Ilga glanced at her husband as he stabbed the pinkish white meat on his plate and brought it to his mouth. Aside from his furious chewing there wasn't much sound in the dining hall of kingshouse castle.

For good reason too, her lord husband Varamyr Magnar was troubled and in a foul mood as of late. Any servants or guards who so much as stepped out of line was harshly punished by being whipped but the lord himself. He would vent his pent-up frustrations upon them as he couldn't do much to those who caused his restlessness and spoiled mood.

The Fire men invaders were like a splint in the ass, one too deep to dig out. That was what her husband said about them anyway.

She brought a piece of meat to her mouth, chewing on the pinkish-white flesh. She could taste the strong heady flavor of hog but also the taste of chicken brought from the across the seas.

The beast which the meat came from was like none she'd ever seen, having a boar's head and the body of a fowl. They were first brought to the castle by traders and look the land by storm. Though they looked strange, they were remarkable, having both the traits of a hog and chicken. They laid frequent eggs which could be eaten or left to develop. Unlike the fowl from across the seas, they didn't take ages to mature and the meat was fatty and softer than the gamey regular fowl. The boar headed fowls could eat anything, from usual food wastes to human excrement easily.

As a consequence, meat and eggs were quickly becoming more popular even for the commonfolk.

Aside from the animals, the fire men brought gifts and trinkets they never seen, even the passing eastern ships or smugglers couldn't compare when it came to novelty.

"Wantin' ta stay in my home! My home!" Varamyr slammed his fist down on the table, spilling the clear strong drink the fire men also gifted them.

"Informers the lot o' them!" Her husband hissed, though she felt he was more agonized over the spilled drink. Apparently, it was a sweet wine-far better than the black beer stout or sour wines brought from across the seas. This caused lord magnar- who was already fond of wines and stouts to often sink deep within his cups. Especially after he would gorge himself on the strong smelling, clear wine which different from the sweet one. This particular wine was more a magical potion than beverage as the it was said to burn like fire and warm the body to the point where the face is reddened without truly burning the one who drank it.

Varamyr's current gripe with the foreigners began days ago as a delegation of them arrived at kingshouse wishing to stay within the castle walls long term as opposed to just coming to trade or converse. Lord magnar wouldn't allow it; fearing the fire men were sent to eye their defenses and funnel their findings back to their base.

Ilga didn't see them being informants, they could already learn everything they could from trading with the other stone born. She was certain he knew this as well. He was possibly more wary of the growing influence of the foreigners. As the moons passed, the fear and caution of the invaders which was tenderly cultivated within the hearts of the populus by Varamyr and his elders was quickly being lessened as word spread of their deeds and trade.

She sipped her drink, savouring the thickness and creaminess of the milk. It was another product from the fire men. Gods only knew what animal they possessed but whatever it the beast was- it made better milk than any goat or unicorn. Ilga, who had her babe not so long ago needed milk and meat as it was best for a recovering woman.

While the fire men were an issue and a threat to the island. She hoped they didn't go to war just yet. This winter was a long one and it wouldn't break for years afterwards. The trade brought in by the invaders was vital as winter dragged on. Though it could be this trade which brought her husband such woe and frustration. Even now, the food they all ate mostly came from the smokey shore- the fire men's base. Their table was covered in seafood, cheese and wines which came directly from the invaders...

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

(-)

Later that day, Varamyr paced inside his solar like a skittering lobster caught in a trap.

The sailors from afar didn't come to trade like he hoped. Instead, he was forced to trade with the fire men. With every cursed thing of theirs which entered his castle, Varamyr could see their influence growing. They were slowly poaching his chieftains and commonfolk with luxuries and sweet words.

Mere moons ago, when the Stane delegates came to answer his summons, he thought they would send someone of importance. Instead, he was forced to great sons and grandsons of western chieftains. Weeks after sending them away and commanding them to make 'lord' Igor know he was requested at kingshouse, Varamyr heard of the Stanes being sighted inside the fort of the fire men for some time.

He couldn't believe it.

'Those traitors!' They sneaked behind his back and use decoys to treat with the witches.

'What foulness are they cooking up together? Did they swear fealty? Did they plan to intermarry?' He agonized over the possible alliances between house Stane and the invaders.

That was to be expected of them. They were always the most rebellious of the houses under his rule. Unlike the Crowls who ruled further inland along the mountain range, the Stanes ruled near the coast and had a working port, fishermen and trade with the nights watch. His couldn't rule over them the same way as he did with the Crowls by clamping the Claw Mountain pass.

He wasn't the only lord magnar to struggle with the stanes. For generations.... even when his ancestors wore crown atop their heads, the stanes rebelled and saw themselves as greater. The buggers were able to stand against his family's designs to reign supreme over the island through the trade across the sea and the claw mountain pass.

He really wished to do something about the fire men, ward them away, drive them off his island, take their weapons and learn the secrets to make metal for themselves. He could do none of those, not yet, not while the winter raged. Though he loathed to admit it, they needed to fire men at the moment. He remembered when he thought the fire men were less a threat than the wights after knowing they were men of flesh and blood.

But nay... He had a feeling they were far greater than the pale walkers and their undead. Something must be done! He would not allow them to plant themselves inside his castle!

'I'll send my own informants.' He mused.

The fire men were famous for exchanging work for goods. The fire men had the proud Stoneborn digging up the earth and carrying logs. He would send his own men in. They would work for the fire men and bring the secrets of their techniques. Then they'd bring them back to kingshouse and into his hands.

(-)

Commander Urrigon Greatpyke's eyes surveyed the objects laid out atop the cleared table before him. Particularly, three bottles of liquid. Of the three bottles, there were two clear ones and another which looked similar to Dornish red but with purple undertones. Though the contents of the bottles were astonishing in taste and flavour, it was the bottles themselves which drew in his wonder.

They were made of the clearest glass he'd ever seen in his sixty-seven years of life. He silently grasped the neck of one of these bottles and held it close to his eyes. Urrigon noted the strange and alien markings on the surface of the container. The foreignness of their origin aside, he was left baffled at how the gifted glassworkers were able to shape glass into these symbols.

"By the Gods old and new!" He looked up at the exclaiming maester Dannis who lifted a bottle up to the light to get a better view.

"So clear! I'd never thought it possible for glass to be this clear!" The maester waved his hand behind the bottle and cooed in wonder. Urrigon was a stoic man, bit if he wasn't just as shocked and marveled at the clear sight of the man's hand, he would've chuckled at the reactions of the enraptured maester.

He placed the bottle back in its previous place with great care- it wouldn't do to break such a work of art. His eyes passed over the other objects brought back from the terrible Isle of Skagos. There were bronze braziers, rings, and other trinkets and a wooden box with what appeared to be eggs inside it.

He reached into it and removed a particularly large, pink egg with mud brown patches covering it. It looked like a chicken egg, though the unusual weight and colouring contested his assumptions. He reached for another- this one a black egg with white patches.

"These are the eggs of the strange creature with the Pig's head and chicken's body?" He finally asked Captain Fisher who'd been standing silently near the table.

"Aye commander, ain't never seen nothin' like it."

"And these Fire men, where'd they claim they're from? Why are they living amongst the Skagosi?" He returned the eggs to the crate and turned to face the captain.

"They claimed their ships were damaged during a voyage and stumbled upon the island."

"Did they tell you where they were from?" He asked with hopes of piecing the mystery of these new peoples on Skagos together.

The man's face morphed into one of confusion with a hint of frustration. "The Skagosi who spoke in their places claimed they're from the 'Burning Isles'... well that was the closest way they could interpret it."

'Burning Isles...' Urrigon ran his hand through his beard in thought.

He didn't even waste his time trying to thick about where this place may be. It was obviously a lie. He though about how his men described these people: narrow eyes, flat faces and pale skin. These people appeared to be sailors from Yiti or Leng, the markings on the bottles gave them away as well. Not to mention the chicken eggs. Not many people knew, but the chickens of today originated in the forests of Yiti. They were introduced to the west by the famed Sea Snake after his great eastern voyage to the distant land.

Though there was a problem. The yitish weren't known for their Stone ships, masterful Glassworks or wearing red garbs. They were known for their fine silks and fragrant Tea. The yistish have little interest in the west and only a few would ever travel this far west.

'Who are you people...' He resolved to sending a missive to Castle Black about this development.