Go find Varys and shake that man's hand...then ask him what his endgame is. He wouldn't give me a straight answer, but it's a question that needs asking!
No but seriously
Assuming you mean that it is literally me, myself who is waking up there then I would be useless with a sword. I'd probably die very quickly if I didn't have any money. Say I had 20 silvers and 10 gold dragons. I'd give them 10 silvers to stay at the inn for a while, as I wouldn't know what else to do. Then that night a small band of outlaws and broken men raid the inn. Most of the people at the inn die pretty quickly, but a few have taken up arms and fight them off. All this time I'm hiding in the closet in my room whimpering. The only survivor is a particularly skilled sellsword. He is travelling along the Red Fork and the Trident to Maidenpool, and seems as slimy as a sell sword can be, but simple, and poor. I offer him two gold dragons to get me to Maidenpool. He willingly accepts (after biting the coins first), and we ride for a fortnight, mercifully spared the wrath of outlaws. At Maidenpool I say farewell to this unpleasant man and find a ship. One ship - the Maiden's Sweet Sweet Ass - is going to Braavos, and the friendly captain accepts three gold dragons for the passage. Before the transaction is completed however, horns sound, and a great uproar is heard. Then a flank of cavalry baring black banners emblazoned with a red dragon with three heads storm the town. A teenager with purple eyes and silver hair leads them. His swordsmen quickly overcome the swords of House Mooton, and the Targaryens take over the castle and Lord William Mooton surrenders and declares for King Aegon sixth of his name of the House Targaryen, king of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. The king leaves, and I go and work as a servant in Lord Mooton's castle. I keep warning people about the Others, but they all laugh. A few months later, word quickly travels that the wall has collapsed and that the Others are invading the North, and raising the dead as their servants. Soon darkness falls. An endless night. I have a brief and glib I told you so moment, and then realise what's actually happening and literally shit in my pants. Soon, the petty wars and grudges of the seven kingdoms fade away as everyone panics about the Long Night. The populations begin to migrate as far south as possible, and to the coasts. But the cold winds are savage, and people begin to freeze to death. I have the warmth of Lord Mooton's hearths but rumour spreads that Mooton is slowly culling his servants to prolong the winter food stores. I am trapped in a castle where I will eventually be killed, unable to escape because I will freeze outside. And the Others are approaching. I finally realise that I am trapped in GRRM's world, and I am under his cruel dominion now. Soon it is so cold Mooton's fires shrivel and die, and a sickening cold takes us all. And I remember Old Nan's story of the Long Night, and remember those lords freezing in their castles. And I shiver. And die. When I stand up again, my eyes blaze blue.
Or at least I hope that's what would happen to me if I ended up in the Winds of Winter by George RR Martin. Because I want the Others to happen now. I can't wait any longer! XD