To the north, there was an eldritch ice elemental necromancer with far too many inferi, or wights as they were called here. To the south, there were the Boltons and the Lannisters who would see him killed just on principle. His sweet and kind sister had been repeatedly abused, beaten, and raped. Her body was a gruesome map of scars and wounds. The only thing that kept her going was the thought of her family – him. And when that last family was gone, she simply decided to join him on his funeral pyre. Just thinking about it made his blood boil.