Okay so this my rewrite of Gamer's Grimoire. I am currently interested in having a partner for this story, so if anyone is interested please notify me through a PM or a review. Now that that's out in the open, please enjoy.

The day everything changed had started out ordinarily enough. He had woken up in his bed, gotten up, and attended his lessons with Ser Rodrik Cassel, Winterfell's Master-at-arms, and Maester Luwin. He'd done some training in private while Robb was with Father learning the expectations and responsibilities of being a Lord, and when he hadn't been training he had kept an eye on Bran who loved to climb the castle walls since he was very young.

Jon wouldn't scold Bran too much about his adventures. While the young Stark's climbing did scare his lady mother, Catelyn Stark, to death, Jon, and the other Stark siblings, were more than confident that Bran wouldn't fall. But Jon was still his older brother, and it was his duty to look after him when no one else was around. He was sure that if she were not forced into it, Arya would rather be with him than having lessons with Septa Mordane. Out of all of them, Arya was his favorite sibling.

While all of his other half-siblings took after their mother in looks, auburn hair and blue eyes, Arya was the only one who took after their father, Eddard Stark, like Jon himself. Father, Arya and himself sported grey eyes and dark hair. Eddard Stark was the Lord of Winterfell, Lord-Paramount of the North, and Warden of the North. Those last two titles go hand-in-hand from what he remembered from his lessons with Maester Luwin. To add on to that, he was also a close, personal friend to the current king of the realm, Robert Baratheon. In short, his father was one of the most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Widely regarded as a stoic, dutiful, and honorable man, Eddard Stark was considered to embody the values of the North. There was only one thing that stained his honor.

Jon himself.

Jon wasn't his trueborn son, but a bastard born out of wedlock. If that wasn't bad enough, Lord Stark had already been married. Jon wasn't foolish enough to be ignorant of his existence being a very sore spot for Lady Catelyn. Lord Stark would not let his bastard son be raised away from him, and in a highly unusual circumstance, raised Jon alongside Robb, the first trueborn son and heir to Winterfell, and later on with Sansa, Arya, Bran, and little Rickon. Jon wasn't expecting to see either Sansa or Rickon. Rickon stayed near his mother clinging to her skirts, and Jon tried his best to avoid her when he could. As for Sansa... she would avoid him or be very distant when neither could leave the room.

Once upon a time she had been as close to him as Arya was now, but that all changed when she found out what being a bastard meant. It wasn't immediate, but the close relationship they had melted away within months and soon enough she wasn't calling him brother like the rest of their siblings. It was half-brother. That hurt Jon more than he would willingly admit to Robb, who had remained his closest of companions, but this wasn't the time to be reminiscing about old wounds. A Rickon running at him at top speed caught his attention.

"Jon! Ser Rodrik told Mother that it was time for Bran to practice archery! Do you know where he is? She can't find him!" The little boy of six namedays said. Jon sighed before giving him a smile.

"Don't worry Rickon, I'll get Bran over to the shooting range. Go tell your lady mother not to worry." He said as he ruffled Rickon's red locks. The youngest Stark son giggled before chirping an okay to him and running off to do as he was told. Jon looked up the wall that Bran was climbing down.

"Bran!" Jon shouted. The boy of 10 looked down at him in surprise, "It's time to practice your archery. You want to be a knight don't you?!" Bran's big smile was easily seen by Jon despite the distance of space between the two.

"Okay! I'll be right down!" He shouted back.

"Hurry, your mother's looking for you right now." Bran swiftly got to the ground with no trouble at all and began running toward the shooting range with Jon following at a much slower pace. They arrived within a few moments to find both Ser Rodrik, a stout man, broad, with large white whiskers, and Robb, stocky as ever, already there waiting. Along with Rickon.

"Oh that was fast. You found Lady Stark quickly, eh?" Jon asked Rickon who was sitting on an unused saddle.

"Huh?" Rickon said, looking at him funnily before going wide-eyed, "Oh! No. I couldn't find mother so I just came here." It was now Ser Rodrik's, Robb's and Jon's turn to go wide-eyed. Robb excused himself to go tell his mother that Bran was at his lesson safe and sound, something which Jon was grateful for. Even though she might not voice it, he feared that if she had not learned of Bran's location soon enough, she might have blamed Jon for the young boy's lateness some fashion. Don't get him wrong, Lady Catelyn wasn't abusive, just... cold to him. Her attitude was well within her rights, as she was forced to open her home to her husband's bastard. He knew she didn't trust him, let alone like him. He was a reminder of her husband's infidelity. A threat to her children's inheritance. The fact that he looked more like his father than any of her children couldn't have eases her fears at all either.

As Bran fired an arrow and missed, Jon remembered once when a visiting lord had mistaken him for Robb. To this day, he swears that the glare Lady Stark gave him then could cut through steel far better than anything else. He shook himself out of that unpleasant memory. There was no need to revisit that. Jon studied Bran for a moment before Ser Rodrik spoke.

"I must check on a few things. Keep practicing Lord Brandon. Jon, keep an eye on him."

"Yes, Ser." Jon replied not taking his eyes off of his little brother. Ser Rodrik left to go perform his other duties while Jon stayed with Bran, watching him miss. It was actually kind of funny, but he held himself in to spare Bran's feelings. Robb returned as Jon was giving Bran some advice. Jon noticed that Robb had brought his parents to watch Bran practice. The Lord and Lady Stark were on the bridge that overlooked the area. Jon took his place beside Robb.

"How's he doing?" Robb whispered to him so as not to disturb Bran

"Better than yesterday," Bran missed again, hitting the stone wall behind the target, "but not by much."

"At least he's not going over the wall this time." Robb muttered. At that precise moment, Bran's latest shot scored a barrel right beside the target. Bran stomped the ground in frustration, ready to throw his bow to join his foot on the ground. Jon walked around him and placed his hands on his shoulders from behind.

"Go on. Father's watching," The two looked behind up to where his father and his lady wife was watching from, "and your mother." Bran got a determined look on his face before drawing another arrow. The next few shots were terrible. Bless Bran's little heart. He tried and tried but each one was funnier than the last to the point where Robb and Jon were really having trouble holding it in. When Bran fired his latest one it went right over the target, the wall behind it, and into the tree. Jon laughed while Robb, turned away to hide his own laughter. Jon could hear little Rickon giggling too.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" His father chastised making all them look up. The absolute lack of amusement and stoicism in his father's face reduced Jon's mirth and from what he could tell it had affected Robb too. Memories of both of them doing just as bad as Bran when they were his age came to the forefront of Jon's mind.

"Keep practicing, Bran." Bran looked at their father with doubt and, to Jon, as if he wanted to quit, "go on." Father's tone had been noticeably lighter and warmer which seemed to give Bran the encouragement he needed. Bran nocked another arrow before aiming.

"Don't think too much Bran." Jon advised remembering his time training with archery. He had often found himself hitting the target more when he wasn't so focused on aiming and instead trusting his body. Bran drew the arrow as he still aimed, trembling a little which would offset his aim.

"Relax your bow-arm." Robb added upon seeing it too. Bran did exactly as he was told and the amount of focus he showed made Jon believe that he would certainly hit the target this time. An arrow sped past them and struck the target dead center. All three turned as one to see none other than Arya Stark standing there under the bridge. Her hair was done in an elaborate braid and bun while donning a blue dress, one which Jon knew she hated wearing. She gave all three of them a sweet smile and curtsey. Bran dropped his bow and charged at his sister who sped away with Bran right on her heels. Robb and Jon laughed, cheering Bran on to get her as they ran through the courtyard.

Jon briefly heard Ser Rodrik call for his father before Robb told him to assist in getting the arrows. Rickon, not wanting to be left out, volunteered to help by taking the arrows from Robb and giving them to Jon who would place them back in their stand. As he did so he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand which meant someone was watching him. He looked up to see the frigid blue eyes of Catelyn Stark. He stared back for a moment before looking back down. It was the same thing on a different day. That's all that look was to him.

It would be when Theon Greyjoy, his father's ward and hostage, approached him and Robb, telling them about a deserter from the Night's Watch. There was to be an execution and what's more Bran was to attend this time. All of them rode to the executioner's block. Two guardsman brought forth a man who wore the same garb as his Uncle Benjen who also served on the Wall. This man wasn't what Jon would expect a man of the Night's Watch to be; he was thin and wore no armor. He had fair hair of blonde or light brown, Jon couldn't tell specifically. His face however was red and cracked as were his lips. A sure sign of frostbite. His eyes, even from his place several yards away, Jon could only see fear in them. He kept muttering about White Walkers which was preposterous. The White Walkers were long gone, an old story now.

He whispered to Bran to not turn away when Father had executed the man. Jon praised him when he didn't. After the execution was over, they headed back home with Robb and himself racing against one another, only to come across a grizzly sight.

A stag had been disemboweled by something large. From what Jon could see it had been dead long enough for maggots to set in so most likely a few hours at the least.

"What is it?" Jon asked as his father walked up to inspect the stag. Upon a closer look, one of its antlers had been broken in half. Whatever could do that to a stag wasn't something they could leave lurking around on their lands. If it attacked someone at a nearby town or inn, it would be their fault.

"Mountain lion?" Theon offered.

"There are no mountain lions in these woods." Lord Stark replied as he took in their surroundings, searching for any signs. Lord Stark's gaze settled on the ground just in front of Jon who followed his line of sight. On the ground were drag marks and blood which led down the river away from the bridge. Lord Stark led the party down the trail. As they walked further along, they noticed a huge shape right beside the river. Lord Stark and Jory Cassel, Ser Rodrik's nephew, unsheathed their swords just in case. The shape hadn't moved at all. As they got closer, Jon could hear the yips and squeals of young animals, which made him tense. He knew that mothers, animals and humans alike, were very protective of their young, and would fight to the death to protect them if need be.

Jory stopped when they got close enough while Lord Stark continued to move closer, his blade lowered now seeing the creature was dead. Jon stood right beside him as he kneeled down. Jon recognized the beast, but he could scarcely believe his eyes, having only read about it in books and stories.

"It's a freak!" Theon said upon seeing it up close. Jon repressed the urge to snap at him for his ignorance.

"It's a direwolf." Lord Stark corrected looking as disbelieving as Jon felt. Jon knelt beside his father in awe as he kept his eyes on the dead beast. She was as big as a small horse and still had her newborn pups, which were the size of young dogs, suckling on her for milk. They all had somewhat different coloring in their coats, all five of them. Jon looked over at her face which was marked and bloodied. The missing antler piece from the stag earlier was stabbed into her throat.

"Tough old beast." His father said as he pulled the antler from her throat. About six inches of it had pierced into her neck from what Jon could tell.

"There are no direwolves south of the Wall." Robb said.

Jon looked at him briefly before replying, "Now there are five."

He picked up a pup which had silvery grey fur before holding it toward Bran whose eyes hadn't strayed from the pups since he saw them.

"You want to hold it?" Jon asked. Bran nodded before reaching and carefully taking the pup from his grasp. Jon saw all the older men looking at each other wondering the same question he was thinking: What to do with them?

"Where will they go? Their mother's dead." Bran asked unknowingly voicing their thoughts.

"They don't belong down here." Ser Rodrik said evenly.

"Better a quick death," Lord Stark agreed. Out of the corner of his eye, Jon saw Theon move, a little too quickly for his liking, around them before pulling out his dirk and reaching for the pup in Bran's arms, "they won't last without their mother."

"Right, give it here." Theon grabbed the pup by the scruff of its neck making it squeak in pain. Its siblings yipped and squeaked along with it having heard their littermate's distress.

"No!" Bran shouted with equal distress.

"Put away your blade!" Robb ordered in distaste at seeing the Greyjoy's willingness to kill the pup so quickly. The pup was still whining about as it hung in Theon's grasp. Jon never liked Theon. The ward was always arrogant and vain, so proud of being an Ironborn. The lot of them were just a bunch of reavers, raiders and rapists. They were, in one word, pirates. Their naval forces were once unmatched and echoes of their age old reputation is still known throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Once they even had a hold on the riverlands just south of the Neck. They've long since fallen from their former glory, and any attempts at reclaiming their old ways were swiftly and violently stomped out. That was the real reason Theon was here in the first place. His family's rebellion cost the lives of his two older brothers making him the heir and a perfect hostage to make sure his father, Balon, wouldn't step out of line again. Now Jon had to suffer the arrogant heir's foolishness.

"I take orders from your father. Not you!" Theon snarked back at Robb though he hadn't stabbed the whining pup yet. Robb was always able to stand Theon more than Jon ever could having made a friendship with the heir of the Iron Islands.

"Please, Father!" Bran begged. Jon turned to the other pups counting them, an idea forming in his head; an idea that might save them.

"I'm sorry, Bran." Lord Stark said as he turned away. Bran was about to beseech his father once more when Jon spoke.

"Lord Stark," Their father turned to him in acknowledgment. Jon gestured to the pups with his hand, continuing, "there are five pups. One for each of the Stark children." Bran realized what Jon was getting at and looked up at their father hopefully, "The direwolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have them."

Jon's words had seemed to have a much deeper impact than Bran's did with their father as the Lord of Winterfell seemed to consider Jon's words. Jon himself wasn't one to believe in mystical things aside from the gods, but he knew his father was a bit more receptive to them. Even Jon himself had to admit that it was a striking coincidence. Five direwolf pups, the same amount as all of trueborn Stark children. Lord Stark looked from each pup before looking back at Jon and then Bran who was looking at him with big eyes. With a sigh he said, "You will train them yourselves, you will feed them yourselves, and if they die... you will bury them yourselves."

He walked away followed by Ser Rodrik and Jory, leaving the boys to pick up the pups. Theon handed the pup back to Bran who held it tenderly. The pup was much more appreciative to be back in gentler hands now, as were the other pups at seeing their littermate's safety back. Jon picked up two before handing them to Robb who handed them to Theon. Robb moved around them to the remaining two.

"What about you?" Bran asked looking up at Jon now. He had forgotten that Bran was a sharp lad when he wanted to be. And it warmed Jon's heart that he was thinking about him as his big brother still. But that warmth cooled when reality set in.

"I'm not a Stark." Those words seemed to define him more than anything. He had the blood. He had the looks. But he didn't have the name. And in this world, a world where a name meant everything, he most likely never would. No matter how much he wished it. Noticing that Robb and Theon were walking away, their arms full of squirming bundles of fur, Jon gestured for Bran to start moving too.

"Get on." And with that they headed back to the bridge. Jon looked at the backs of Robb and Bran, as well as the five pups who kept mewling. He envied his brothers and sisters in this moment. They had another reminder of them being Starks while he had nothing. He wasn't jealous of them. No, jealousy implied that he resented them for what they had. And he hadn't resented any of them in a very long time. In fact, the last time he resented any of them was when he and Robb found out that he was a bastard. That time had been rocky to say the least. Lady Stark, seeing that now Robb knew, tried to get him to stop associating himself with Jon since bastards were known to be the scum of the realm. Robb, while shaken that they didn't have the same mother, and somewhat petulant that their father hadn't told them before, wouldn't hear of it. Things had chilled between mother and son and they had gotten distant with each other over it, but Robb wouldn't abandon Jon. Jon himself had, with shame now, resented the fact that Robb got to live his mother while he didn't even know the name of his own. For some reason father never mentioned her, no matter how many times his wife, or his sons, asked. Still, Jon got over his resentment in time, as more Stark children came to be born. He accepted his place in the world with a grain of salt.

Though that didn't mean it didn't tear at him from time to time.

A small yip broke Jon from his depressing thoughts as they neared the bridge. He stopped having noticed something in the brush near a tree. A small mewl. At first he thought it was the pups, but it was far too close to be them. Jon noticed that Bran's pup's muzzle was pointing at the tree whining, as was the large grey pup's in Robb's arms too. Jon walked over and moved the brush aside to find something that made his eyes widened and his heart soar.

"What is it?" Robb asked having seen him move over to the tree. So he had been the only one to hear it then? Jon reached in and gently grabbed the small thing from the base of the tree. In his grasp was a small, direwolf pup. Unlike the rest of his litter, he, for he was definitely a he by the way Jon held him, had beautiful white fur. He was much more fragile looking than the rest. Curiously, his eyes were open, revealing crimson orbs while the rest of his siblings were still blind.

"The runt of the litter." Theon spoke having stopped with Robb, his derisive smirk still showing, "That one's your's, Snow."

Robb smiled at Jon, having already thought that he would feel left out. Bran smiled too having been on the same line of thought as Robb. The moment was almost spoiled as Theon continued, "An albino. This one will die."

Jon gave Theon his best cold look which wiped the smirk off his face.

"I think not, Greyjoy." The small albino pup looked up at Jon as he nestled him in his arms, "This one is mine."

It looks like the gods had given Jon a small mercy. He would take precious care of it.

It would be a fortnight before the pups could do anything big, save for Ghost, Jon's pup. Ghost had been more active than the other pups having already moved away from their mother. Sansa, Arya, and Rickon had gotten their pups with delight on their faces. They all promised Father the same thing: To take care of each pup, without assistance from others in the castle. As each of the Stark children found their pup, Ghost had practically attached himself to Jon's side. Strangely enough, each pup reflected their owner.

Grey Wind was largest of the litter, and most likely the leader of the pack, who had been claimed by Robb who was expected to take after Father as lord. Robb was also the one who lead the other siblings.

Lady, Sansa's direwolf, and second smallest of the litter, was a gentle little thing, taking after her mistress in almost every way. Dainty and trusting. That's what she was.

Nymeria. Three guesses whose direwolf she was. Arya kept her close and she seemed to have inherited Arya's wild side. Though thankfully it had just been hyperactivity. No one's been bitten... yet.

Bran's direwolf had yet to be named, but even Jon could see that the two were inseparable. The pup didn't leave Bran's side for a moment since he brought him home.

Rickon's direwolf, whom he christened as Shaggydog, was black with green eyes. With Rickon being so young, Shaggydog had yet to exhibit any noticeable traits that were shared between the two, though Jon did notice that Shaggydog seemed to tense when he was taken from the freedom of the outdoors.

Each direwolf ranged from silvery grey to pure black fur with one exception: Ghost.

Ghost by all accounts to Jon, had reflected him in almost every way. Like Jon, he was related to his siblings, but he was the odd one out too. Jon was quiet, so was Ghost. Jon stood apart from his siblings due to his birth status, Ghost stood apart due to his appearance. The two had gotten so close that Jon had let Ghost sleep in his bed from time to time.

Within a sennight, the pups were already walking, looking around and exploring. Within a fortnight, they were weened and already the size of juvenile dogs. They were even fit to hunt.

And that is when it was found.

During one such hunt, Jon and Ghost had broken away from the main party to come upon a cave. Jon did not trust it because he could not see into it well. A few feet in was all he could see before pitch blackness. Ghost had leapt in within a moment of looking at it. Jon called for Ghost hoping that the little pup hadn't just jumped into a bear's den. Ghost came out of the darkness with something in his mouth. Jon took it from his maw and examined it.

"What in seven hells did you find?" He asked as he looked it over. It was a book, and a small one at that. Barely larger than Jon's hand. It was clasped in chains, Jon saw, before he stashed it away, not liking his, and Ghost's, close proximity to the cave. He stashed the book into his cloak's pocket and went back to the hunting party. Later on, after having returned home, sparred and trained with his brother and the Master-at-arms, eaten his dinner and lain on to his bed did Jon remember the book in his cloak pocket. Jon got out of the bed and walked over to his cloak which lain on his chair. His room was small. It had a small hearth, a bed, a desk and chair for his studies, a small closet, one window which showed the night sky, and a chamber pot for him to do his business. His hand rummaged in his cloak for a second before pulling out the book. Now that he had gotten a good look at it, he was intrigued by it even more.

The book was bound in dark leather. Worn and aged, but in remarkable condition. The pages were white, almost brand new, which was odd since old books have yellow pages after a certain point. It was kept shut in chains which bound it at the front by a four pointed star-like clasp. In the middle of said clasp was a milky white jewel. In the bottom right corner of the cover were the initials G.G. stamped into the leather. Jon thought over the families in Westeros whose name began with a G, but none had lived in these parts of the North for a long time. Perhaps it was one of the extinct houses like Greenwood or Greystark? Jon looked closer at the cover to see some type illustration that had been stamped into the center of it, but the chain obscured most of it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon saw Ghost lying near the hearth, watching him as his tail wagged back and forth across the floor. The only real sign of his direwolf's excitement. Jon placed his thumb on the milky white clasp. Without any warning a sharp sting inflamed his thumb causing him to drop the book. He heard Ghost's claws scrape the ground as he got up in alarm at seeing his master's surprise. Jon examined his thumb to see that it been cut, blood beginning to drip out. A single drop of blood pooled together before falling. Jon followed the drop as it fell upon book. Right on the clasp.

Jon sucked the blood from his thumb. Damn that had hurt! He reached down to pick up the book before he froze in shock. The blood that had landed on the clasp was being sucked up by the jewel imbedded in it almost as if it were drinking it. The jewel changed color as it absorbed the blood, its pale milky white turning as crimson as the blood it assimilated. For a tense moment nothing happened. The silence was broken when Ghost began to whine. As if sensing it, the book floated from the ground until it was eye level with Jon. With an audible click, the chains were released from their clasp and the book opened. The first pages were blank, but Jon dared not touch them. In fact, he was ready to bolt out of the door. When he tried to move, Jon found himself unable to. His legs refused to budge even an inch!

There was a tingle in his spine that gradually spread over his legs and body. When it reached his head, he heard the tinkling of the smallest of bells. It was the softest chime he had ever heard. He could feel it all over him. As soon as the tingling reached his eyes, the book began to glow illuminating the room. Jon noticed his pup run underneath his bed hiding from it. He actually wanted to join Ghost with what was happening. Was this magic? Had Ghost brought him some magical artifact from a bygone age that was going to kill him now?

The Light faded from the book instantly and whatever hold that it had on Jon was lifted from him. He could move again as he looked himself over for any damage from an unseen danger. There wasn't anything; no bruises, nothing broken. The only thing that had really been hurt had been his thumb-

Jon's eyes widened. He hadn't noticed the sting from the cut had lessened during those few moments, but now he saw it. His thumb had been healed. There was no mark. No blood. It was it if never happened.

'How?!' He thought before looking back up at the book which was still floating in the air. This time, there was writing on the pages.

Are you [male] or [female]?

What kind of foolishness? The words came out of his mouth in confusion more than anything at the absurd question.

"Of course, I'm male! What kind of question is that?" The writing changed into another sentence in response to his question.

[Male] selected: Is this correct? [Yes] or [No]

Jon's confusion skyrocketed. This thing could understand him? Footsteps outside in the hall caught his attention making him cease any movement. The footsteps paused outside of his door for a few brief seconds before continuing on. He turned back to the book. He reached up to grab it as his thumb scraped the part that had yes on it. The writing disappeared. Jon sat down, stunned by the magical writing before the page moved of its own accord. Jon took his thumb off the page, but still held it tentatively. As soon as the page turned there were a new set of words.

Choose your Distant Ancestry: Parentage is pre-selected

Jon sucked in a breath. This... if this book held genuine magic... it could tell him who his mother was! He could finally put a name to her. The woman who gave birth to him... the woman whom he knew nothing about. How many times had he thought of her? He had always pictured her to be a woman of noble birth and was kind. Jon had always felt her absence, especially when he saw Lady Stark interact with her children. He wanted that, but no one could ever give it to him. At least now finding out her name would bring him some closure.

[Mother]: Lyanna Stark

That breath he'd been holding was joined by another. His hands were shaking now as his heart thundered painfully in his chest as if it were trying to punch its way out. Was this... was this real? No! It couldn't be! Lord Stark would never resort to incest! They were not Targaryens! The closest the Starks ever came to incest was with his grandparents and they were cousins, not brother and sister. After a few attempts to calm himself down and think about it rationally, he realized something. He was right that Lord Stark would not sleep with his own sister, but that lead to another question: If his mother was truly Lyanna Stark, who Lord Stark would not share a bed with, then who was his actual father? He looked back down at the book.

[Father]: Rhaegar Targaryen

No bloody way. This... His mind rejected the very idea with a lurch. His father had been Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. Seventeen years ago, the same age he was, Rhaegar had kidnapped Lyanna a few leagues from Harrenhal, the place where they first met. From what Jon could remember from his history lessons, Rhaegar had already been married to Elia Martell and had two children with her. His Uncle Brandon, who had been heir to Winterfell and the original fiancé to Catelyn Tully, was traveling to the riverlands to wed her when he heard about it. Uncle Brandon had charged down to the capital with several companions and, quite foolishly, demanded Rhaegar to come out and die. Mad King Aerys had not taken kindly to such a threat and had arrested Uncle Brandon for treason. Then he summoned Jon's grandfather, Rickard Stark, to answer for his son's crimes. Knowing he would get no justice from the Mad King, Lord Rickard demanded a trial by combat as was his right.

However, when he came out in his plate armor and sword ready to fight what he had thought to be a Kingsguard, Aerys named his champion fire. In an act of cruelty that is still remembered to this day, Aerys had Lord Rickard suspended over a flame of wildfire before bringing in Uncle Brandon to watch his own father roast. Aerys had Uncle Brandon tied to something with a noose around his neck, and gave him the option of reaching for a sword to save his father. Uncle Brandon strangled himself reaching for that sword that had been placed just far enough to be out of reach while his own father roasted alive. That would spark the war that would be known as Robert's Rebellion and an end to the Targaryen Dynasty.

A wave of anger came over Jon. If his father was truly Rhaegar Targaryen, then he was Aerys' own grandson. To be related to that monster was sickening alone for Jon. But what of his mother and father? Had he been child of... he gulped as the word crossed his mind... rape? Or were the stories somehow wrong? Had there been, against everyone else's words, love between the two?

Either way, Jon could understand why his fa- uncle- Lord Stark brought him here. Being a member of the old dynasty was dangerous to the new one. King Robert Baratheon's hatred of those with Targaryen blood was infamous. Jon was sure if it had been revealed, that Robert would have had him killed, regardless of who his mother was or who protected him. And if by some miracle, the King would leave him alone, the Lannisters surely wouldn't. They were responsible for the deaths of... of... his true half-siblings. Jon never condoned that part of the story. Even if he hated Aerys and Rhaegar with his very being, he could never have wanted the death of Rhaegar's children, Rhaenys and Aegon. Though it was never confirmed about how they died, everyone practically knew that Lord Tywin had ordered it.

Tywin Lannister proved his loyalty to Robert by sacking King's Landing and having the royal family murdered. And doing so gained the hatred of Dorne and the mistrust of the Seven Kingdoms while his daughter became Queen.

Jon shook himself out of it, feeling nauseous about the revelation and focused on the book to get past it.

[Distant Ancestry]: Choose two of the following
Ancestry of House: [Baratheon], [Martell], [Greyjoy], [Tyrell], [Lannister], and [Tully]

These... were the names of all the Great Houses of Westeros! The only ones missing were his... parents'... families. That's right. His parents were of Houses Stark and Targaryen meaning he was of them both. But how could he choose his own ancestry? It wasn't like this thing could go back in time, right? Unless... He looked at his healed thumb then towards the clasp which held the now blood red jewel.

'This thing recognized me for both Targaryen and Stark. Could it also tell of possible distant relations that might have happened in the last few centuries?' Jon thought. That would explain it. This was all too confusing for him. Maybe he should just put the book down for a minute. Jon tried to do just that but he found he couldn't. The book refused to be closed.

WARNING: You cannot exit the Character Creation Menu at this time. You must first complete your character before you can move on.

So, this thing would just keep him here if it didn't get its way? He tried to put the book down only to get the same warning again. With a sigh he continued on with picking the two houses he wanted. He immediately discarded Tully from the list since he didn't want to increase the problems that were already in the household by being related to Catelyn Tully Stark. Lord Stark had taken a big risk by claiming him as his bastard son, and Jon didn't want to add on to his burden any more than he already did.

House Greyjoy was out too. Call it pride or pettiness, but Jon had no desire whatsoever to be related to Theon Greyjoy or have any Reaver blood in him.

House Lannister... that was somewhat tougher. On one hand, Jon could have a blood tie to another powerful family of Westeros. On the other hand it was the Lannisters! That wouldn't get him any friends not to mention it could suck him into some kind of danger with the current royal family. So they were out too.

House Baratheon... while Jon did have respect for Robert Baratheon on the count that his fa-Uncle was good friends with him, Jon did not want to be tied to them for the same reasons as with House Lannister, not to mention that it might put him in direct opposition to the Lannisters. He did not want to deal with royalty in any way.

So that left Houses Martell and Tyrell as his choices. Jon knew that House Martell had a blood tie with him through his father since they had married into the Targaryen's before. As for house Tyrell, Jon could not remember anything bad about them. The family held the Reach which supplied all of Westeros with food in grain, wine, fruit, and livestock. They had been the Wardens of the South, Lords Paramount of the Reach, living in their castle Highgarden.

Jon picked those as his two ancestor houses. The list disappeared and was replaced by more writing.

Distant Ancestry Selected: [House Martell] selected
Distant Ancestry Selected: [House Tyrell] selected
Are these correct? [Yes] or [No]

Jon pressed [Yes] before the page turned again with something different this time.

Family Traits: These are the traits from your ancestors which are now activated.

You have [1] trait from House Stark
You have [1] trait from House Targaryen
You have [1] trait from House Martell
You have [1] trait from House Tyrell

Ancestor Traits: [4] [Fixed]

Blood of the First Men: You get a +5 attribute point towards Strength, Perception, and Will as well as unlock the Skinchanging perk due to your First Men ancestry and their history with the Children of the Forest and their Greenseers.

Fire and Blood: You gain the Blood of the Dragon perk, as well as +15 to Will. But your Strength, Endurance and Intelligence are lowered by -5 due to the incestuous relationships which kept those traits strong.

Growing Strong: Your attributes start of at fifteen instead of twenty like an average person, but you gain a +5 to intelligence due to a heightened rate of learning and five extra attribute points every level up as well as an extra perk point every three levels.

Blood of the Rhoyne: The Martells of Dorne have always stood on their own unless they wished otherwise. Now so do you. You gain +5 to both Charisma and Luck. You also gain an affinity for Hydromancy due to the Rhoynar blood in your veins.

Jon wanted to groan in frustration. He barely understood any of it. Then there was the confirmation that the Children of the Forest were real and that Skinchangers existed. Old Nan had told him and Robb stories about them in their youth. They were monsters who could turn from men to animals at will. As for the abilities of the Targaryens, he understood them. Too bad the last dragons died a century ago!. There was also some kind of point system going on? Attributes? If he had to take a guess by their names, he'd think it was referring to how clever he was or how strong.

This time he flipped the page out of impatience to find a list of these attributes and an explanation.

Tutorial: These are your primary attributes. They are scored from 1 to 100 and each one affects your skills. They may only be increased through Attribute Points which are given to you when you level up five times.

Achievement Earned:
Live and Let Live: Through Infancy, Pestilence, and certain death wishes, you've survived to be seven and ten! Start off at level 6!
Accept?: [Yes] or [No]

Death wishes? Jon would have to guess that it might have been Robert Baratheon and his hate for that last one. Jon accepted before the beat of a marching drum sounded out making him look around in alarm. There was nothing else with him besides Ghost who had crawled out from under the bed and was looking up at him. He looked back down at the book to see it had changed again.

Jon Snow Level 1
Experience: 10,000/1,000
Level Up? [Yes] or [No]

Jon pressed yes and his level changed from 1 to 6. The page went back to the attributes and showed that he had 40 points when there were none before. He examined each attribute and their descriptions but he still could not fully understand them. He decided to simply follow the instructions and began considering what he should do with the points.

Strength: Strength increases damage inflicted on your enemies, the power of your critical hits, and physical resistance to hits, in addition to how well you can block.
Perception: Your ability to see, hear, taste and notice unusual things. With a high enough Perception, you will notice things far more easily than others.
Endurance: This refers to how much damage you can take. Whether it be a physical weapon or a poison, or something else. Endurance increases your health. Health points are also influenced by the armor you wear. Endurance improves health recovery during combat and affects the stamina cost of physical abilities.
Charisma: How charming you are. Charisma increases the disposition of all others around you, which makes Speech checks easier and provides a bonus to Approval.
Intelligence: Knowledge, wisdom and the ability to think quickly, Intelligence improves your chances of negotiating for lower prices, increases stamina and mana recovery during combat, and increases the number of skill points gained at each level.
Agility: Coordination and the ability to move well whether it is on your feet or how good you are with your hands. In combat, Agility increases the speed and accuracy of your attacks, and gives you a chance to deflect attacks. A deflection reduces suffered damage by two-thirds or allows you to dodge the attack entirely.
Will: Your overall stamina and mana. How long you can keep doing something before you tire yourself out. Willpower represents a character's determination and mental fortitude. With high willpower, you can have more stamina and mana for combat abilities and spells.
Luck: Your luck and role in the Known World. The higher it is the more you can shape your destiny and the destiny of those around you. As side from that Luck increases your chances of finding extra loot and getting critical hits. After a successful deflection, luck also affects the likelihood of a dodge, which negates all damage.

Strength: 15
Perception: 20
Endurance: 10
Charisma: 20
Intelligence: 15
Agility: 15
Will: 35
Luck: 20

If he was going by what it had said earlier, with 20 being the average level, then he was very behind on that scale. His Will was the highest for some reason. With his Luck skill being at the average level, he jokingly thought he might have a minor role in the world with it if it was his natural score, but he instead focused on his Endurance. It was half of an average person, but he had done very well in his sparring throughout his life, easily able to withstand Robb and Theon. Then he remembered the other spars with more experienced men-at-arms and recounted the number of times his arse was handed to him. Was that all luck or something when he was against his brother? His eyes glanced back at Luck before shaking his head.

He distributed 10 points to Endurance, and distributed 10 to his Agility bringing them both up to 20 and 25 respectively. While he had to make sure no one noticed any decrease in his fighting ability he also had to make sure he didn't suddenly have a dramatic increase in it, so he placed 10 points into Luck and Strength as well. He pondered where to place the remaining 5 points before settling for Intelligence. At least now all of them were back to an average score.

Strength: [25]
Perception: 20
Endurance: [20]
Charisma: 20
Intelligence: [20]
Agility: [25]
Will: 35
Luck: [30]

Nodding to himself, and confident that whatever change that happened later wouldn't be obvious, he flipped the next page to find out it was labeled skills.

Tutorial: These are your core skills. Like your attributes, these also number on a scale of 1 to 100, with 10 being the base start. Skills may be increased in a variety of ways. The primary way is through Skill Points which are given in a certain amount at every level up. Skills may also be given bonus points at the completion of certain quests that pertain to them or when being trained by a competent teacher.

Lockpick: 17
Sneak: 17
Unarmed: 17
Riding: 17
Marksmanship: 17
Melee: 18
Survival: 15
Speech: 15
Armor: 16
Alchemy: 15
Tactics: 15
Politics: 15
Magic: 19

Seriously?! His skills were this low?! He had thought after 13 or so years of training his Melee and Armor skills would be much higher than they were at the least! So why were they so low?

Tutorial: Beginning skill levels are based on beginning attribute numbers. An example would be your unarmed skill being affected by how high/low your Endurance, Strength, and Luck scores are. Each skill is affected by different attributes and different combinations of said attributes.

Well that helped a little. It explained why his more combat skills were so much higher that the rest. He looked at the amount of skills points he had.

Skill Points [60]

Doing the math in his head, he realized that by going up by 5 levels, he had a total of 12 skill points per level. He wondered why it was that way for every level, but decided to figure it out after he had finished this. He was trying to decide how much he should put in to make sure that it didn't look like he had lost a step, but also not just magically master something over night. If only there was a way to rate them. Another section of writing appeared on the page.

Tutorial: Here is the rating scale for skills.

Tier 1: Novice [10 to 24]
Tier 2: Apprentice [25 to 49]
Tier 3: Adept [50 to 74]
Tier 4: Expert [75 to 89]
Tier 5: Master [90 to 100]

Oh, that was convenient! So by the rating he had currently with all them he would be considered a novice. He and Robb both had started training when they were 5 years old. Even though they were certainly not masters or even experts, they could certainly be adept in their melee fighting or close to it. Jon added 20 points toward melee fighting. That meant he was left with 40 points. Jon added 10 each to riding and unarmed. With 20 left he looked at his skills more carefully. For some reason he was getting excited by this and he did not know why. Seeing nothing else that he really liked, Jon gave 5 points to marksmanship, tactics, alchemy, and sneak. That last one mainly due to how much he preferred not being seen.

Lockpick: 17
Sneak: [22]
Unarmed: [27]
Riding: [27]
Marksmanship: [22]
Melee: [38]
Survival: 15
Speech: 15
Armor: 16
Alchemy: [20]
Tactics: [20]
Politics: 15
Magic: 19

Just when he thought he was in the clear, the page turned of its own volition and once again showed a new list. But these were not skills or attributes. These were things called perks.

Tutorial: Perks are special bonuses or abilities that will come handy. They may also unlock special rewards or quests you wouldn't have gotten before. A perk can only be purchased with perk points which are gained every level up. Perks can range from abilities to how people view you as a person, with varying ranks to boot. Some perks however require certain conditions to be be met. Please pick them carefully.

If that wasn't ominous, Jon didn't know what was.

You have [11] perk points to spend.

Current Perks:

Skinchanger
Blood of the Dragon
Hydromancy

Available Perks:

Stealth: Become 40% harder to detect when sneaking.
Requirements: (15) Sneak and (25) Agility

Basic Riding: Chances of falling of your horse while riding are zero while chances of being knocked off is reduced by 5%
Requirements: (15) Riding

Short Bows: Become proficient with Short Bows and Composite Bows
Requirements: (6) Marksmanship

Miscellaneous Weaponry: Become proficient with a wide range of unlikely weapons in the form of daggers, nets, and peasant tools.
Requirements:(4) Melee

Axe-Handling: From simple hatchets to the long-axes of battlefields, learn all of the axes of the known world and become proficient with them.
Requirements: (8) Melee

Sword-fighting: From the shortswords to the greatswords, instantly learn all of the swords of the known world and become proficient with them.
Requirements: (12) Melee

Hammers of War: Instantly learn all of the clubs, maces and hammers in Westeros and become proficient with them.
Requirements: (16) Melee

Polearms: Sometimes you want to hit someone but you don't want them to hit you even if they can see you. These people might be strong and/or wearing tough armor. A spear, halberd or a poleaxe can easily take care of both. Become proficient with all sorts of polearms from a wooden pole to a lance.
Requirements: (24) Melee

Hunting: Farming is good and all, but nothing beats a meal that you caught yourself! The game of the forests are yours for the taking!
Requirements: (15) Survival

Tracking: Track your prey like any predator by scent, footprints, or environmental hints.
Requirements: (15) Survival and (20) Perception

Persuade and Lie: Gain the ability to persuade and lie in one package. Success depends on both Charisma and Speech.
Requirements: (8) Speech and (20) Charisma

Light Armor: Light armor now can be worn much more easily and breaks down 50% less. Also learn what materials are used to make it.
Requirements: (15) Armor

Herblore: Identify the differences between an herb, a poison, and a common plant. You can now pick out the proper materials for the right recipes!
Requirements: (15) Alchemy

Combat Training: You have basic combat training which prepares you enough to take on low level enemies. Your attacks do a little more damage and you can take a little more damage too. For every twenty-five levels this perk will automatically unlock new bonuses towards attack, defense, and energy regeneration. Currently health gains a permanent +5, Attacks gain a +5 damage.
Requirements: (15) Tactics

Wolf's Blood: You gain a resistance to ice and frost. The cold climates of the North no longer impede you.
Requirements: Stark Lineage, Live in the North for over 10 years.

Jon's eyebrows raised at the amount of choices he had. It was a good thing that he had 11, but he had... counting from top to bottom, 18 perks in total. Jon carefully considered his options before picking the Wolf's Blood perk. It was too good to pass up. Combat Training was next. Then Sword-fighting, he didn't need people to see him act like a complete novice with a blade.

He ignored Stealth since it wasn't that prudent. Instead, he grabbed Basic Riding. A guarantee against falling from his horse while riding was a nice safety net to have. And speaking of nets... he took the Miscellaneous Weaponry perk. If he ever found himself without a proper weapon, it was nice that he could use anything else for a temporary substitute. Then he came to the Marksmanship perk. While Short Bows were in no short supply, they were bad at range and accuracy. All arrows were made relatively to the same length. That makes it somewhat difficult to get an accurate shot with a short bow. A composite bow was roughly the same, but a bit longer. It achieved better range as well as accuracy. Jon would have preferred that it would be a longbow instead, but a composite bow could nearly match it and was much easier to carry. So Jon went picked Short Bows.

Jon passed on the other weapon perks since he did not really use them nor had any practice with them. He picked both Hunting and Tracking. For those reasons if nothing else was due to the fact that he and Robb always competed when they hunted, and while Jon usually managed to catch something, Robb normally found a bigger or better catch to impress his father. With those two perks he might match his brother next time. He used his remaining three points on Persuade and Lie, Light Armor, and Herblore.

It kind of made him feel dishonest by picking the Persuade and Lie perk, but he figured that he might need it. With the last perks picked Jon flipped the page to look at its contents in surprise.

Character Creation nearing completion. Please look over to see if anything is out of order.

Underneath those words were all of his attributes, skills, and perks he had picked out.

Jon Snow

Title: Bastard of Winterfell
Level: 6
Attributes:
Strength: 25
Perception: 20
Endurance: 20
Charisma: 20
Intelligence: 20
Agility: 25
Will: 35
Luck: 30

Skills:
Lockpick: 17
Sneak: 22
Unarmed: 27
Riding: 27
Marksmanship: 22
Melee: 38
Survival: 15
Speech: 15
Armor: 16
Alchemy: 20
Tactics: 20
Politics: 15
Magic: 19

Perks:
Skinchanger
Blood of the Dragon
Hydromancy
Basic Riding
Short Bows
Miscellaneous Weaponry
Sword-fighting
Tracking
Hunting
Persuade and Lie
Light Armor
Herblore
Combat Training
Wolf's Blood

It wasn't the list that surprised Jon. It was the fact that it had the most realistic, black and white illustration of himself right next to it. It was exactly as he had seen himself in a mirror that morning. Black curly hair, a stoic look on his face, his short beard and moustache that was growing in. Right down to the last detail. He changed nothing about it as he flipped to the next page. There was nothing else about himself, but only a few words.

Congratulations! You've just completed the character creation of... the Gamer's Grimoire!

'So that's what G.G meant.' Jon thought remembering the initials stamped into the book's cover. This was so surreal. A magical artifact had somehow ended up in his possession and seemed to know him better than he knew himself. Jon closed the book gently, with a newfound respect for it. It had told of his mother, of the truth. Now what to do from here? He looked at the book's cover to finally see the illustration stamped into it.

It was the picture of a tree. On one side it was filled with leaves while on the other side, it lacked any sort of leaves. It was surrounded by crashing waves of water while a lightning storm brewed above it. At the top two corners, just over the storm clouds, were illustrations of the sun and a crescent moon on each side. Then suddenly a screen from the book popped up in front of him.

Attributes, Skills, and Perks will take effect once Full Synchronization is achieved. Full Synchronization can only be achieved when you are asleep. Forced sleep is initiating in 3...

Wait what?

...2...

It couldn't be serious! How could it do that?!

1!

Jon's momentary panic left when he started feeling tired. More so than any time he had ever felt before. Magic! With what little resistance he could scrounge up, he fought it off before eventually giving in and lay his head down. Once his head hit the pillow he was asleep. Ghost who had been watching silently jumped onto the bed and lay beside his master intent on watching over him and the book in his hand. Said book merely held a lightly glowing red jewel in which drew Ghost's sight until the pup too fell asleep.

Made some small changes here and there. Nothing major yet.