"People suffer all the way from here to Asshai by the Shadow to the Sunset Sea," Jon Stark sighed, and the Lord of Bronzegate couldn't help but feel uneasy under the scrutiny of the piercing purple eyes. "Many would love my help and would pay dearly to earn it. I've had requests for aid from Dorne to Tolos. Yet if I were to answer only a third of them, I would spend my whole life with a sword at hand, flying from one battlefield to another and dealing with lickspittle and backstabbers who dare not face me on the field. You come here out of pride! Too proud to kneel to Strickland, who could defeat the pirates and slavers with the Stormlands united at his back. Mayhaps he's an Essosi sellsword, but House Strickland was a noble House from around the Kingswood before its exile. So far, he's been a better king than Joffrey the Illborn, to whom you were sworn before. Nay, as Tommen said, the realm is shattered, and only the broken kingdoms remain. I will not meddle in the South, and this is final. You're welcome to stay at Winterfell for as much as you wish, but expect no aid from the North."