reincarnated in GOT with a down graded Cheat engine.

It was nearly midday when the rider came.

Levi had been inspecting the roadwork near the southern edge of Bogwater, boots sunk slightly in damp earth, when the shout came from one of the children on watch. By the time he turned, a tall man in a dark green cloak reed-stitched and damp with marsh water was already trotting past the half-raised gates. Behind him rode four more, each bearing the badge of House Reed: the black lizard-lion on a gray-green field.

The lead rider dismounted slowly. He was neither armored nor aged, but something in the way he carried himself made it clear he wasn't here to play courier.

"You're Levi?" the rider asked without preamble.

"I am," Levi said, straightening.

"I bring terms from House Reed. For your new… efforts."

Levi nodded, but said nothing at first. He gestured toward the center of the village. "Would you be alright if someone else joins this conversation?"

The rider considered, then gave a single nod. "So long as it's no smith or child."

Levi turned, already moving. "Come. I'll bring you to the maester."

They sat inside the old maester's hut. It smelled of herbs, old parchment, and the faint bitterness of smoke. The maester sat hunched in his usual chair, hands folded in his lap. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes darted to Levi more than once.

The rider removed his gloves, then his cloak, folding it with care before placing it aside. Then he reached into his satchel and retrieved a folded piece of parchment. He did not open it.

"The North watches," the rider began. "And the Neck watches more closely still. Bogwater was once swamp and stilt. Now it stands with stone and fire."

He placed the parchment on the table.

"By stone and sweat, you've laid claim to the norths soil. Such work honors us… but no man builds freely on another lord's land, even if none sits it presently."

Levi remained silent. The rider continued.

"You've not sworn to House Reed. You've not knelt. And that is fine… for now. But you've accepted the weight of their gaze. So now, their terms."

He held up a finger.

"First. A yearly tax in silver. A fair tithe, modest in measure, to be sent to Greywater Watch—or whichever House they appoint for collection."

"Second. You've raised walls and towers. That draws more than praise. It draws questions. House Reed will place a bailiff in this village. One of their choosing. He will not command, but he will observe. You build to keep raiders out, yes but such walls can also keep messengers out. A lord needs to know what kind of steel you intend to swing."

The maester's fingers tapped lightly on the table, but he said nothing.

"Third," the rider added, "for now, there will be no tariffs on trade. You may move goods freely. That privilege may change. For now, it stands."

He leaned forward.

"These are not requests. They are allowances. The Neck gives you space to grow but do not mistake that for ownership."

Levi finally spoke. "What happens if I refuse?"

The rider shrugged. "Then you'll find few friends, and fewer open roads. But if you agree…"

Levi nodded slowly. "I understand."

The rider stood, took his parchment, and handed it to the maester, who accepted it without unfolding it.

"I'll remain in Bogwater for three nights. You have that long to send your reply. My name is Cregan. Ask for me when you've made your mind."

He turned and left the hut.

Levi stood in silence for a while. The maester finally looked up.

"They'll tighten the leash slowly. But it's still a leash."

Levi didn't answer. His eyes remained on the door, where the reed-stamped cloak had passed only moments before.