've come to the right one! If you were hoping for someone else to the Player, like Robb, Daenerys or even Tyrion (Though that would be something) then sorry, but you'll have to keep looking. And if you find that story, or write it, let me know I'd like to see it.

I will be using elements from the books but I will be following the TV Series for the most part. Now then, for the disclaimer.

I NEITHER OWN NOR CLAIM TO OWN ANY OF THIS OR GAME OF THRONES, FALLOUT, OR ANY OTHER GAMES I MAY INCLUDE INTO THIS AT A LATER DATE! IT ALL GOES TO THEIR RESPECTIVE AUTHORS/CREATORS: GEORGE R.R. MARTIN, BETHESDA AND ANY OTHERS.

Now, I present to you...

Gamer's Grimoire!


The full moon shone brightly in the dark night sky. It was the only thing shining as there were no stars out tonight.

Nor had there been for a fortnight.

There had been no sun either.

No blue sky.

No birds flying or singing.

No game out in the forests to hunt.

The lions were broken, only a shadow of their former selves.

The roses had finally stopped their reaching, their vines that once grew strong have withered away now.

The stags were all but gone.

The snakes were fewer.

The krakens were stopped, no longer able to terrorize others.

The flayed men have rotted away completely.

The trouts still swim in their rivers though in a far smaller school now.

The mockingbird no longer chirped poisonous whispers into the ears and hearts of others. His corruption was gone at long last.

The rest of the animals had been wary of joining together for the Long Night, but the wolves and dragons had gathered them all together for perhaps one final time.

And so here he was...

He was standing in the courtyard of Castle Black. Word had come of the attack, luckily he and his allies were there to meet the enemy. The main army however was still a distance away, marching toward the Wall. Daenerys was with her dragons, on her way too, but she would not make it in time. Word had come that the undead horde had been sighted a mile away from the Wall, coming ever so closer.

There had already been a preemptive attack. He looked to the top of the Wall and saw spikes of ice gleaming in the moonlight that had not been there mere hours before. There were also sections missing from the top. Sections he could now see having made their way down on their side, right on top on some of the buildings and walkways. What made the situation even worse was that their only means of getting to the top, the lift, had been destroyed. From what the Lord Commander had told him, something up top severed the chains that were used to pull the lift. When they had been cut, the lift came screaming down before being obliterated upon impact. Jon felt Ghost come up to him and nuzzle him at his waist. He merely smiled and scratched Ghost behind the ears.

His direwolf had been his oldest and most fiercest companion of them all. But he knew there was no way of bringing Ghost up there with him. Nor anyone else for that matter.

"It will take too much time to get there by the other castles. Even those nearest to us." Sam said as he walked up beside him study what was once the lift. Sam had always been, and will always be, his most trusted friend. He was studious, intelligent and wise beyond his years.

"Well, we don't have time to waste down here observing our courtesies. We need to find out what's happened." Arya said as she came up on his other side, right beside Ghost. Arya, his beloved sister. As a young girl, she was wild and fierce with her outer appearance matching her personality: ragged and messed up clothing, boy's clothes to be exact, and a rat's nest of dark brown locks. Now... she was a northern beauty as he always knew she would be. Her hair now more controlled and tied into a bun. She had more womanly figure now at age 18. Her personality hadn't changed over the years, but she now knew when to be quiet and think before speaking. Her wardrobe hadn't changed much, but now the clothing she wore was specially made for her. A more... feminine version of riding leathers.

He had caught more than a few of the boys ogling her as she passed by after a day's ride, but Arya had more sense than to just get into a man's bed without knowing him first, thank the gods. But that wasn't important. Jon noticed something at the top of the lift's rails. He activated his Sense to see more. His gray eyes turned to silver and the world he perceived changed around him. Most of the colors muted becoming black and white. Though since it was Castle Black nothing really changed.

The people around him however, did. Sam, Ghost and Arya became highlighted in a green aura signifying them as his genuine allies. The men around them became highlighted in blue meaning they could go either way, but since things were so dire, they might as well have been green. A few however, were red, meaning he couldn't trust them much. But when he looked up he saw a frighteningly familiar figure colored in gold.

'Him.' Jon thought with anger as his Sense deactivated, "You all need to evacuate Castle Black."

Arya, Sam and the rest of the men around them looked at him in alarm, "He's up there."

All the men of Castle Black began running around grabbing everything they could to take away as they evacuated. Jon then approached the lift shaft and studied it. With his current skills he could easily get up there in a few moments. Sam approached him from behind.

"You intend on facing him?" Jon nodded solemnly as he turned to him.

"This fight has been a long time coming, Sam. I'm the only one who can kill him." Sam gazed at him sadly, as if it would be last time they saw each other. Unfortunately, that was most likely the case. Even with his powers and skills, there was no guarantee of victory this time. Especially this time. Sam and Jon embraced as brothers one final time.

"Be sure to come back, Jon." Sam said. His voice almost whimpering like when they first met.

"I always do, don't I?" Jon jested halfheartedly. Sam gave a dry laugh before backing away leaving Jon and Arya a moment to themselves.

"You're really going up there." It wasn't a question. Her face was crestfallen knowing she couldn't stop him, nor go with him. Jon opened his arms up and she ran into them just like she had when they were children. He, a bastard son of the Warden of the North, and she, the trueborn daughter who would rather learn swordfighting than sewing. Arya buried her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. He knew she was crying even as he whispered assurances in her ear.

"Don't worry, Arya. I'll be back soon. And then you can scold me, along with everyone else back home." That managed to get a wet laugh from her, but it was really weak.

"Daenerys, might get to you first since she has Drogon. But Sansa and I will be right behind her." Arya replied making him smile. She pulled away to look up at him. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying. Jon bent down and kissed her forehead. He let go of her shoulders and climbed on to the destroyed lift.

"I will be back." He said before he channeled his magic.

"I love you." He heard Arya whisper.

"I love you too." He said back with a smile. He looked up the shaft.

'700 feet to go, huh?' The wind roared around him making his cloak ripple about before he jumped high into the air. He caught hold of one of the beams of the shaft before jumping again, going higher and higher, distancing himself from the ground by at least 25 feet at a time. A few moments of jumping from beam to beam and he had finally arrived at the top. Jon activated his sense once to feel for his enemy who was a distance away from the lift. He walked towards the pathway before taking a left. The front battlements that had protected the north top of the Wall were completely destroyed, letting in the cold now. Jon just kept moving.

It didn't take him long to find who he was seeking.

Jon Snow stood on the Wall gazing at his enemy. The White Walkers had come back after eight thousand years bringing with them all manner of horrors not seen for generations, including a snowstorm that assaulted all the Seven Kingdoms. The cold winds were biting and howling through the air but Jon did not feel them. Flakes of snow and ice flew through the air, flowing all around him but he payed it no mind. The bits of ice crystals that attempted to cling to him melted off of his black, rippled plate armor. His cloak billowed in chorus with the gales. On the back of it were the heads of a white direwolf and a red dragon chasing each other in a circle.

Off in the distance, he noticed a pale, huge draconic figure with translucent wings soaring south of the Wall. Two smaller figures flew in to intercept the beast, fire blasting first. Even from this distance, he could still see a flash of silver on the larger of the two.

'Dany.' He thought, 'So she's finally arrived.' Even from here, he could feel Rhaegal's presence. Rhaegal was afraid of the creature fighting him, his mother and brother. A creature made of ice was most likely unnatural to a dragon who was, as the Maesters put it, fire made flesh. His gaze turned to his opponent then towards to the north side of the Wall. Seven hundred feet down were dark figures shambling around just a few leagues away from the Wall itself, just out of firing range. Jon was sure the surrounding forests hid the rest their numbers which had to be near a hundred thousand. Ignoring the shouts of people further down the Wall at either side, his eyes moved back to his opponent who had not moved an inch saved for tilting his head as he studied Jon himself.

The Night King

Title: The Great Other
Level:100
Attributes:
-S 100
-P 100
-E 100
-C 100
-I 100
-A 100
-F 100
-W 100

The Night King thinks this about you: [Interesting, Brave, but Stupid]

Jon's eyes narrowed at the pale creature in front of him. Bright, luminous blue eyes stared back at him with the barest of interest. It made no motion even as the moonlight bounced off its pale skin. The ice spikes imbedded all around the top of his head gleamed with light making it look more like an actual crown. The Night King was clad in black ancient looking leather armor and his sword was the strangest weapon Jon had ever seen. Its length and size exceeded Jon's own bastard sword, but the blade was curved, almost like an unbent hook, and its handle was missing the leather grip most weapons of today would have. If that wasn't enough, the blade and handle each took half the weapon's length.

Around the two were the frozen, severed and bloody bodies of fallen members of the Night's Watch, a once proud and ancient order that had stood guard on the Wall since the previous Long Night. Sadly, the Watch had fallen on dark times. Where once honorable and good men lined the Wall over the course of its length of 300 miles and maintaining its nineteen castles was now reduced to under a 1000 men barely able to man the three the castles still in use. Where once noble sons from all over Westerns volunteered to be a Watcher on the Wall, now the only volunteers were criminals avoiding punishment, nobles avoiding embarrassment, and other social outcasts.

'But these men were more than what they were when they first came here.' Jon thought to himself as he gripped his sword's handle. And he was right. These men held their ground against the greatest evil in the world. One far exceeding anything they'd ever done if they were criminals. And if they were of noble birth... they did their houses proud.

Without warning, Jon channeled his magic and leapt into the air with gusts of wind and snow blowing away from him. The Night King followed his example and leapt into the air to meet him. Jon unsheathed his sword, similar to his own armor yet different. Both had a rippled patterns on them, but as his armor was black, his sword was a light grey almost silver color. Jon's blade met the Night King's own crystallized ice sword.

The moment their blades clashed, a loud ring reverberated through the air. A White Walker's blade is made from ice, but it is infused with a powerful magic that strengthened the ice and would shatter any weapon that struck it. The White Walkers' thin black metal armor also had this protection. The White Walkers themselves didn't need to be struck by a weapon to shatter it either. They merely needed to grasp an opponent's weapon and squeeze before it splintered into shards. Whether it be bronze, copper, or steel, a White Walker would destroy it easily.

But Jon's sword didn't break. It was protected by its own magic. All it did when it struck the Night King's blade was sing in defiance of the supernatural creature's power.

The Night King's eyes widened ever so slightly, so much so that Jon wouldn't have noticed it if his Perception wasn't so high. Jon merely smirked at his adversary's surprise. The Night King put more strength behind his attack forcing Jon to do the same. The opposing forces of their equal strengths separated the two making them hover briefly in the air before falling back to the top of the Wall. Even with his magic slowing down his fall Jon still skidded across the icy floor just narrowly missing a couple puddles of blood from a few fallen Watchmen.

As soon as he stopped, Jon stood back up and charged once more. The Night King merely waited for Jon to approach with his ice blade ready. Jon channeled his magic again to gain speed, sword poised to strike. At the last minute, just a few feet away from the White Walker, Jon went to his knees taking advantage of the slippery floor. He slashed the Night King only for the crystalline blade to block him. The momentum he gained while running carried him past the creature for a few more feet. Jon managed to get to one knee before he was forced to block. The Night King's blade came dangerously close to Jon's black curly haired head. Jon's sword sang again as it met with the ice blade. He struggled to keep the blade away from his head knowing that if it got him it was game over. He also had to make sure that the Night King couldn't use the curved edge of his blade to saw him from the back.

Jon pushed forward to get on his other foot, simultaneously pushing the ice blade away, before leaping back to fully stand. The Night King was undeterred and thrust his blade like a spear at Jon's gut. Through years of experience, Jon made use of his level 10 agility as he swerved to the side and held his sword in a reverse grip as he blocked the Night King's blade. Jon pushed the blade away once more, returning his sword back to its proper grip. He faced the palm of his left hand toward the Night King before a torrent of flame burst forth. The Night King, somewhat startled by the unforeseen attack, leapt back instinctively.

With a few meters of distance created between his enemy and himself, Jon pressed his attack by hurtling fireball after fireball at the White Walker. The Night King batted and blocked the attacks with his sword when they came too close to his body while others zoomed passed him hitting the walls around them the whole time backing away. Jon kept going until his mana was halfway drained. He stopped himself knowing he would need to conserve his magic for this battle. He knew from personal experience that it would not end well to let it reach zero.

The Night King stood in a ready stance, but his sword had not come out of the attack unscathed. The blade was now partially melted, reaching only to half its former length with the curved part of it completely gone. Jon raised his sword in challenge. The Night King gripped the end of his blade and brought it up from the end. The crackling of ice filled the air as the melted blade reformed into a spear. Jon glowered at him before he spoke.

"What ever you do, I will not cower in fear!" His words were in the language of the Old Tongue, an ancient dialect of the First Men, his ancestors. From what his younger brother, Bran, had told him the Night King himself was once a First Man. The Night King merely studied him for a moment before his mouth opened.

"Words mortals often hurl at the darkness. Once they were mine." The Night King's words sounded like ice and snow cracking against each other while his stoic face cracked into a near imperceptible smirk, "They are always lies."

The Night King did not speak in the Old Tongue as Jon had believed he would. Instead it was Skroth, the language of the White Walkers. Jon himself could not speak it, but he damn sure understood it.

"Not for me in this case." He replied with defiance. The Night King's smirk became a bit more pronounced.

"You did not seem that way when we last saw each other." At the reminder of that bitter defeat Jon's glare intensified as if he were willing the Night King to burst into flames by sight alone.

"Kind of hard to win when you're outnumbered by tens of thousands." Jon shot back. That had been a bitter memory for him. To watch so many people die only to be reanimated into the horde of undead now shambling below, "But now, I can finish this."

Jon got into a ready stance reminiscent of a lion ready to pounce on his prey or a direwolf ready for vicious battle. The Night King merely looked down to the south side of the Wall. A loud screech drew their attention as well. He saw Drogon take a nose dive before barely managing to pull up, avoiding the ground just in time as Rhaegal kept fighting.

"I must admit, I would be worried about the Dragon Girl if I did not have my own pet. You, however, did not stand a chance." Jon turned just in time to block an icy spear thrust at his neck. Though the ice blade was parried, the Night King caught Jon by surprise. With his quick speed, the Night King latched onto Jon's throat like a vice with his left hand. He lifted Jon off the ground with little effort. Jon could barely breathe, an ability he was losing quickly.

"You are a curious one. The second one to kill one of my lieutenants. The second one to kill one of my kind in thousands of years, actually." He brought Jon down to his level, ignoring his quarry's gasping. Blue eyes bore into Stark gray as he continued,"The first human I know of able to use advanced magic in thousands of years. And the first to understand my language."

Jon felt his neck stinging from the Night King's grasp. But that shouldn't be possible. He was resistant to ice magic! So what was going on?

[WARNING: White Walker Conversion Effect at 3% and rising! If 100% is reached, you will be turned into a White Walker and bound to the Night King forever!]

Oh, Seven Hells! That is definitely bad!

"It would be a grand waste to turn you into a simple Wight. No, you'll be more useful as one of my lieutenants."

[White Walker Conversion Effect at 10% and rising!]

As he desperately tried to break free, Jon Snow found himself thinking about how all this started. He honestly wasn't surprised that the Night King hadn't noticed it. No one did, unless he brought attention to it. That damn book chained to his right wrist had changed everything. Him most of all...

Jon Snow

Title: Defender of the Realm
Level:100
Attributes:
-S 100
-P 100
-E 100
-C 100
-I 100
-A 100
-F 100
-W 100

[White Walker Conversion Effect at 20% and rising!]

...and he wasn't going to fall here!


Okay, so this is my take on a Gamer Plot for Game of Thrones. It's only the first chapter, hopefully. Please like, review, and if you want, provide some ideas.

Peace!

A/N 11/30/2018: For those of you thinking about just giving up on this after reading this chapter, I can respect your decision to do so, however, I urge you to read the following chapter before passing judgement and dismissing this story. Thank you.