Julie
Hardhome was a small town with a busy port. The harbour was full on this rare occasion, though that meant good income for the Free … moreFolk. Carley sat in a tavern with three Thenn’s and one Hornfoot. Julie was from the Ice River Clans, and saw and done things that most Free Folk had never dreamed of. This was why Maror the Mangler had invited her to join The Manglers: A raiding group with a horrific reputation. Maror was the leader of these barbaric men. Though he was a Hornfoot, he had gained a great amount of respect amongst his Thenn followers. Maror had earned his nickname ‘The Mangler’ from cutting the limbs off of his enemies and taking them as trophies. That was the kind of sadistic taste that Julie liked. One of the Thenn’s finished his mead and burped, there was no honour for their magnar here.
“So why are we here, Maror?” Skagard asked, padding his beard from the mead that had leaked into it.
“I told you lot I would take… [view original content]
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian Morland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected company. In front of him stood the young, simple-minded recruit: Bendor Went. Bendor also had a horrible history, where his family had been killed in a storm during the Winter.
“Bendor? What are you doing here at this time in the evening?” Bendor smiled, happy to see he had surprised his mentor. Ian sheathed his sword.
“I was talking to the king, about applying for the kingsguard…” Ian’s mood brightened up, he had been training Bendor for this moment.
“And?” Bendor let out a long sigh.
“Well, he said he would consider it.” Ian frowned, a little disappointed with the answer.
“Oh well, I guess there is always the infantry.” Bendor shook his head.
“No, I will continue to fight for this. It is the only thing I want, to protect the king. Talking of the king, he wishes to see you.” Ian raised an eyebrow. Me? Why would he want to see me? Bendor smiled, obviously reading Ian’s expression.
“I don’t know what he wants, but he wishes to see you urgently.” Ian stood still for a moment, then nodded.
“I’ll head there after I’ve cleaned all this up, give me a hand?” Bendor had already picked up the sword Ian dropped and started at it. Ian chuckled, Bendor was always one to put action before words.
-
Ian walked through the halls of the Great Keep on his way to the Great Hall. Still very curious to why King Benjen had summoned him. The Keep was warm, though there were no hearths. Ian thought back to the stories of Winterfell and Bran the Builder. It was supposed that Bran had built his Keep over the hot springs to keep it warm, Ian was more than certain this was true. Ian left the Keep and entered the Great Hall, the seat of the King in the North. The night was getting late, the skies were already dark. The Great Hall was mostly empty, the eight long rows of trestle tables were empty. Only a few sat around the nobility table, risen on a platform to overlook the other tables. Ian approached the platform and knelt before his King, who sat in his seat.
“Your grace, you summoned me?” Those at the table looked up to see a man covered in grime and dirt from the courtyards, the King was happy to see him nonetheless.
“Ian Morland! Please, take a seat.” The King smiled and beckoned for Ian to sit on the far end of the table, opposite to the King himself.
“Ian Morland is our master-at-arms here at Winterfell. Ian, may I please introduce you to Norrhen Cassel and Donovan Umber, Lord of the Last Hearth. And you of course know my son, Brandon.” Ian nodded to the three nobles as he sat down.
“It is a pleasure to meet you all, for those I have not met.” The table roared with laughter, mainly from the thundering Umber. The King spoke up.
“Lord Donovan, I am curious. How does your younger brother fare on the Wall?” Donovan grinned.
“Odin is a Ranger, currently fighting for the position of First Ranger. You know how it all works Benjen.” The two men laughed, Ian sat quietly. Brandon stared at him, and then spoke up.
“Father, perhaps you would tell Master Morland why you have summoned him.” The King broke away from his laughter and looked confused, he then spotted Ian and chuckled to himself.
“Oh my, I apologise Ian. I am getting quite forgetful as I begin to grow old.” Ian smiled, then tried to reassure the King he was not offended.
“It is no matter, your grace. To be in your presence is all a man could ever wish for.” The King laughed loudly, joined by Donovan.
“You flatter me, Morland. Now, down to certain matters at hand. I received a raven from my daughter at the Dreadfort.” Ian raised his eyebrows.
“Your grace, what is a Stark doing in enemy lands?” Ian was unsure of what made the laughter cause this time, the shock in his voice or the plain lack of information he had.
“No no, Ian. I married my daughter to Lord Bolton years ago to settle an alliance. Recently my daughter has sent a raven saying that Lord Bolton is unpleased with his position, like many others in the realm. He has gathered the Locke’s, Hornwood’s, Frost’s and Greystark’s to support him in his goal to become the Red King. We cannot let this happen, but the main priority is to get my daughter back to safety behind these walls. That is what Norrhen is here for.” Norrhen nodded to Ian.
“I see your grace, but what do you want me to do about it? I am only the master-at-arms…” Benjen chuckled to himself once again.
“Ian, your talent as a swordsman and leader is not to be wasted as a simple master-at-arms. Since you came to us and told us what happened to your family and lands, with that bastard brother of yours, I was truly hurt. Now I see potential for you, become a General in my army. Lead my soldiers to battle against the Bolton’s and their allies.” Ian froze stiff, an opportunity like this had never presented itself to him before.
“Your grace, I am… Honoured. Are you sure about this?” Norrhen answered this time.
“I’ve seen you fight in the yard. I’ve seen the way you teach men how to fight, the strategy you put into it. We need that out on the field, not locked away in these walls. You are the man for this role.” Benjen’s face then went serious.
“This is an important role, and I would not hand this out lightly. If you accept this task, you will be honoured and glorified till the end of your days with the battles you will fight in. Do you accept, Ian Morland?” Ian’s palms began to get sweaty, his face started to blush. He pushed it all away to give a strong and certain reply.
“I will, your grace.” Benjen’s stern face went into a cheery smile. Donovan raised his cup, half pissed drunk.
“To Ian Morgan- wait no, Morle- ah bugger it. To the new General of the Stark army!” The men at the table raised their cups and downed their drinks. Ian stood and bowed, he had not felt this happy since he had met his wife and fathered his son. The memories began to flood back, and his old self came back with it. Sadness took over his body, he now needed to leave before he embarrassed himself.
“If that will be all, your grace. I have to finish my duties in the armory.” The King nodded.
“Bound to your duties until the end! That’s the kind of leadership we need! Before you go, please inform that young man, Bendor is it? He will now be a part of the kingsguard. I understand you are like a father to him, so you may tell him or I can. That will be all.” The sadness evaporated in the new heat of joy that filled Ian’s heart. Ian turned and bowed, quickly rushing out of the Great Hall. Ian felt he could not wait to tell Bendor, though the thought of being told by the King himself may be considered more honourable.
Julie
Hardhome was a small town with a busy port. The harbour was full on this rare occasion, though that meant good income for the Free … moreFolk. Carley sat in a tavern with three Thenn’s and one Hornfoot. Julie was from the Ice River Clans, and saw and done things that most Free Folk had never dreamed of. This was why Maror the Mangler had invited her to join The Manglers: A raiding group with a horrific reputation. Maror was the leader of these barbaric men. Though he was a Hornfoot, he had gained a great amount of respect amongst his Thenn followers. Maror had earned his nickname ‘The Mangler’ from cutting the limbs off of his enemies and taking them as trophies. That was the kind of sadistic taste that Julie liked. One of the Thenn’s finished his mead and burped, there was no honour for their magnar here.
“So why are we here, Maror?” Skagard asked, padding his beard from the mead that had leaked into it.
“I told you lot I would take… [view original content]
Julie
Hardhome was a small town with a busy port. The harbour was full on this rare occasion, though that meant good income for the Free … moreFolk. Carley sat in a tavern with three Thenn’s and one Hornfoot. Julie was from the Ice River Clans, and saw and done things that most Free Folk had never dreamed of. This was why Maror the Mangler had invited her to join The Manglers: A raiding group with a horrific reputation. Maror was the leader of these barbaric men. Though he was a Hornfoot, he had gained a great amount of respect amongst his Thenn followers. Maror had earned his nickname ‘The Mangler’ from cutting the limbs off of his enemies and taking them as trophies. That was the kind of sadistic taste that Julie liked. One of the Thenn’s finished his mead and burped, there was no honour for their magnar here.
“So why are we here, Maror?” Skagard asked, padding his beard from the mead that had leaked into it.
“I told you lot I would take… [view original content]
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian … moreMorland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected c… [view original content]
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian … moreMorland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected c… [view original content]
Julie
Hardhome was a small town with a busy port. The harbour was full on this rare occasion, though that meant good income for the Free … moreFolk. Carley sat in a tavern with three Thenn’s and one Hornfoot. Julie was from the Ice River Clans, and saw and done things that most Free Folk had never dreamed of. This was why Maror the Mangler had invited her to join The Manglers: A raiding group with a horrific reputation. Maror was the leader of these barbaric men. Though he was a Hornfoot, he had gained a great amount of respect amongst his Thenn followers. Maror had earned his nickname ‘The Mangler’ from cutting the limbs off of his enemies and taking them as trophies. That was the kind of sadistic taste that Julie liked. One of the Thenn’s finished his mead and burped, there was no honour for their magnar here.
“So why are we here, Maror?” Skagard asked, padding his beard from the mead that had leaked into it.
“I told you lot I would take… [view original content]
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian … moreMorland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected c… [view original content]
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian … moreMorland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected c… [view original content]
Julie
Hardhome was a small town with a busy port. The harbour was full on this rare occasion, though that meant good income for the Free … moreFolk. Carley sat in a tavern with three Thenn’s and one Hornfoot. Julie was from the Ice River Clans, and saw and done things that most Free Folk had never dreamed of. This was why Maror the Mangler had invited her to join The Manglers: A raiding group with a horrific reputation. Maror was the leader of these barbaric men. Though he was a Hornfoot, he had gained a great amount of respect amongst his Thenn followers. Maror had earned his nickname ‘The Mangler’ from cutting the limbs off of his enemies and taking them as trophies. That was the kind of sadistic taste that Julie liked. One of the Thenn’s finished his mead and burped, there was no honour for their magnar here.
“So why are we here, Maror?” Skagard asked, padding his beard from the mead that had leaked into it.
“I told you lot I would take… [view original content]
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian … moreMorland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected c… [view original content]
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian … moreMorland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected c… [view original content]
Julie
Hardhome was a small town with a busy port. The harbour was full on this rare occasion, though that meant good income for the Free … moreFolk. Carley sat in a tavern with three Thenn’s and one Hornfoot. Julie was from the Ice River Clans, and saw and done things that most Free Folk had never dreamed of. This was why Maror the Mangler had invited her to join The Manglers: A raiding group with a horrific reputation. Maror was the leader of these barbaric men. Though he was a Hornfoot, he had gained a great amount of respect amongst his Thenn followers. Maror had earned his nickname ‘The Mangler’ from cutting the limbs off of his enemies and taking them as trophies. That was the kind of sadistic taste that Julie liked. One of the Thenn’s finished his mead and burped, there was no honour for their magnar here.
“So why are we here, Maror?” Skagard asked, padding his beard from the mead that had leaked into it.
“I told you lot I would take… [view original content]
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian … moreMorland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected c… [view original content]
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and there would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shield, his own. A brown dire wolf on a dark green hill howling to a full moon. A pang of guilt shot through Tristifer like a dart. He shook it away and moved on. In front of him stood a tall man, staring at a shield with the sigil of House Umber.
“Morning Odin. Rest well?” The giant man turned to Tristifer, staring at him with his only good eye. The other was hidden behind an eyepatch.
“Barely, damn Nightmares still haunt my sleep. Ever since that night beyond the Wall…” Tristifer shook his head, disappointed.
“Odin, I keep saying to talk to the Maester, or the First Steward. There is nothing I can do to help you.” Odin quietly chuckled to himself.
“Aye, but stewards and maester’s don’t go beyond the wall like us rangers. The Lord Commander has chosen me to lead a search party for Niclas. I’m currently gathering men, and need some suggestions. We leave tomorrow.” Tristifer thought of the best rangers currently stationed at the Nightfort, there were not many.
“I’d say Ser Ulrich and Charles Black are your best choices. Kaiden, Brett and Harris are all young and naive, but it’s up to you. I need to find the Lord Commander now, is he in his quarters?” Odin nodded and Tristifer began to walk away. Odin grabbed his arm before leaving, wearing a concerned expression.
“Watch yourself, Tristifer. I’ve seen the way Rodrik looks at you, he notices that you have more respect from the men then he does.” Odin let go of Tristifer and shook his head.
“None of that matters now anyway, if you had seen what I’ve seen out there. I fear the worst for the First Ranger.” Tristifer rolled his eyes, then patted the man on the back.
“Go see the maester, then get some rest. You’re likely to have a long ride ahead of you tomorrow.” Odin grunted, but nodded.
“Stay safe, Oldstark.” Tristifer gave a faint smile and left the hall, leaving the old man to his thoughts.
-
The Lord Commander’s door was shut, meaning that it was currently being occupied. Tristifer sat on a bench for a good half an hour before growing suspicious of what was happening on the other side of the door. Tristifer got up and slowly approached the door, being as quiet as he could. He placed his ear against the wooden frame and listened for a sound, to which he heard two voices.
“Those wildlings need a banner to fall under, a certain King Beyond the Wall…” A hoarse and harsh voice said.
“Aye, but I still am curious of what my brother is trying to say in this letter.” The Lord Commander spoke quietly compared to the other in the room.
“Perhaps we should gather those faithful... Snowgate, Torches, Rimegate, Icemark… All believe in your leadership…” Tristifer grew too curious, and heard too little from his position. He straightened himself and gave three loud bangs on the door. The voices grew silent. After a moment, the Lord Commander replied.
“Enter.” Tristifer opened the door to see Hogar ‘Big Bird’ and Lord Commander Flint sitting at their table. Hogar stood up, still in his blacksmith apron.
“I will return to my forge, remember what I said.” Rodrik nodded and Hogar left, bumping into Tristifer as he did. Rodrik smiled and beckoned for Tristifer to sit.
“What can I do for you, Tristifer?” Tristifer could see through the fake smile, a wry old man was hidden beneath and hard to see with the inexperienced eye.
“I wish to speak to you about taking a week leave from the Wall. My father is… Dying, and I wish to see him before he passes.” Rodrik’s expression saddened, and he seemed truly hurt for a moment.
“That pains me to hear that, I will grant your wish.” Rodrik pulled a blank piece of paper and his ink and quill. As he wrote the pardon, Tristifer stared at a letter adjacent to him.
“Lord Commander, if you do not mind me asking. What was it you were talking about with Hogar?” Rodrik slowly put down his quill, his happy smile had faded with the cold wind that blew through the open door, making the loose papers fly everywhere.
“Bugger, could you give me a hand with these?” Tristifer nodded, walking to the door to shut it. He returned and helped pick up the unread letters, one bared the sigil of House Flint of Breakstone Hill. Rodrik quickly gazed at it, panic growing in his face.
“Give me that, official business in there. Nothing that a mere weapons trainer should bore himself with.” Rodrik snatched the letter and placed it in the draw of his desk. Once the two were finished cleaning up, Rodrik continued where he had left off with the pardon.
“My lord, you were saying…” Rodrik looked up, a little confused. He placed his signature at the bottom of the letter then waxed it closed.
“Oh, yes. Hogar and I talked of First Ranger Niclas. We are planning to give First Ranger to someone experienced until he is found. Castle Black is currently without a leader since Niclas and his squire went off on their small errand.” Tristifer nodded. But why talk to a blacksmith about it? Rodrik handed over the letter to Tristifer and smiled.
“Thank you Lord Commander, I will never forget this.” Rodrik laughed aloud.
“Nor should you, I am a great man. Give your father my regards... And wishes for a safe passage to the afterlife.” Tristifer shuddered at the thought, but nodded in thanks. Tristifer got up and walked to the door, though before leaving he was stopped by Rodrik.
“Watch yourself out there, I’ve received ravens from Sentinel Stand and Greywatch claiming that Wildlings are climbing over the Wall and raiding the farmers in our lands. We should have it under control soon, but just something to keep in mind.” Rodrik smiled inscrutably, Tristifer showed manners and smiled back, then left.
The snowfall had gotten heavier since the short discussion with the Lord Commander. Tristifer looked at the letter, then thought back to Odin’s words. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, he notices the men like you more than him. Tristifer fingered the seal of the letter, feeling unsure of whether it was actually a pardon from the Wall or not. Perhaps Tristifer was just overreacting, Odin was an old and wise man, though he was not always right.
[Break the seal, check the letter] [Leave the letter untouched]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Ah damn, I got unfollowed and missed the last two votings. Anyway, the options that eventually won would have been the ones I would have taken either way
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and t… morehere would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shiel… [view original content]
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s barracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he joined Brett on his journey to the Wall. Now the two had been caught with some girls at Mole’s Town, and were locked in the Bastard’s Barracks. The Bastard’s Barracks were for those brothers who were untrustworthy, mostly bastards or thieves. The light at the door had finally gone out. Good, that means the guard is gone. Brett and Kaiden silently rose from their beds and walked to the door. Kaiden grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. Locked.
“Well what did you expect?” Brett whispered, smiling at Kaiden. Kaiden rolled his eyes and moved out of they way. Brett crouched at the door and pulled out his tension wrench and pick and did his work with the lock. The bolt clicked as it unlocked, causing the door to swing open. Brett grinned and the two snuck out.
They both descended the icy stairs, watching for guards that may have still been on duty. The stables were just opposite the rookery, that was their destination. The two snuck past a wagon full of dead grass for the horses and bumped into a brother. The sleeping brother was supposedly on duty, though now was snuggled up to the warmth of a fire. Brett let out a breath of relief, Kaiden quickly shushed him.
“Come on Brett, you ought to be pulling me up for that.” Brett rolled his eyes and pushed Kaiden. He led on until they reached the stables, their horses were still tired from their previous sneakout.
“Mole’s Town again?” Kaiden shrugged.
“Is there anywhere else?” Brett chuckled to himself quietly.
“I s’pose not. Let’s go.” The two climbed onto their Garron’s and prepared for their long ride. The night was young, but yet later than they had hoped.
-
The small town stood in front of them as they rode their Garron’s through the bush to avoid any attention on the roads. Brett gawked at Mole’s Town.
“Interesting just how much of it is underground. Look’s so innocent from here, eh?” Kaiden laughed, staring at the small village.
“Aye, it’s small on the outside, big on the in. Who’s that remind you of?” The two laughed, there were no words needed to be said to the jape.
“Oh well, let’s go get drunk Kaid. I want to fill my stomach with some warmth, the damn Wall and it’s cool winds.” Brett gave an overacted shiver, making Kaiden laugh.
The two rode through the entrance of Mole Town’s small walls. A few buildings lay inside the protections of these walls, mainly just stores, stables and inns. Beneath one of the inns was a cellar, than under that was the true side of Mole’s Town. The two rode their tired horses to the stables, cracking the ice that had frozen over the drinking holes before leaving them. The two walked out and headed towards Whore’s Hole, a tavern most visited by the Black Brothers of the Wall. Brett opened the door and beckoned for Kaiden to enter, Kaiden just laughed.
“Thank you, Ser Brett of Whore’s Hole.” Brett joined in on the laughter, then entered without Kaiden.
The inn was crowded tonight, mostly with the locals. Brett headed over to the entrance of the cellars, which was guarded by a brute of a man. Next to him was a table with weapons on it. Kaiden joined Brett, who was studying the new bouncer.
“So… What’s all this?” Brett asked, studying the weapons.
“Had an incident the other night, one of your brothers pulled a sword on the other. The Mother Mistress has requested all brothers in black leave their arms here while in Mole’s Town.” The bouncer had a deep and steady voice. Brett shrugged and unsheathed his sword, Kaiden did the same. The bouncer checked them over then gave them access to the cellar, to which they instantly headed down to the tunnels.
Mole’s Town was crowded during the night’s. The place could be considered nocturnal, as most of the inhabitants were either late night whore’s or brothers from the Wall. Kaiden and Brett headed straight to the brothel, realising there was only a few hours left until they needed to head back. A red lantern hung over the door of the brothel, the two opened the door and entered. The lights inside were all dimmed and a dark red, it was always hard to see. Brett spotted someone he recognised and called out to them.
“Harris! Jonathan! You traitorous brothers, how are you!” Brett walked over to the brothers who were actually brothers. Kaiden leant on a post and looked around.
A few brothers sat on the bar counter, drowning their sorrows in mead and ale. Harris, Jonathan and Brett sat around a table drinking while whores sat on their laps. There were no other black brothers here to Kaiden’s surprise. Must have been something important happening back at the Wall. Kaiden spotted a young lass staring at him while she cleaned a table. He grinned at her and she sent a flirtatious smile back. She beckoned at him with her finger, then disappeared behind the curtain of the ‘private entertainment’ room. Kaiden emptied his pockets of all his pennies and halfpennies, there was enough to cover the cost. Kaiden looked over to Brett, who was happily chatting away with Harris and Jonathan. I’m sure they won’t notice me being gone a while. Kaiden walked over to the curtains and entered, a short and fun night was set out in front of him.
-
Dawn was coming and it was time for the brothers to leave. Kaiden, Brett, Harris and Jonathan were the last brothers to leave. The responsible brothers had left earlier, not having as much to drink and likely getting back without anyone knowing about it. Though Kaiden and Brett has a reputation for mischief, and they had dragged Harris and Jonathan with them now. The four collected their weapons from the table and sheathed them back to their waists. They left Whore’s Hole and stumbled back to the stables to get their horses. The brothers entered and climbed onto their horses, slowly and surely. Brett barfed all over a haystack, though managed to ride out of the stables without falling off his horse. Harris and Jonathan weren’t so lucky, Kaiden knew they had a long trip ahead of them.
-
The four arrived at the Nightfort around roughly midday. Kaiden, being the most sober of the four, had to come up with an excuse for their absence. Because Brett, Harris and himself were rangers, it was easy to say they had been scouting. Though Jonathan was a builder, and there was no excuse for him leaving the premises. Odin Umber and Ser Ulrich Dayne stood at the main entrance to the Nightfort, watching the four drunk men attempt to be sober as they approached the Nightfort. Odin’s arms were crossed and his face was scowled. Ser Ulrich had his arms tucked behind him and wore disappointment on his face. Odin was the first to speak once the four arrived.
“You lot better have a bloody good excuse why I shouldn’t have you beheaded for desertion.” A cold rush ran through Kaiden’s body. He did not know what scared him more, death or the wrath of Odin Umber. Kaiden spoke.
“We were… Searching for treasure at Mole’s Town.” The others quickly pitched in to try and make the story sound believable. Odin was not impressed, he turned to Ser Ulrich.
“The swords in the darkness, the Watchers on the Wall. The Watchers who go whoring at fucking Mole’s Town rather than manning the Wall. What is the Watch turning into?” Odin shook his head in disappointment and left. Ser Ulrich sighed.
“Get yourself cleaned up, don’t let anyone see you. And don’t ever be caught doing this again, or I’ll personally remove your heads from your shoulders.” The men nodded and quickly thanked him for his mercy.
The four put their horses back into their pens and stumbled out. Harris and Jonathan headed to the barracks, Brett looked at Kaiden.
“Well, we got sprung but it was a hell of a night. How was she?” Kaiden was at first confused, then gathered that Brett must have seen him sneak off.
“Better than that tavern wench you hooked up with back at Torrhen’s Square.” Brett raised an eyebrow.
“Really? Well next time I will have to-” The two were interrupted by Odin, who stood over the two men like a giant.
“Go on, conclude your sentence.” Brett shook his head. “No? Good. I’m not coming here out of my good will, I simply need one more man to come with me beyond the Wall to find First Ranger Niclas. Which one of you will go?” Brett looked at Kaiden, both of them did not want to go, but one would pitch in for the other.
Kaiden
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s bar… moreracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he jo… [view original content]
Kaiden
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s bar… moreracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he jo… [view original content]
Kaiden
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s bar… moreracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he jo… [view original content]
Kaiden
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s bar… moreracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he jo… [view original content]
Kaiden
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s bar… moreracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he jo… [view original content]
The Haunted Forest truly lived up to its name. Thomyr had lived among the woods all of his life, though the sounds of the unknown were always a fear to him. Thomyr collected blackberries off a blackberry bush while he waited for Jorald to return from his scouting run. The two were scouts for the Nightrunners, often spying on the Hornfoots. Especially now, when the Nightrunners were in a state of weakness since their chief had died from an illness, which now spread through the clan. The perfect blackberry was nested amongst a dozen sharp thorns, though Thomyr was determined to get it. He reached in slowly, desperately trying not to harm himself too much. He got his hand around the berry and gently pulled it free of its stem. Movement in the distance caused Thomyr to jump and slice his hand on the thorns. He pulled out his hand to inspect the injury, it was a bloody mess. Thorns stuck out of the wound, Thomyr pulled them out. Fuck. He heard more movement, and turned to see where it was coming from. The day was at last light, and it was the perfect time for nocturnal predators to hunt their sleeping prey. Thomyr unsheathed his steel dagger and grabbed a stick out of the fire, readying himself for an attack. A figure moved through the shadows, rustling the bushes and slowly moving towards him. He looked closer, seeing two bright blue dots staring directly at him. As he moved closer to examine them, something grabbed his shoulder. He quickly turned and placed the dagger to a man wearing leather and cave bear fur. It was Jorald.
“Hey, easy now big man. I’m on your side.” Thomyr lowered his dagger, then moved back to the warmth of the fire.
“You scared the shit out of me, Jorald. Don’t do that.” Jorald laughed. He was older than Thomyr, but in size comparisons, Thomyr could squash him like a bug with his strength.
“Get over yourself, Thomyr.” Jorald sat next to the fire and unpacked his bag, revealing a couple of skinned rabbits.
“I’m serious, we’re in Hornfoot lands now. I don’t want you sneaking about and making me think I’m being watched. Hell I bet those blue dots were just your damn beast staring at me.” Jorald looked up, slightly confused.
“What blue dots? And I haven’t seen Scar in three days now.” Thomyr shook his head in disbelief.
“It had to be that damn wolf, the beast stared at me with blue eyes!” Jorald laughed.
“You sound like a cave dweller, Thomyr. Scar does not have blue eyes, and if he saw you he would kill you. Not him. You were probably just imagining it.” Thomyr gave Jorald a glowering stare.
Jorald put the fillets of meat onto a stick and placed it over the fire. Thomyr calmed himself down and sat next to the fire on his mat. Jorald warmed his hands as he watched the meat slowly cook.
“So, what did you find?” Jorald shrugged, he grabbed his spear and looked over it as he had every night.
“The Hornfoot’s seem lazy, open for an attack. They know we are vulnerable, though whether they are planning to strike at us, I couldn’t tell.” Thomyr sighed, the Hornfoots had been nervously quiet.
“Guess we’ll head back in the morning? Let them know what we have found.” Jorald nodded, focussing more on the task at hand. Thomyr stared at the simmering meat for a while, until Jorald got up.
“Going for a piss, watch the meat.” Thomyr nodded and took over, watching Jorald disappear into the darkness of the forest. The sounds of the forest had slowly gone quiet, making the crackling fire sound irregular and disturbing.
Thomyr began to whistle a tune as he slowly turned the meat over and over. The sound of footsteps moving in the distance made him stop. He looked around, spotting the blue dots now standing higher and in a different location.
“Jorald…” Jorald walked back to the fire, letting out a loud yawn.
“What?” Thomyr pointed at the blue dots, Jorald looked around confused, but then he saw them. He picked up a stick from the fire and threw it towards the staring blue eyes. The fire landed in front of the creature, not a creature - a man. In front of them stood a pale black crow with bright blue eyes. Jorald sighed.
“Hello there, crow. Can we help you with something?” Jorald picked up his spear, slowly walking towards the crow. Thomyr unsheathed his dagger and stood, watching the crow closely.
“Jorald, I wouldn’t.” Jorald looked back, wearing a mocking smile.
“Do wha-” That was it, Jorald was on the ground as a consequence of the crow pouncing him. Thomyr ran towards the two men on the ground and pulled the crow off. The crow turned and looked at Thomyr with his pale blue eyes. Is he… Dead? The crow hissed at Thomyr and tried to bite him, he could do nothing but try and fend him off.
“Jorald… Help!” Jorald had gotten up and grabbed his spear.
“Get out of the way!” Jorald lunged his spear through the back of the crow, Thomyr jumping out of the way just in time.
The crow stopped and fell to the ground, the spear sticking through him. Jorald knelt next to the crow and examined him. His features were rough and cold, but there was something about him. A golden locket connected to a silver chain lay around his neck. Jorald removed the item off the dead crow.
“Well, the crow won’t be needing this.” Jorald stood up and walked towards Thomyr to show him the locket. Directly behind him, the crow had gotten up.
“J-J- JORALD!” The crow pounced on Jorald and attempted to bite his flesh.
“GET HIM OFF!” Jorald screamed, desperately fighting the crow’s strength. Thomyr ran over to the crow and picked him up. The crow tried to free himself by kicking and screaming, but it was no use. Thomyr threw the crow into the fire, a screeching noise followed it. The crow rolled around in the fire, though instead of screaming, it gave a high pitched shriek. Thomyr watched as the crow burned to death, Jorald was still on the ground.
“You alright Jorald?” He shook his head, then pointed off to the distance. Three lights rode towards them, more black crows.
Jorald got up and readied himself with his spear, Thomyr unsheathed his dagger and held it close. The crows circled around them, their weapons drawn.
“Well well, what have we got here?” One of them said, he had silver hair that fell to his shoulders and violet eyes.
“Couple of wildlings, want me to put an end to them?” The other continued, he had black hair and a short mustache and beard.
“No, we’d best question them. Ser Ulrich, Charles Black, tie them up and ride back to Castle Black. Kaiden and I shall continue our search for Niclas.” The older man said, he wore a black hood and eyepatch. Though the man’s sheer size already told Thomyr that he was an Umber.
The Umber and Kaiden rode off. Ser Ulrich and Charles Black dismounted their Garron’s and slowly approached the two, swords in hand. Jorald lunged at Ser Ulrich, but was instantly disarmed and knocked unconscious. Charles Black walked towards Thomyr and swung his sword at him. Thomyr jumped back and dodged the blow. Thomyr was able to disarm Charles when he tried to strike again. Ser Ulrich got up and pointed his sword at Thomyr, as he held the blade to Charles’ throat.
“Drop it.” Charles broke away from Thomyr’s hold and pulled a dagger from his boot. The last thing Thomyr remembered was looking at the sword he had taken off of the crow, it was black steel.
Kaiden
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s bar… moreracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he jo… [view original content]
The gale force winds blew in from the east, across Ironman’s bay and stopped attacked the Iron Islands. Jared watched as the Storm God battled with the Drowned God in front of his very eyes. The Sea Tower was old and crooked, the salt spray had caused the base of the tower to go white over the past couple of centuries. Jared watched the battle for a long while, though was interrupted by the arms of a woman holding him from behind. He slowly turned to see his lover, Arika Goodbrother.
“Watching the battle?” Jared nodded, observing that it was an unfair fight for the Storm God.
“I didn’t hear you come up, how are you?” Arika laughed and snuggled closer to Jared.
“Nevermind me, my father sent me to find you. The Hoare wishes to see you.” Jared turned and stared her in the eyes, trying to see if she was mocking him. She was not.
“Does your father know about us? Is that why my father has sent for me, to punish me?” Arika shook her head.
“No, it is for another matter. Though he wishes to see you urgently. Something to do with the Harlaw’s was all my father said.” Jared nodded, still unsure of what to think. In the end he sighed and sat against the crumbling inner wall of the Sea Tower.
“Last thing I want to do is talk to my father. I wish the Drowned God would just take him, and your father too. Then we could be together without living under their shadows.” Arika frowned and knelt down next to him.
“I know, my love. I’m tired of hiding, all because your name is Pyke. My father forbids me to marry bastards or smallfolk, which means only one thing will keep us together.” Jared stared his lover in the eye, his expression doleful. He shook his head, mainly disappointed with himself.
“I’ll go see what the Hoare wants.” Jared got up and began to walk for the stairs, though Arika grabbed his hand and pulled him back. She stood up and placed a kiss on his lips. Jared pulled her close and hugged her for what he wished could have been a lifetime, though she pulled away.
“Go, I’ll see you soon.” Arika ascended the stairs to the balcony and watched as the Gods were finishing their war. Jared and Arika had usually done these things together, though this time was different. Jared turned and descended the stairs of the tower, heading for the Great Keep.
-
Jared crossed the rope bridge with caution as he made his way to the Great Keep. Banners of House Hoare were hung on the walls of the towers that Jared walked passed: A golden longboat on a black field. Ever since Jared had been noticed by his father at the age of twelve, his dream was to become a Hoare and leave his bastardy behind. The possibility of his dream coming true had slowly left Jared over the years, giving him a harsh and cruel appearance to those that he did not love. As Jared made his way over the final bridge, leading to the Great Keep, he noticed someone standing in the rain staring out at sea. It was Tanner, his drinking companion and shield brother. He held a bloody bandage over his hand.
“Tanner, you right?” Tanner turned, spotted Jared, and grinned.
“Yeah, was just playing the finger dance with the Goodbrother. Boy does he have some power in that arm of his.” Jared laughed and walked over.
“Show me.” Tanner unwrapped his right hand, the only fingers still intact were his thumb and index.
“Bloody mess, you’d think I’d wrestled a kraken.” The two men laughed.
“No, just an old man with a better swing than you. Guess that’s not hard.” Jared winked and then patted him on the back. He left his one trustful friend to stare out at the sea as he entered the Great Keep.
The Great Keep was huge, capping the whole island with its size. A covered stone walkway connected the Great Keep to the Guest Keep, resting on another island. Jared walked through the Keep’s halls until he reached the Great Hall, the home of the Seastone Chair. Legends told that thousands of years ago, the First Men that claimed the Iron Islands had found the Seastone Chair on the shores of Old Wyk. The chair itself was a work of art, oily black stone carved into the shape of a kraken. Some believed it was House Greyjoy’s inspiration for their coat of arms. In that chair sat King Qhored Hoare, his first born son - Thelred Hoare - stood beside him. Qhored was unable to sit still, simply showing that he would rather be doing something else but his duty as King forced him to be seated. Jared stopped in front of his father and half-brother and knelt. Qhored laughed uncontrollaby. After a long while, he calmed himself.
“There is no need to kneel, boy. Rise.” Qhored had a harsh and hoarse tone to his voice.
“You wanted to see me father?” Qhored nodded.
“Aye, about the Harlaw’s. Some don’t believe my rule to be just, the Harlaw’s being one of the few. They refuse to join our cause and from that we are losing men. I want you to take thirty good men and kill the Harlaw, force the heir to join our cause.” Qhored cracked his neck and jaw, trying to make himself comfortable.
“Why not send Thelred? He is your legitimate son, he’d be more likely to pull this off.” Qhored looked at Thelred, his son hesitated but nodded and left. Qhored waited until the boy was out of ears reach.
“Yes, the boy is my legitimate son and nine times of ten I’d choose him over you. Though this is the one time for you to prove yourself. Thelred is a good boy, a nice boy. His kind die in the Iron Islands, you though. I need you for the job. Can you handle it?” Qhored glared at Jared, who desperately tried to avoid eye contact.
“Aye, I can.” Qhored gave a wolfish grin.
“Good, you may choose whether you wish to take your brother or that boy. What’s his name? Travis? Trent?”
“Tanner.” Jared said interrupting. Qhored smirked.
“That’s the one. You can choose if you wish to take him or your brother, though only one as the boat you’re taking is small. You can not take any, I really don’t care. Just keep in mind you leave within the hour, you’ll be taking the ‘Seahorse’ to Harlaw.” Jared nodded and turned to make his way for the door.
“Jared.” Jared turned and looked at the bearded man who stood from his throne.
“Aye?” Qhored walked to Jared until he was close enough to whisper into his ear, to which he did.
“Do this right, and you’ll be a step closer to getting my name.” Jared pulled himself back, somewhat surprised. His father grinned then retreated to his throne, Jared went over his options.
[Take Tanner] [Take Thelred] [Take no one - spend your time with Arika instead]
Comments
Yeah, now he looks a much more original, good job!
Great, I love it! Really like how you're handling my character!
[Go with them]
One is always glad to be of service
Glad you like him
I think he is going to be one of the main antagonist's of the story :P
Awesome!
Ian
The sun slowly set behind the walls of Winterfell. The courtyard emptied as the Stark soldiers had finished with their sparring. Ian Morland was the master-at-arms at Winterfell, training novice swordsman into the proud and honorable Stark soldiers. Ian walked around the courtyard and collected the blunt edged swords. He placed them in their racks and moved them into the armory, where he would spent countless hours cleaning the blood and rust off of the steel. Ian slowly picked up the first sword and began to remove the blood stains. Memories began to flood back of the bloody swords that had slain his wife and son. Tears began to well up in his eyes. An unexpected jolt of fear hit Ian as the door to the armory opened. Ian unsheathed his family longsword, ‘Scratch.’ The sword was a beautiful work of art, the folding of Valyrian steel. It was the last thing that Ian had of his home back in the Reach. Ian turned and faced his unexpected company. In front of him stood the young, simple-minded recruit: Bendor Went. Bendor also had a horrible history, where his family had been killed in a storm during the Winter.
“Bendor? What are you doing here at this time in the evening?” Bendor smiled, happy to see he had surprised his mentor. Ian sheathed his sword.
“I was talking to the king, about applying for the kingsguard…” Ian’s mood brightened up, he had been training Bendor for this moment.
“And?” Bendor let out a long sigh.
“Well, he said he would consider it.” Ian frowned, a little disappointed with the answer.
“Oh well, I guess there is always the infantry.” Bendor shook his head.
“No, I will continue to fight for this. It is the only thing I want, to protect the king. Talking of the king, he wishes to see you.” Ian raised an eyebrow. Me? Why would he want to see me? Bendor smiled, obviously reading Ian’s expression.
“I don’t know what he wants, but he wishes to see you urgently.” Ian stood still for a moment, then nodded.
“I’ll head there after I’ve cleaned all this up, give me a hand?” Bendor had already picked up the sword Ian dropped and started at it. Ian chuckled, Bendor was always one to put action before words.
-
Ian walked through the halls of the Great Keep on his way to the Great Hall. Still very curious to why King Benjen had summoned him. The Keep was warm, though there were no hearths. Ian thought back to the stories of Winterfell and Bran the Builder. It was supposed that Bran had built his Keep over the hot springs to keep it warm, Ian was more than certain this was true. Ian left the Keep and entered the Great Hall, the seat of the King in the North. The night was getting late, the skies were already dark. The Great Hall was mostly empty, the eight long rows of trestle tables were empty. Only a few sat around the nobility table, risen on a platform to overlook the other tables. Ian approached the platform and knelt before his King, who sat in his seat.
“Your grace, you summoned me?” Those at the table looked up to see a man covered in grime and dirt from the courtyards, the King was happy to see him nonetheless.
“Ian Morland! Please, take a seat.” The King smiled and beckoned for Ian to sit on the far end of the table, opposite to the King himself.
“Ian Morland is our master-at-arms here at Winterfell. Ian, may I please introduce you to Norrhen Cassel and Donovan Umber, Lord of the Last Hearth. And you of course know my son, Brandon.” Ian nodded to the three nobles as he sat down.
“It is a pleasure to meet you all, for those I have not met.” The table roared with laughter, mainly from the thundering Umber. The King spoke up.
“Lord Donovan, I am curious. How does your younger brother fare on the Wall?” Donovan grinned.
“Odin is a Ranger, currently fighting for the position of First Ranger. You know how it all works Benjen.” The two men laughed, Ian sat quietly. Brandon stared at him, and then spoke up.
“Father, perhaps you would tell Master Morland why you have summoned him.” The King broke away from his laughter and looked confused, he then spotted Ian and chuckled to himself.
“Oh my, I apologise Ian. I am getting quite forgetful as I begin to grow old.” Ian smiled, then tried to reassure the King he was not offended.
“It is no matter, your grace. To be in your presence is all a man could ever wish for.” The King laughed loudly, joined by Donovan.
“You flatter me, Morland. Now, down to certain matters at hand. I received a raven from my daughter at the Dreadfort.” Ian raised his eyebrows.
“Your grace, what is a Stark doing in enemy lands?” Ian was unsure of what made the laughter cause this time, the shock in his voice or the plain lack of information he had.
“No no, Ian. I married my daughter to Lord Bolton years ago to settle an alliance. Recently my daughter has sent a raven saying that Lord Bolton is unpleased with his position, like many others in the realm. He has gathered the Locke’s, Hornwood’s, Frost’s and Greystark’s to support him in his goal to become the Red King. We cannot let this happen, but the main priority is to get my daughter back to safety behind these walls. That is what Norrhen is here for.” Norrhen nodded to Ian.
“I see your grace, but what do you want me to do about it? I am only the master-at-arms…” Benjen chuckled to himself once again.
“Ian, your talent as a swordsman and leader is not to be wasted as a simple master-at-arms. Since you came to us and told us what happened to your family and lands, with that bastard brother of yours, I was truly hurt. Now I see potential for you, become a General in my army. Lead my soldiers to battle against the Bolton’s and their allies.” Ian froze stiff, an opportunity like this had never presented itself to him before.
“Your grace, I am… Honoured. Are you sure about this?” Norrhen answered this time.
“I’ve seen you fight in the yard. I’ve seen the way you teach men how to fight, the strategy you put into it. We need that out on the field, not locked away in these walls. You are the man for this role.” Benjen’s face then went serious.
“This is an important role, and I would not hand this out lightly. If you accept this task, you will be honoured and glorified till the end of your days with the battles you will fight in. Do you accept, Ian Morland?” Ian’s palms began to get sweaty, his face started to blush. He pushed it all away to give a strong and certain reply.
“I will, your grace.” Benjen’s stern face went into a cheery smile. Donovan raised his cup, half pissed drunk.
“To Ian Morgan- wait no, Morle- ah bugger it. To the new General of the Stark army!” The men at the table raised their cups and downed their drinks. Ian stood and bowed, he had not felt this happy since he had met his wife and fathered his son. The memories began to flood back, and his old self came back with it. Sadness took over his body, he now needed to leave before he embarrassed himself.
“If that will be all, your grace. I have to finish my duties in the armory.” The King nodded.
“Bound to your duties until the end! That’s the kind of leadership we need! Before you go, please inform that young man, Bendor is it? He will now be a part of the kingsguard. I understand you are like a father to him, so you may tell him or I can. That will be all.” The sadness evaporated in the new heat of joy that filled Ian’s heart. Ian turned and bowed, quickly rushing out of the Great Hall. Ian felt he could not wait to tell Bendor, though the thought of being told by the King himself may be considered more honourable.
[Tell Bendor] [Let the King tell Bendor]
[Go with them]
Yay! It will be interesting to see Julie's PoV!
[Go with them]
[Let the King tell Bendor]
[Tell Bendor]
[Go with them]
[Tell Bendor]
[Let the King tell Bendor]
[Go with them]
[Tell Bendor]
[Tell Bendor]
[Go with them]
[Tell Bendor]
Vote closed. Julie will stay with The Mangler's and go South of the Wall.
Vote closed! Ian will tell Bendor of the news.
Tristifer
The Nightfort was a bigger than the other castles along the Wall. Each man knew they could have a full room to themselves and there would still be enough room to sleep an army. The Nightfort was empty most of the time, only the First Steward, Lord Commander and Maester were the highest ranks at the Nightfort. The fort was mostly manned by stewards who maintained the day to day life, and the builders who worked on the Wall. Few Rangers lived at the Nightfort, as there resting point was Castle Black. Tristifer slowly roamed through the long hall called the ‘shield hall,’ which was located between the Lord Commander’s quarters and the library. The shield hall was the only place which was vibrant with colour. Shields with turtles, lions, stags, hands, flowers, fish, shooting stars, falcons, eagles and other sigils belonging to great houses coated the hall which stretched over a hundred metres. Tristifer stopped and gazed at one shield, his own. A brown dire wolf on a dark green hill howling to a full moon. A pang of guilt shot through Tristifer like a dart. He shook it away and moved on. In front of him stood a tall man, staring at a shield with the sigil of House Umber.
“Morning Odin. Rest well?” The giant man turned to Tristifer, staring at him with his only good eye. The other was hidden behind an eyepatch.
“Barely, damn Nightmares still haunt my sleep. Ever since that night beyond the Wall…” Tristifer shook his head, disappointed.
“Odin, I keep saying to talk to the Maester, or the First Steward. There is nothing I can do to help you.” Odin quietly chuckled to himself.
“Aye, but stewards and maester’s don’t go beyond the wall like us rangers. The Lord Commander has chosen me to lead a search party for Niclas. I’m currently gathering men, and need some suggestions. We leave tomorrow.” Tristifer thought of the best rangers currently stationed at the Nightfort, there were not many.
“I’d say Ser Ulrich and Charles Black are your best choices. Kaiden, Brett and Harris are all young and naive, but it’s up to you. I need to find the Lord Commander now, is he in his quarters?” Odin nodded and Tristifer began to walk away. Odin grabbed his arm before leaving, wearing a concerned expression.
“Watch yourself, Tristifer. I’ve seen the way Rodrik looks at you, he notices that you have more respect from the men then he does.” Odin let go of Tristifer and shook his head.
“None of that matters now anyway, if you had seen what I’ve seen out there. I fear the worst for the First Ranger.” Tristifer rolled his eyes, then patted the man on the back.
“Go see the maester, then get some rest. You’re likely to have a long ride ahead of you tomorrow.” Odin grunted, but nodded.
“Stay safe, Oldstark.” Tristifer gave a faint smile and left the hall, leaving the old man to his thoughts.
-
The Lord Commander’s door was shut, meaning that it was currently being occupied. Tristifer sat on a bench for a good half an hour before growing suspicious of what was happening on the other side of the door. Tristifer got up and slowly approached the door, being as quiet as he could. He placed his ear against the wooden frame and listened for a sound, to which he heard two voices.
“Those wildlings need a banner to fall under, a certain King Beyond the Wall…” A hoarse and harsh voice said.
“Aye, but I still am curious of what my brother is trying to say in this letter.” The Lord Commander spoke quietly compared to the other in the room.
“Perhaps we should gather those faithful... Snowgate, Torches, Rimegate, Icemark… All believe in your leadership…” Tristifer grew too curious, and heard too little from his position. He straightened himself and gave three loud bangs on the door. The voices grew silent. After a moment, the Lord Commander replied.
“Enter.” Tristifer opened the door to see Hogar ‘Big Bird’ and Lord Commander Flint sitting at their table. Hogar stood up, still in his blacksmith apron.
“I will return to my forge, remember what I said.” Rodrik nodded and Hogar left, bumping into Tristifer as he did. Rodrik smiled and beckoned for Tristifer to sit.
“What can I do for you, Tristifer?” Tristifer could see through the fake smile, a wry old man was hidden beneath and hard to see with the inexperienced eye.
“I wish to speak to you about taking a week leave from the Wall. My father is… Dying, and I wish to see him before he passes.” Rodrik’s expression saddened, and he seemed truly hurt for a moment.
“That pains me to hear that, I will grant your wish.” Rodrik pulled a blank piece of paper and his ink and quill. As he wrote the pardon, Tristifer stared at a letter adjacent to him.
“Lord Commander, if you do not mind me asking. What was it you were talking about with Hogar?” Rodrik slowly put down his quill, his happy smile had faded with the cold wind that blew through the open door, making the loose papers fly everywhere.
“Bugger, could you give me a hand with these?” Tristifer nodded, walking to the door to shut it. He returned and helped pick up the unread letters, one bared the sigil of House Flint of Breakstone Hill. Rodrik quickly gazed at it, panic growing in his face.
“Give me that, official business in there. Nothing that a mere weapons trainer should bore himself with.” Rodrik snatched the letter and placed it in the draw of his desk. Once the two were finished cleaning up, Rodrik continued where he had left off with the pardon.
“My lord, you were saying…” Rodrik looked up, a little confused. He placed his signature at the bottom of the letter then waxed it closed.
“Oh, yes. Hogar and I talked of First Ranger Niclas. We are planning to give First Ranger to someone experienced until he is found. Castle Black is currently without a leader since Niclas and his squire went off on their small errand.” Tristifer nodded. But why talk to a blacksmith about it? Rodrik handed over the letter to Tristifer and smiled.
“Thank you Lord Commander, I will never forget this.” Rodrik laughed aloud.
“Nor should you, I am a great man. Give your father my regards... And wishes for a safe passage to the afterlife.” Tristifer shuddered at the thought, but nodded in thanks. Tristifer got up and walked to the door, though before leaving he was stopped by Rodrik.
“Watch yourself out there, I’ve received ravens from Sentinel Stand and Greywatch claiming that Wildlings are climbing over the Wall and raiding the farmers in our lands. We should have it under control soon, but just something to keep in mind.” Rodrik smiled inscrutably, Tristifer showed manners and smiled back, then left.
The snowfall had gotten heavier since the short discussion with the Lord Commander. Tristifer looked at the letter, then thought back to Odin’s words. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, he notices the men like you more than him. Tristifer fingered the seal of the letter, feeling unsure of whether it was actually a pardon from the Wall or not. Perhaps Tristifer was just overreacting, Odin was an old and wise man, though he was not always right.
[Break the seal, check the letter] [Leave the letter untouched]
[Leave the letter untouched]
[Break the seal, check the letter]
[Leave the letter untouched]
[Break the seal, check the letter]
[Leave the letter untouched]
Ah damn, I got unfollowed and missed the last two votings. Anyway, the options that eventually won would have been the ones I would have taken either way
[Break the seal, check the letter]
[Break the seal, check the letter]
[Leave the letter untouched]
[Leave the letter untouched]
Vote closed! Tristifer will leave the letter untouched and head to Ol'Tower as planned.
Kaiden
Darkness filled the clear sky, stars beginning to appear through the clouds. Kaiden stared out his window from the Nightfort’s barracks, staying quiet while his brothers slept. Brett sat in his bed across from Kaiden, staring at the exit to the barracks: a light still flickered outside. Kaiden and Brett were practically brothers. They had grown up together on Skane, then sailed to the North to look for work. The two found work at a tavern in Torrhen’s Square. The owner of the tavern was a gaunt man, with a round belly. He was uglier than an auroch’s arse, but his daughter was a charmer. One night, Brett had slept with the owner’s daughter. He did not do well enough to hide his tracks, getting the girl pregnant. The innkeeper insisted to his liege lords that Brett be executed, though Alvar Snow persuaded Lord Tallhart to take Brett with him to the Wall. The pay at the tavern was not enough to keep Kaiden happy working there, so he joined Brett on his journey to the Wall. Now the two had been caught with some girls at Mole’s Town, and were locked in the Bastard’s Barracks. The Bastard’s Barracks were for those brothers who were untrustworthy, mostly bastards or thieves. The light at the door had finally gone out. Good, that means the guard is gone. Brett and Kaiden silently rose from their beds and walked to the door. Kaiden grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. Locked.
“Well what did you expect?” Brett whispered, smiling at Kaiden. Kaiden rolled his eyes and moved out of they way. Brett crouched at the door and pulled out his tension wrench and pick and did his work with the lock. The bolt clicked as it unlocked, causing the door to swing open. Brett grinned and the two snuck out.
They both descended the icy stairs, watching for guards that may have still been on duty. The stables were just opposite the rookery, that was their destination. The two snuck past a wagon full of dead grass for the horses and bumped into a brother. The sleeping brother was supposedly on duty, though now was snuggled up to the warmth of a fire. Brett let out a breath of relief, Kaiden quickly shushed him.
“Come on Brett, you ought to be pulling me up for that.” Brett rolled his eyes and pushed Kaiden. He led on until they reached the stables, their horses were still tired from their previous sneakout.
“Mole’s Town again?” Kaiden shrugged.
“Is there anywhere else?” Brett chuckled to himself quietly.
“I s’pose not. Let’s go.” The two climbed onto their Garron’s and prepared for their long ride. The night was young, but yet later than they had hoped.
-
The small town stood in front of them as they rode their Garron’s through the bush to avoid any attention on the roads. Brett gawked at Mole’s Town.
“Interesting just how much of it is underground. Look’s so innocent from here, eh?” Kaiden laughed, staring at the small village.
“Aye, it’s small on the outside, big on the in. Who’s that remind you of?” The two laughed, there were no words needed to be said to the jape.
“Oh well, let’s go get drunk Kaid. I want to fill my stomach with some warmth, the damn Wall and it’s cool winds.” Brett gave an overacted shiver, making Kaiden laugh.
The two rode through the entrance of Mole Town’s small walls. A few buildings lay inside the protections of these walls, mainly just stores, stables and inns. Beneath one of the inns was a cellar, than under that was the true side of Mole’s Town. The two rode their tired horses to the stables, cracking the ice that had frozen over the drinking holes before leaving them. The two walked out and headed towards Whore’s Hole, a tavern most visited by the Black Brothers of the Wall. Brett opened the door and beckoned for Kaiden to enter, Kaiden just laughed.
“Thank you, Ser Brett of Whore’s Hole.” Brett joined in on the laughter, then entered without Kaiden.
The inn was crowded tonight, mostly with the locals. Brett headed over to the entrance of the cellars, which was guarded by a brute of a man. Next to him was a table with weapons on it. Kaiden joined Brett, who was studying the new bouncer.
“So… What’s all this?” Brett asked, studying the weapons.
“Had an incident the other night, one of your brothers pulled a sword on the other. The Mother Mistress has requested all brothers in black leave their arms here while in Mole’s Town.” The bouncer had a deep and steady voice. Brett shrugged and unsheathed his sword, Kaiden did the same. The bouncer checked them over then gave them access to the cellar, to which they instantly headed down to the tunnels.
Mole’s Town was crowded during the night’s. The place could be considered nocturnal, as most of the inhabitants were either late night whore’s or brothers from the Wall. Kaiden and Brett headed straight to the brothel, realising there was only a few hours left until they needed to head back. A red lantern hung over the door of the brothel, the two opened the door and entered. The lights inside were all dimmed and a dark red, it was always hard to see. Brett spotted someone he recognised and called out to them.
“Harris! Jonathan! You traitorous brothers, how are you!” Brett walked over to the brothers who were actually brothers. Kaiden leant on a post and looked around.
A few brothers sat on the bar counter, drowning their sorrows in mead and ale. Harris, Jonathan and Brett sat around a table drinking while whores sat on their laps. There were no other black brothers here to Kaiden’s surprise. Must have been something important happening back at the Wall. Kaiden spotted a young lass staring at him while she cleaned a table. He grinned at her and she sent a flirtatious smile back. She beckoned at him with her finger, then disappeared behind the curtain of the ‘private entertainment’ room. Kaiden emptied his pockets of all his pennies and halfpennies, there was enough to cover the cost. Kaiden looked over to Brett, who was happily chatting away with Harris and Jonathan. I’m sure they won’t notice me being gone a while. Kaiden walked over to the curtains and entered, a short and fun night was set out in front of him.
-
Dawn was coming and it was time for the brothers to leave. Kaiden, Brett, Harris and Jonathan were the last brothers to leave. The responsible brothers had left earlier, not having as much to drink and likely getting back without anyone knowing about it. Though Kaiden and Brett has a reputation for mischief, and they had dragged Harris and Jonathan with them now. The four collected their weapons from the table and sheathed them back to their waists. They left Whore’s Hole and stumbled back to the stables to get their horses. The brothers entered and climbed onto their horses, slowly and surely. Brett barfed all over a haystack, though managed to ride out of the stables without falling off his horse. Harris and Jonathan weren’t so lucky, Kaiden knew they had a long trip ahead of them.
-
The four arrived at the Nightfort around roughly midday. Kaiden, being the most sober of the four, had to come up with an excuse for their absence. Because Brett, Harris and himself were rangers, it was easy to say they had been scouting. Though Jonathan was a builder, and there was no excuse for him leaving the premises. Odin Umber and Ser Ulrich Dayne stood at the main entrance to the Nightfort, watching the four drunk men attempt to be sober as they approached the Nightfort. Odin’s arms were crossed and his face was scowled. Ser Ulrich had his arms tucked behind him and wore disappointment on his face. Odin was the first to speak once the four arrived.
“You lot better have a bloody good excuse why I shouldn’t have you beheaded for desertion.” A cold rush ran through Kaiden’s body. He did not know what scared him more, death or the wrath of Odin Umber. Kaiden spoke.
“We were… Searching for treasure at Mole’s Town.” The others quickly pitched in to try and make the story sound believable. Odin was not impressed, he turned to Ser Ulrich.
“The swords in the darkness, the Watchers on the Wall. The Watchers who go whoring at fucking Mole’s Town rather than manning the Wall. What is the Watch turning into?” Odin shook his head in disappointment and left. Ser Ulrich sighed.
“Get yourself cleaned up, don’t let anyone see you. And don’t ever be caught doing this again, or I’ll personally remove your heads from your shoulders.” The men nodded and quickly thanked him for his mercy.
The four put their horses back into their pens and stumbled out. Harris and Jonathan headed to the barracks, Brett looked at Kaiden.
“Well, we got sprung but it was a hell of a night. How was she?” Kaiden was at first confused, then gathered that Brett must have seen him sneak off.
“Better than that tavern wench you hooked up with back at Torrhen’s Square.” Brett raised an eyebrow.
“Really? Well next time I will have to-” The two were interrupted by Odin, who stood over the two men like a giant.
“Go on, conclude your sentence.” Brett shook his head. “No? Good. I’m not coming here out of my good will, I simply need one more man to come with me beyond the Wall to find First Ranger Niclas. Which one of you will go?” Brett looked at Kaiden, both of them did not want to go, but one would pitch in for the other.
[Go beyond the Wall] [Let Brett go]
[Go beyond the Wall]
[Go beyond the wall]
We already have 2 other PoVs at the Wall, so...
[Go beyond the Wall]
[Go beyond the Wall]
[Go beyond the Wall]
Vote closed! Kaiden will go beyond the Wall. Sorry to end this vote so quickly, you'll see why next part.
Thomyr
The Haunted Forest truly lived up to its name. Thomyr had lived among the woods all of his life, though the sounds of the unknown were always a fear to him. Thomyr collected blackberries off a blackberry bush while he waited for Jorald to return from his scouting run. The two were scouts for the Nightrunners, often spying on the Hornfoots. Especially now, when the Nightrunners were in a state of weakness since their chief had died from an illness, which now spread through the clan. The perfect blackberry was nested amongst a dozen sharp thorns, though Thomyr was determined to get it. He reached in slowly, desperately trying not to harm himself too much. He got his hand around the berry and gently pulled it free of its stem. Movement in the distance caused Thomyr to jump and slice his hand on the thorns. He pulled out his hand to inspect the injury, it was a bloody mess. Thorns stuck out of the wound, Thomyr pulled them out. Fuck. He heard more movement, and turned to see where it was coming from. The day was at last light, and it was the perfect time for nocturnal predators to hunt their sleeping prey. Thomyr unsheathed his steel dagger and grabbed a stick out of the fire, readying himself for an attack. A figure moved through the shadows, rustling the bushes and slowly moving towards him. He looked closer, seeing two bright blue dots staring directly at him. As he moved closer to examine them, something grabbed his shoulder. He quickly turned and placed the dagger to a man wearing leather and cave bear fur. It was Jorald.
“Hey, easy now big man. I’m on your side.” Thomyr lowered his dagger, then moved back to the warmth of the fire.
“You scared the shit out of me, Jorald. Don’t do that.” Jorald laughed. He was older than Thomyr, but in size comparisons, Thomyr could squash him like a bug with his strength.
“Get over yourself, Thomyr.” Jorald sat next to the fire and unpacked his bag, revealing a couple of skinned rabbits.
“I’m serious, we’re in Hornfoot lands now. I don’t want you sneaking about and making me think I’m being watched. Hell I bet those blue dots were just your damn beast staring at me.” Jorald looked up, slightly confused.
“What blue dots? And I haven’t seen Scar in three days now.” Thomyr shook his head in disbelief.
“It had to be that damn wolf, the beast stared at me with blue eyes!” Jorald laughed.
“You sound like a cave dweller, Thomyr. Scar does not have blue eyes, and if he saw you he would kill you. Not him. You were probably just imagining it.” Thomyr gave Jorald a glowering stare.
Jorald put the fillets of meat onto a stick and placed it over the fire. Thomyr calmed himself down and sat next to the fire on his mat. Jorald warmed his hands as he watched the meat slowly cook.
“So, what did you find?” Jorald shrugged, he grabbed his spear and looked over it as he had every night.
“The Hornfoot’s seem lazy, open for an attack. They know we are vulnerable, though whether they are planning to strike at us, I couldn’t tell.” Thomyr sighed, the Hornfoots had been nervously quiet.
“Guess we’ll head back in the morning? Let them know what we have found.” Jorald nodded, focussing more on the task at hand. Thomyr stared at the simmering meat for a while, until Jorald got up.
“Going for a piss, watch the meat.” Thomyr nodded and took over, watching Jorald disappear into the darkness of the forest. The sounds of the forest had slowly gone quiet, making the crackling fire sound irregular and disturbing.
Thomyr began to whistle a tune as he slowly turned the meat over and over. The sound of footsteps moving in the distance made him stop. He looked around, spotting the blue dots now standing higher and in a different location.
“Jorald…” Jorald walked back to the fire, letting out a loud yawn.
“What?” Thomyr pointed at the blue dots, Jorald looked around confused, but then he saw them. He picked up a stick from the fire and threw it towards the staring blue eyes. The fire landed in front of the creature, not a creature - a man. In front of them stood a pale black crow with bright blue eyes. Jorald sighed.
“Hello there, crow. Can we help you with something?” Jorald picked up his spear, slowly walking towards the crow. Thomyr unsheathed his dagger and stood, watching the crow closely.
“Jorald, I wouldn’t.” Jorald looked back, wearing a mocking smile.
“Do wha-” That was it, Jorald was on the ground as a consequence of the crow pouncing him. Thomyr ran towards the two men on the ground and pulled the crow off. The crow turned and looked at Thomyr with his pale blue eyes. Is he… Dead? The crow hissed at Thomyr and tried to bite him, he could do nothing but try and fend him off.
“Jorald… Help!” Jorald had gotten up and grabbed his spear.
“Get out of the way!” Jorald lunged his spear through the back of the crow, Thomyr jumping out of the way just in time.
The crow stopped and fell to the ground, the spear sticking through him. Jorald knelt next to the crow and examined him. His features were rough and cold, but there was something about him. A golden locket connected to a silver chain lay around his neck. Jorald removed the item off the dead crow.
“Well, the crow won’t be needing this.” Jorald stood up and walked towards Thomyr to show him the locket. Directly behind him, the crow had gotten up.
“J-J- JORALD!” The crow pounced on Jorald and attempted to bite his flesh.
“GET HIM OFF!” Jorald screamed, desperately fighting the crow’s strength. Thomyr ran over to the crow and picked him up. The crow tried to free himself by kicking and screaming, but it was no use. Thomyr threw the crow into the fire, a screeching noise followed it. The crow rolled around in the fire, though instead of screaming, it gave a high pitched shriek. Thomyr watched as the crow burned to death, Jorald was still on the ground.
“You alright Jorald?” He shook his head, then pointed off to the distance. Three lights rode towards them, more black crows.
Jorald got up and readied himself with his spear, Thomyr unsheathed his dagger and held it close. The crows circled around them, their weapons drawn.
“Well well, what have we got here?” One of them said, he had silver hair that fell to his shoulders and violet eyes.
“Couple of wildlings, want me to put an end to them?” The other continued, he had black hair and a short mustache and beard.
“No, we’d best question them. Ser Ulrich, Charles Black, tie them up and ride back to Castle Black. Kaiden and I shall continue our search for Niclas.” The older man said, he wore a black hood and eyepatch. Though the man’s sheer size already told Thomyr that he was an Umber.
The Umber and Kaiden rode off. Ser Ulrich and Charles Black dismounted their Garron’s and slowly approached the two, swords in hand. Jorald lunged at Ser Ulrich, but was instantly disarmed and knocked unconscious. Charles Black walked towards Thomyr and swung his sword at him. Thomyr jumped back and dodged the blow. Thomyr was able to disarm Charles when he tried to strike again. Ser Ulrich got up and pointed his sword at Thomyr, as he held the blade to Charles’ throat.
“Drop it.” Charles broke away from Thomyr’s hold and pulled a dagger from his boot. The last thing Thomyr remembered was looking at the sword he had taken off of the crow, it was black steel.
No decision this time.
[Go beyond the Wall]
Jared
The gale force winds blew in from the east, across Ironman’s bay and stopped attacked the Iron Islands. Jared watched as the Storm God battled with the Drowned God in front of his very eyes. The Sea Tower was old and crooked, the salt spray had caused the base of the tower to go white over the past couple of centuries. Jared watched the battle for a long while, though was interrupted by the arms of a woman holding him from behind. He slowly turned to see his lover, Arika Goodbrother.
“Watching the battle?” Jared nodded, observing that it was an unfair fight for the Storm God.
“I didn’t hear you come up, how are you?” Arika laughed and snuggled closer to Jared.
“Nevermind me, my father sent me to find you. The Hoare wishes to see you.” Jared turned and stared her in the eyes, trying to see if she was mocking him. She was not.
“Does your father know about us? Is that why my father has sent for me, to punish me?” Arika shook her head.
“No, it is for another matter. Though he wishes to see you urgently. Something to do with the Harlaw’s was all my father said.” Jared nodded, still unsure of what to think. In the end he sighed and sat against the crumbling inner wall of the Sea Tower.
“Last thing I want to do is talk to my father. I wish the Drowned God would just take him, and your father too. Then we could be together without living under their shadows.” Arika frowned and knelt down next to him.
“I know, my love. I’m tired of hiding, all because your name is Pyke. My father forbids me to marry bastards or smallfolk, which means only one thing will keep us together.” Jared stared his lover in the eye, his expression doleful. He shook his head, mainly disappointed with himself.
“I’ll go see what the Hoare wants.” Jared got up and began to walk for the stairs, though Arika grabbed his hand and pulled him back. She stood up and placed a kiss on his lips. Jared pulled her close and hugged her for what he wished could have been a lifetime, though she pulled away.
“Go, I’ll see you soon.” Arika ascended the stairs to the balcony and watched as the Gods were finishing their war. Jared and Arika had usually done these things together, though this time was different. Jared turned and descended the stairs of the tower, heading for the Great Keep.
-
Jared crossed the rope bridge with caution as he made his way to the Great Keep. Banners of House Hoare were hung on the walls of the towers that Jared walked passed: A golden longboat on a black field. Ever since Jared had been noticed by his father at the age of twelve, his dream was to become a Hoare and leave his bastardy behind. The possibility of his dream coming true had slowly left Jared over the years, giving him a harsh and cruel appearance to those that he did not love. As Jared made his way over the final bridge, leading to the Great Keep, he noticed someone standing in the rain staring out at sea. It was Tanner, his drinking companion and shield brother. He held a bloody bandage over his hand.
“Tanner, you right?” Tanner turned, spotted Jared, and grinned.
“Yeah, was just playing the finger dance with the Goodbrother. Boy does he have some power in that arm of his.” Jared laughed and walked over.
“Show me.” Tanner unwrapped his right hand, the only fingers still intact were his thumb and index.
“Bloody mess, you’d think I’d wrestled a kraken.” The two men laughed.
“No, just an old man with a better swing than you. Guess that’s not hard.” Jared winked and then patted him on the back. He left his one trustful friend to stare out at the sea as he entered the Great Keep.
The Great Keep was huge, capping the whole island with its size. A covered stone walkway connected the Great Keep to the Guest Keep, resting on another island. Jared walked through the Keep’s halls until he reached the Great Hall, the home of the Seastone Chair. Legends told that thousands of years ago, the First Men that claimed the Iron Islands had found the Seastone Chair on the shores of Old Wyk. The chair itself was a work of art, oily black stone carved into the shape of a kraken. Some believed it was House Greyjoy’s inspiration for their coat of arms. In that chair sat King Qhored Hoare, his first born son - Thelred Hoare - stood beside him. Qhored was unable to sit still, simply showing that he would rather be doing something else but his duty as King forced him to be seated. Jared stopped in front of his father and half-brother and knelt. Qhored laughed uncontrollaby. After a long while, he calmed himself.
“There is no need to kneel, boy. Rise.” Qhored had a harsh and hoarse tone to his voice.
“You wanted to see me father?” Qhored nodded.
“Aye, about the Harlaw’s. Some don’t believe my rule to be just, the Harlaw’s being one of the few. They refuse to join our cause and from that we are losing men. I want you to take thirty good men and kill the Harlaw, force the heir to join our cause.” Qhored cracked his neck and jaw, trying to make himself comfortable.
“Why not send Thelred? He is your legitimate son, he’d be more likely to pull this off.” Qhored looked at Thelred, his son hesitated but nodded and left. Qhored waited until the boy was out of ears reach.
“Yes, the boy is my legitimate son and nine times of ten I’d choose him over you. Though this is the one time for you to prove yourself. Thelred is a good boy, a nice boy. His kind die in the Iron Islands, you though. I need you for the job. Can you handle it?” Qhored glared at Jared, who desperately tried to avoid eye contact.
“Aye, I can.” Qhored gave a wolfish grin.
“Good, you may choose whether you wish to take your brother or that boy. What’s his name? Travis? Trent?”
“Tanner.” Jared said interrupting. Qhored smirked.
“That’s the one. You can choose if you wish to take him or your brother, though only one as the boat you’re taking is small. You can not take any, I really don’t care. Just keep in mind you leave within the hour, you’ll be taking the ‘Seahorse’ to Harlaw.” Jared nodded and turned to make his way for the door.
“Jared.” Jared turned and looked at the bearded man who stood from his throne.
“Aye?” Qhored walked to Jared until he was close enough to whisper into his ear, to which he did.
“Do this right, and you’ll be a step closer to getting my name.” Jared pulled himself back, somewhat surprised. His father grinned then retreated to his throne, Jared went over his options.
[Take Tanner] [Take Thelred] [Take no one - spend your time with Arika instead]