Freya
The cold winds beyond the Wall helped her soar through the sky, her feathered wings were a reddish brown. She looked down onto the … moredark pine needles and leaves that lived on the great oaks and ironwood trees, all of this made up the Haunted Forest. She pulled her wings in close and dived down to the treeline, so she was only half a metre above it. An endless plain of dark green and white showed itself to her eyes, her bright yellow eyes. She stretched out her wings and glided in the wind that pushed against her, elevating her higher into the sky. She looked passed the greenery and down to the snow patched ground below it. She looked for miles, spotting small rodents and elk. The occasional snow bear and rare hunting direwolf. Past that she saw the village of the Nightrunners, and beyond that the Hornfoots. What else she saw seemed to be irrelevant, apart for one unusual thing… She flew closer to the location, staying cautious and edg… [view original content]
Prestan
A strong gale pushed against the old stone forts from the east. The wind howled as it coursed its way through the towers and open… more buildings, causing objects to fall or be picked up with the wind. It was in the courtyard, on the elevating platform, that Prestan Blacktyde stood with an iron longsword in his hands. He stared down to the man below him, he was held down by two black brothers, his head moved irritably on a wooden block. Prestan looked at the man shamefully, this had been the second traitor in the past month. How many more executions before it will get into their thick heads? Prestan wondered, growing tired of having to execute men he had once called his brothers. Prestan sighed, clearly irritated and miserable.
“Travis Codd, son of Lord Marak Codd. Here in sights of the gods, and brothers of the Watch, I sentence you to die. If you have any final words, you may speak them now.” The big man looked up to Prestan, then d… [view original content]
Haha, I'm glad she's what you expected. She was one of the most delightful reads out of your submits (all of yours are, but I instantly attached with this one). So I really enjoy writing about her
As for this choice... Well we know from Kaiden's PoV that Odin's 'original' intentions were to kill the deserter: Toregg. Though Kaiden lost all confidence in that when he watched Odin betray the Watch and join the Nightrunners. So we are looking at a man with secret ambitions. We must remember that he had a lot of issues back at the Watch, concerning himself with nightmares that haunted him. He is very much aware of what is coming against the Wall, he claims he has even seen it. This is what haunts him in his sleep. Anyway, I won't spoil anymore :P
[Find Odin]
Freya I loved that part and she was just as I imagined her while writing. And I am very excited for future parts of her. I'm… more curious about this voice she heard. I guess that might have been the Stranger, although it is just an assumption.
As for this choice, I think finding Odin sounds more exciting. While I loved the interaction between Freya and Movar, I think folloing Odin could be a bit more interesting. Also, I am curious. I just hope he won't be dangerous for her
The cold winds beyond the Wall helped her soar through the sky,
Don't know if that was intentional, but nice easter egg ;D
Anyway, [Find Odin] sounds more interesting
I really like your rationale behind this, and me being bias, I would have chosen the same options. I think I almost layed them out too perfectly . Anyway, I think the one good thing about the Bleeding War is it is Non Canon, so you can't really go spoil yourself on awoiaf to see what happens. So literally, you making the choice to have the Umbers help the Starks rather than the Watch could be a turning tide for the war. Or the Umbers could have responded to Jorge when he sent out ravens to Eastwatch, Last Hearth and the Nightfort.
As for the Haunted Forest. Yes, The Stranger will be returning shortly. Can't remember if it was the next part or not. XD
Choice 1: [Send remaining men to Skane]
Choice 2: [Request aid from Greenguard]
Those choices are definitely worth justification. First on… moree: Night's Watch needs supplies, and Skagos is the only place where they can have supplies provided. Also, we can't afford losing Hardhome, so i hope there will be choice where we can send people from Skane to Hardhome (as it's not that far away). Second - of course, Umbers would be better choice, but I looked on it from different perspective: there's a tense situation between Starks and Boltons now, so Starks will need they bannermen i suppose. When we ask them, we are taking away their powerful ally. I think most of us want Starks to win that battle, so requesting Greenguard may not be the best option for the Watch, but it'll be definitely better for the Kingdom. Okay, that's all, but on the other hand - I really can't wait for the Haunted Forest part - firstly, because there's my character here (he's o… [view original content]
Freya
The cold winds beyond the Wall helped her soar through the sky, her feathered wings were a reddish brown. She looked down onto the … moredark pine needles and leaves that lived on the great oaks and ironwood trees, all of this made up the Haunted Forest. She pulled her wings in close and dived down to the treeline, so she was only half a metre above it. An endless plain of dark green and white showed itself to her eyes, her bright yellow eyes. She stretched out her wings and glided in the wind that pushed against her, elevating her higher into the sky. She looked passed the greenery and down to the snow patched ground below it. She looked for miles, spotting small rodents and elk. The occasional snow bear and rare hunting direwolf. Past that she saw the village of the Nightrunners, and beyond that the Hornfoots. What else she saw seemed to be irrelevant, apart for one unusual thing… She flew closer to the location, staying cautious and edg… [view original content]
Yeah, I'm fine, aside from little stress with my studying. It's also such a dark time of the year here
Anyway, I haven't been that much on the forums in general lately, mostly because there was so much going on during the holidays with family and friends... and after that it has been like a big hangover (not literally but still ). I'm back now though!
It was! I was hoping to hint it to find out if you were still alive! XD
It's been a while since I've seen any activity my friend Though I haven't been monitoring Forum's so that might have been why XD
Hope all is going well with you?
Yeah, I'm fine, aside from little stress with my studying. It's also such a dark time of the year here
Anyway, I haven't been that much … moreon the forums in general lately, mostly because there was so much going on during the holidays with family and friends... and after that it has been like a big hangover (not literally but still ). I'm back now though!
What I mean is simply that the sun rises somewhere around 9-10 am and sets 3 pm And then there are the effing cloudy days so you don't see the sun at all. Sucks to be in the North
What I mean is simply that the sun rises somewhere around 9-10 am and sets 3 pm And then there are the effing cloudy days so you don't see the sun at all. Sucks to be in the North
Prestan
A strong gale pushed against the old stone forts from the east. The wind howled as it coursed its way through the towers and open… more buildings, causing objects to fall or be picked up with the wind. It was in the courtyard, on the elevating platform, that Prestan Blacktyde stood with an iron longsword in his hands. He stared down to the man below him, he was held down by two black brothers, his head moved irritably on a wooden block. Prestan looked at the man shamefully, this had been the second traitor in the past month. How many more executions before it will get into their thick heads? Prestan wondered, growing tired of having to execute men he had once called his brothers. Prestan sighed, clearly irritated and miserable.
“Travis Codd, son of Lord Marak Codd. Here in sights of the gods, and brothers of the Watch, I sentence you to die. If you have any final words, you may speak them now.” The big man looked up to Prestan, then d… [view original content]
The Nightfort stood old but not obsolete. The cold dark stone was well maintained, though still haunting. Todd stared at the large castle from a distance, his legs aching from being on horseback so long. The Nightfort was built on a hill that met the Wall. A large stone stairway led up to the main gate to the Nightfort, then more stairs which led into the unwalled castle. That had been the way of the Night’s Watch, there were to be no walls that surrounded the keeps on the off chance that the entire Watch broke their oaths and took the Wall. According to the legends it had happened once before, when the Night’s King had taken the Wall for himself and the Watch for his personal slaves. Though those were only stories. Todd turned and looked at the exhausted brothers beside him, they had rode all day from Castle Black. Jullon sat on his garon, his hands tightened around the reins, with his sullen expression on his face. Todd had managed to get little from Jullon in the past week, a few small chats but nothing big. He had talked to First Builder Errok about Jullon’s behavior, though the greying man simply shook his head. ‘That’s not my business to say. If he wants you to know then he will tell you.’ Todd hadn’t spoken to him since, he couldn’t find a way to do so. Beside Jullon was the honorable ranger Ser Olyvar Reyne, and next to him were Frog and Hawkins. First Ranger Kegan had extended three of his rangers to escort their group back to the Nightfort, Ser Olyvar had taken leadership.
Ser Olyvar was a young man, cocky with his status but respected as a swordsman and tactician. He is honorable to his leaders and elders, but mere stewards and builder need to more to gain his trust and friendship. His hair was a short curly red, his face was cleanly shaved. He had an athletic build, tall and slim. His two companions, Hawkins and Frog, were less known. Frog was a quiet man, in his mid thirties, who was born in the Fingers. He had a bald head, flat face and narrow eyes - a gaunt appearance - which earned him the name of Frog. Hawkins however was a handsome young man in his prime, his hair was a wavy light brown. He wore his beard clean, clearly being one of the more importances of his life on the Watch. He was from the Vale, and clearly living there he had picked up a trick or two in the ways of archery.
Todd sighed, the ride had been long and hard, there had been no one to talk to either. Lartel had been called with the rest of the newly editioned rangers to follow the Lord Commander into battle against the Wildlings. Todd shivered to think of Lartel’s fate. I wonder if he is even still alive. Perhaps I’ll never know. Todd shook the thought from his head, thinking of other thoughts - thoughts more pleasant. They were quickly interrupted when the gallant black knight trotted up to Todd’s horse. Todd looked at the man’s curly red hair, as red as a ruby. The knight looked at him with a stern expression, he seemed as tired as the rest of the men slowly riding along - though he kept a tall and lean appearance.
“You, boy. Ride with all haste to the Nightfort and give this letter to the maester.” Todd looked down to the extended hand with the rolled paper. He looked back to the knight with a puzzled look, then quickly realised. They could not send a raven because of the storm. Todd nodded.
“Yes ser.” Todd took the note and placed it into his saddle bag.
Jabbing the garon in the ribs with his foot, he kicked the horse into a gallop heading straight for the main gate of the Nightfort.
-
Todd nearly fell off his garon when he dismounted in the courtyard. One brother came to his aid, others sniggered and the rest simply ignored him. Todd felt his legs turn to jelly as he set foot on solid land, if it were not for the man who had come to his aid when he did then he would have surely fallen. Todd recognised who the young skinny man was - Liam, the Lord Commander’s personal steward. He had probably been without a job since they had been gone. Todd used the man to steady his balance, though his legs were of little use to him.
“I need to get to the Maester’s Tower.” Liam silently nodded, pulling Todd’s arm over his shoulder and guiding him towards the tower.
The young man gently guided Todd up the stone stairs of the Maester’s Tower, each step made Todd feel unsure about his balance. He was fortunate that he could rely on his silent brother, who quietly helped him along the way. After a long ascendance, Liam balanced Todd against the cool rounded stone wall of the tower. Todd nodded in thanks, and Liam took his part and left. Todd looked down to his his legs, they were shaking and wobbling like jelly. No more long rides for me. Todd thought, shredding the sheer idea of it. He put some weight into his legs and managed to walk to the door of the Maester’s quarters, each step agonising. He knocked on the door three times, then waited patiently. Almost immediately, the door opened and there stood Felix. His eyes widened when he recognised it was Todd.
“Todd! Seven Hells, get inside.” He said, sounding shocked and almost fearful.
Todd walked in with his shaking legs, one step at a time, as quickly as was comfortable. Felix quickly shut the door and escorted Todd to the soft leather cushioned chair opposite of Maester Endrew’s. The Maester’s chair was vacant. Todd looked up at Felix with questioning eyes.
“Where is the Maester?” Felix shook his head and sat down in Endrew’s chair.
“Todd, where have you been? Where are the others? There were rumors that you and the other new recruits and deserted beyond the Wall. It would have made sense, like, I don’t think many houses worship the Old Gods in the Riverlands.” Felix was right on that matter, he did not truly worship the Old Gods, though it seemed that no gods had ever answered him.
“We had no intentions of deserting Felix, we were attacked. Ambushed by wildlings at the weirwood. The Lord Commander took all the rangers to pursue them in battle, First Builder Errok took the rest of us back to Castle Black when we heard the sounds of metal clashing.” The sixteen year old looked at Todd with eyes full of wonder and awe. Todd shook his head slowly.
“First Builder Errok and the rest of the brothers are only a half hour ride from here. I was sent by Ser Olyvar Reyne to give a message to the Maester, is he feeding the ravens?” Felix shook his head and shrugged.
“Leave it to the morning Todd. So what else happened? Did you see the wildlings? Did they look hideous like the stories say?” Todd frustratingly rolled his eyes and stood up, so he appeared taller than Felix.
“Felix. Where is the Maester?” He asked with a serious tone, a hint of anger was mixed in it as well. Felix sighed, his expression saddened.
“He’s upstairs.” Todd nodded and proceeded to the spiral wooden staircase, but was held back by Felix’s arm. “Todd, he is with his scribe.” Todd turned, raising an eyebrow when he looked at Felix.
“I am his scribe…” Felix frowned and stood up.
“Not anymore. You see, we thought you were dead… Or worse. The Maester took a new scribe with the recent recruits.” Todd’s heart sunk, he knew he had not yet started his job but he also knew that his job was more fortunate than most other stewards got. He nodded, keeping a solemn expression.
“I must see the Maester regardless.” Todd turned and slowly started ascending the wooden steps, to the top of the tower.
The top floor consisted of two stories, and was the largest part of the tower. The Maester had three stories which belonged to him. The bottom floor was for guests who desired counsel or just to talk in their time of need. The second floor, where Todd stood now, was dedicated to the kitchen, bedrooms and pens for the ravens. For the most part, it smelt of bird manure. The top floor, only a long wooden platform which overlooked the second floor, housed the desk for the scribe. It was positioned next to the an opening window which a scribe could easily receive and send ravens at his or her own will. That was to be Todd’s job, though now another young boy sat behind that desk with the Maester looming over him. Todd saw as he climbed the steps to the top floor. He stopped at the top, waiting for the Maester to notice him, and when he did his expression was emotionless.
“Come forth, Todd Rivers.” He said with an old croaky voice. His one eye searched Todd all over, as if trying to recognise his physical form. He turned to his new scribe. “You may take the rest of the day off, Dann Flint.” The boy nodded, standing with his hands clasped.
Todd felt his brow begin to sweat, his cheeks begin to blush, as he looked at this Dann Flint. He was not sure why, but there was something different about him. He stared with wonder, observing the boy’s features. He seemed Todd’s age, maybe a little younger. He wore a black hat over his head, covering all of his hair - if he had any. What bothered Todd were his eyes, those beautiful light brown eyes. Todd shook out the thought, feeling a chill of homophobia crawl over him.
“As you wish, Maester Endrew.” Dann said, his voice was high pitched and he almost sounded like a girl.
Todd watched as his replacement strided away, descending down the stairs and into the room of the scribe. He sighed and turned to the Maester, who had taken a seat in the scribe’s chair.
“Come closer Todd, we must talk.” Todd nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat cheated and disappointed.
“You’re not surprised to see me, Maester?” The old man chuckled, turning his attention out of the window.
“I have the highest tower in the Nightfort, I can see ravens approaching and rangers riding from miles away. Your small garrison was a large black spot on a frozen greenland.” Todd nodded, remaining silent. The Maester sighed. “I’m sorry Todd, if I had known of your status I would have waited. We received no ravens, no riders, no news whatsoever. And with this recent storm it’s been difficult to just rely on Felix to get things done around here.” The Maester looked at Todd with his one good eye, looking for a response.
“I understand Maester, there was no way you could have known.” The Maester gently and graciously smiled.
“Thank you for understanding, Todd. I wish things could have been different. Now, I need to know, what has happened of the Lord Commander? I did not see him in the party you rode with, though my eyes are not so good anymore.” Todd frowned, feeling regret for abandoning Lartel once again.
“The Lord Commander and the newly made rangers met a band of wildlings head on in battle. I do not know if he still lives. Or if any of them do.” The thought made Todd shiver, regret flushed through him and stabbed him like a frozen dagger. The Maester nodded with a stern expression on his face.
“Very well. Is there any other news you have?” Todd quickly remember the letter that Ser Olyvar had given him. He pulled it out and gave it to the Maester. “Hmm? What is this?” He took the letter and opened it.
“Ser Olyvar Reyne handed it to me, gave me strict directions to get it to you immediately.” The Maester rolled his eye.
“Damn knights.” He muttered, somewhat humourously.
After a very long time of reading the letter, then rereading the letter, he rolled it up and slipped it into his sleeve. He looked to Todd.
“I will attend to that later. I must be there to meet the First Builder when he arrives with the rest of the brothers. Then I must look into finding you a new position, I have something in mind but it may take a while. For the meantime, you may either accompany me down to the yard, or you can help Dann with the work that needs to be done around here.” Todd nodded.
“What of Felix?” The Maester shrugged.
“He will go where you will not. Quickly now, we’d best not be late if you’re coming along.”
[Accompany the Maester] [Help Dann Flint around the Tower]
Hey guys, sorry for the seriously long wait. I have had family come down to visit for the past week and a half, and have been flat out busy with that. This part was also a pain to write with the little motivation I had, but I got it done. I'll try and bring out the next part in the next few days.
Todd
The Nightfort stood old but not obsolete. The cold dark stone was well maintained, though still haunting. Todd stared at the large c… moreastle from a distance, his legs aching from being on horseback so long. The Nightfort was built on a hill that met the Wall. A large stone stairway led up to the main gate to the Nightfort, then more stairs which led into the unwalled castle. That had been the way of the Night’s Watch, there were to be no walls that surrounded the keeps on the off chance that the entire Watch broke their oaths and took the Wall. According to the legends it had happened once before, when the Night’s King had taken the Wall for himself and the Watch for his personal slaves. Though those were only stories. Todd turned and looked at the exhausted brothers beside him, they had rode all day from Castle Black. Jullon sat on his garon, his hands tightened around the reins, with his sullen expression on his face. Todd had managed … [view original content]
Todd
The Nightfort stood old but not obsolete. The cold dark stone was well maintained, though still haunting. Todd stared at the large c… moreastle from a distance, his legs aching from being on horseback so long. The Nightfort was built on a hill that met the Wall. A large stone stairway led up to the main gate to the Nightfort, then more stairs which led into the unwalled castle. That had been the way of the Night’s Watch, there were to be no walls that surrounded the keeps on the off chance that the entire Watch broke their oaths and took the Wall. According to the legends it had happened once before, when the Night’s King had taken the Wall for himself and the Watch for his personal slaves. Though those were only stories. Todd turned and looked at the exhausted brothers beside him, they had rode all day from Castle Black. Jullon sat on his garon, his hands tightened around the reins, with his sullen expression on his face. Todd had managed … [view original content]
Todd
The Nightfort stood old but not obsolete. The cold dark stone was well maintained, though still haunting. Todd stared at the large c… moreastle from a distance, his legs aching from being on horseback so long. The Nightfort was built on a hill that met the Wall. A large stone stairway led up to the main gate to the Nightfort, then more stairs which led into the unwalled castle. That had been the way of the Night’s Watch, there were to be no walls that surrounded the keeps on the off chance that the entire Watch broke their oaths and took the Wall. According to the legends it had happened once before, when the Night’s King had taken the Wall for himself and the Watch for his personal slaves. Though those were only stories. Todd turned and looked at the exhausted brothers beside him, they had rode all day from Castle Black. Jullon sat on his garon, his hands tightened around the reins, with his sullen expression on his face. Todd had managed … [view original content]
Todd
The Nightfort stood old but not obsolete. The cold dark stone was well maintained, though still haunting. Todd stared at the large c… moreastle from a distance, his legs aching from being on horseback so long. The Nightfort was built on a hill that met the Wall. A large stone stairway led up to the main gate to the Nightfort, then more stairs which led into the unwalled castle. That had been the way of the Night’s Watch, there were to be no walls that surrounded the keeps on the off chance that the entire Watch broke their oaths and took the Wall. According to the legends it had happened once before, when the Night’s King had taken the Wall for himself and the Watch for his personal slaves. Though those were only stories. Todd turned and looked at the exhausted brothers beside him, they had rode all day from Castle Black. Jullon sat on his garon, his hands tightened around the reins, with his sullen expression on his face. Todd had managed … [view original content]
Todd
The Nightfort stood old but not obsolete. The cold dark stone was well maintained, though still haunting. Todd stared at the large c… moreastle from a distance, his legs aching from being on horseback so long. The Nightfort was built on a hill that met the Wall. A large stone stairway led up to the main gate to the Nightfort, then more stairs which led into the unwalled castle. That had been the way of the Night’s Watch, there were to be no walls that surrounded the keeps on the off chance that the entire Watch broke their oaths and took the Wall. According to the legends it had happened once before, when the Night’s King had taken the Wall for himself and the Watch for his personal slaves. Though those were only stories. Todd turned and looked at the exhausted brothers beside him, they had rode all day from Castle Black. Jullon sat on his garon, his hands tightened around the reins, with his sullen expression on his face. Todd had managed … [view original content]
Vote closed! Todd will choose to help Dann Flint around the Maester's Tower.
In my opinion, this might not have been the best decision yet still the one I would have chosen. As the Maester will soon be meeting with 'someone' to get Todd a new position, it wont look good that he isn't accompanying him, but it will also show that Todd is a hard worker. So yes and no for a good decision here. Anyway, the good news is we get to take a look at a new character (which would not have been focussed on as much if not for this choice).
Next part goes to Tristifer Oldstark, who is visiting his family at Ol'Tower.
Vote closed! Todd will choose to help Dann Flint around the Maester's Tower.
In my opinion, this might not have been the best decision ye… moret still the one I would have chosen. As the Maester will soon be meeting with 'someone' to get Todd a new position, it wont look good that he isn't accompanying him, but it will also show that Todd is a hard worker. So yes and no for a good decision here. Anyway, the good news is we get to take a look at a new character (which would not have been focussed on as much if not for this choice).
Next part goes to Tristifer Oldstark, who is visiting his family at Ol'Tower.
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. His breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett - stood over him with a look of anger in his eye. Before anything else could happen, the soundless room filled with a roar of anger.
“Garrett! Get the bloody hell off of him, have I not taught you anything these twenty years?” Garrett turned his attention to the booming voice character, who could only have been their father.
“Father, he walked in with a weapon. He could have been trying to kill you for all we know!” Before Garrett could continue, he was interrupted.
“Seven hells boy, get out before I get out of this bed and throw you out.” Tristifer watched his brother’s face redden, his hesitation, before he released Tristifer and stormed out of the room and descended the long steps down the spire.
Tristifer slowly got up, feeling the adrenaline flowing through his veins. If it were not for his family being in this room, he would have likely brawled with his brother. The two had never gotten along, not even when they were children. The first three children of the family had been Garrett, Tristifer and Rechard. Rechard had always been witty, but also shady and never did anything unless it was to benefit himself. Tristifer had always been noble and just, being the favored by their father. As for Garrett, he was the eldest and was trained to be the future Lord of Ol’Tower, Warden of the Stony Shore and Protector of the West Coast. Though Garrett knew he was not favored, treated like a second born because his father had wished Tristifer to have been his heir. This had made him grow bitter and rash, despite him already being the set heir.
Tristifer eyed the rest of his family in the room. His father, Garn, lay in a large bed. His mother, Lylla, sat by his side with her hands clasped. And his sisters, Allise and Olyvia, stood opposite of where Tristifer was now.
“Go on girls, let me speak with my son in private.” Garn quietly said, then turning to his wife. “You too.” Tristifer felt the unease and worry as the women walked passed him, closing the door behind them. Tristifer sighed and walked to his father’s side.
“Father… I’m so sorry, I did not mean to start this commotion, it’s just-” Garn held up his hand, as if to stop Tristifer from speaking.
“It happens. I am glad you were able to make it, I presume the Wall is treating you well?” Tristifer could see that this was all his father’s pep talk, in an attempt to lighten the already dull mood. Tristifer thought to humour his father, and not battle to his point.
“All is well at the Wall. I am the Master-at-arms at the Nightfort, though give it a few more years and I may try to run for Command on one of the castles when one of the old men there passes away.” Tristifer heard the same old chuckle from his father, the one he had not heard in many years.
He looked at his father with a more serious expression now, observing how much his features had changed. Dark grey bags lived under his eyes, making it clear he had not been sleeping well. His head was once bald, yet now white hair was starting to grow. His beard was white with gray stands, and curly like those of House Oldstark. The were formidable features that Tristifer had remembered of his father, though there were obvious new features that had come with his illness. His food intake had been diminishing, and as a consequence the one strong and athletic built man was now skinny and weak. His dark brown eyes were still the same, a mirror image of his own.
“Father, you’re truly… Dying.” The man frowned, he was only in his sixties and it was clear it bothered him.
“If it weren’t so, I’m sure we wouldn’t have seen eachother for a great many years. Enough of this depressive talk, I am fortunate that you were able to make it here so I could do it myself.” Tristifer felt suspicious and also curious of what his father was talking about.
“What do you mean father?” Garn smiled and rolled onto his left side, picking up something from the floor.
“My will to you.” He rolled back over, revealing Wolfsbane. The ancient heritage sword had lived in the family for over five generations.
The sword’s pommel was a wolf’s tale, and the opening to the blade itself was a wolf’s head - as if the blade were coming out of the wolf’s mouth. The hilt itself was a dark grey, verging black, and the wolf head had eyes made of sapphires. The blade was was a mix of valyrian steel and another unknown material, which gave the steel a blue tint and sometimes a glow. Garn handed the sword to Tristifer.
“Father, I cannot accept this… This is meant for the Lord of Ol’Tower. Not a mere brother of the Night’s Watch.” Garn shook his head and made Tristifer take the sword.
“You are my son, and more worthy of the blade than my infuriated heir. When the time is right, when he has matured greater than yourself, you will give him Wolfsbane. Until then, I name you the protector of Wolfsbane, the sword who slayed the iron kings and protects the North from raiders.” Tristifer held the well-balanced weapon in his hand.
“Thank you father… I don’t know how I can ever-” The door swung open, interrupting Tristifer’s sentence, and there stood his brother Rechard.
“Father, my apologies for the interruption. I must speak with Tristifer, it is of some importance.” Garn stared at Rechard, then looked to Tristifer.
“Goodbye, my son.” The dying man whispered, and without a train of thought, Tristifer found himself leaving the room - not losing eye contact with his father until the doors were shut.
Rechard stood beside Tristifer in his dark green tunic with crescent moons patterned all over it. His expression seemed glump at first, though was quickly hidden behind those curiously odd eyes. His eyes moved their attention to their father’s sword, then back to Tristifer. He clasped his hands and sighed.
“Please, accompany me to my office.” Tristifer looked at his younger brother, a puzzled expression on his face.
“What for? Why do you pull me from my father’s death bed?” Tristifer observed the bald man turn and raise a suspicious eyebrow at him. His brown mustache was thick and dark.
“So that we may speak where we may not be heard. I can assure you, it will be far easier to talk this through with me then it will be with Garrett.” Rechard said as he began descending the spiral stairwell. Tristifer shook his head, frustrated and confused.
“Talk to you about what? What is this all about Rechard?” Tristifer’s tone was impatient and stressed, growing mildly worried. He took one last look at the closed doors, then followed his brother down the stairs.
-
Rechard’s office was large and secluded, lying on the far edge of Ol’Tower’s main keep. The view overlooked the Sunset Sea, the Bay of Ice hidden behind Sea Dragon Point, and far north one with good eyes could see the shining white Frozen Shores. Rechard sat in his desk, the decree that Tristifer had given him lay before him. He picked it up, eying each word in the letter as if he were searching for some answer. Dissatisfied with his results, he threw the paper back onto his desk.
“Well Tristifer, I must say I’m somewhat impressed. To desert the Night’s Watch, hand me your own death warrant. All of this just to see our father? What in the Seven were you thinking?” Tristifer stared at him with confusion, which quickly turned to anger.
“You dare claim me as a deserter? I had the Lord Commander write me a pardon from the Wall to visit my family!” Tristifer could feel the sweat running down his hands and starting to drip from his fingertips. Rechard shook his head and frowned.
“The letter you gave me says otherwise. Here, read it for yourself.” He said, picking up the roll of paper and passing it to Tristifer. Tristifer quickly snatched it from his brother and unrolled the paper, reading the contents laid before him.
To the Noble Houses of the North
The Master-at-Arms at the Nightfort, Tristifer Oldstark, has recently abandoned our brotherhood and broken his vows by doing so. There is no need for me to explain the punishment, as all men of the North know the consequences to treason. Oldstark took the lives of one of his brothers, First Ranger Niclas Stone, when he was fleeing the Wall. I would warn you now that this trained killer is now lurking somewhere in the North, and should be hunted down and executed on sight.
Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch
Rodrik Flint.
Tristifer slowly scrunched up the paper, his eyes not moving from the ground. His face was steaming with anger, he should have checked the letter when he had the chance. That backstabbing, auroch herding, piece of shit! Tristifer dropped the paper.
“That lying fucker! I- I.” Tristifer found himself lost for words, the Lord Commander had stripped him of his honour and pride in four sentences. Rechard sighed and stood from his cushioned chair.
“Then I have no reason to doubt that you have been framed.” Rechard said with a bored tone in his voice. Tristifer ignored it, ready to destroy the furniture in his brother’s office. He calmed himself, looking for some diplomatic solutions.
“I must ride for Winterfell at once, inform King Benjen of the truth.” Rechard shook his head.
“Brother, do not be so naive to think this is the only letter. I would wager that he has already sent ravens to Winterfell and the Last Hearth, and they are no doubt searching for you. Which is why it is not safe to have you here.” Tristifer felt the anger boil inside him, he clenched the sheathed Wolfsbane.
“Then I will get my revenge, even if it does kill me.” Rechard rolled his eyes, seemingly doubting Tristifer’s new ambitions.
“You have a thousand men to go through in the Nightfort before you may even stand a chance to kill the Lord Commander, and then you will certainly be executed for treason and murder. Both your plans are a good way to get you killed and to shame your family at the same time. You will not stay here, or else the North will name us an enemy and thwart us by ten to one.” Tristifer shook his head in disbelief, was this really happening?
“So what, you’re going to exile me? Send me off in a box of cargo to Essos?” Rechard allowed himself to laugh, but shook his head.
“No, your best option is to board our trading vessel down to Oldtown. We hold strong relations with the Hightowers, and our younger brother Desmond is training as a Maester. You can take refuge there until I can find a way to fix this, but you need to leave today. Gods know that if you stay here any longer, Garrett will kill you before any other Northmen will even get a glimpse of you.” Tristifer felt his heart sink, his life might as well have been over.
“And when Garrett becomes Lord? He will search all the seas to find me Rechard.” His brother frowned.
“You’re not the only one in danger, Tristifer. Our sister, Allise, refuses to marry. She wishes for a life of adventure, where she can put her talents of fighting into action. If she stays then Garrett will force her into relations likely with the Whitehill boy, unless I can persuade him otherwise - but you know how stubborn he is. As for Jack, Garrett despises him and will just as easily banish him from Ol’Tower as he will take your life in the holy grounds. I’m not asking for you to take both, if so then it would be considered suspicious. Though if you were to take either Jack or Allise, Garrett would just consider them as a runaway and likely ignore it. The decision is yours, just know that you have a dangerous path ahead, and you certainly will need help.”
[Take Jack Snow with you to Oldtown] [Take Allise Oldstark with you to Oldtown]
Tristifer
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. Hi… mores breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett … [view original content]
Tristifer
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. Hi… mores breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett … [view original content]
That is actually a hard choice. I'd like to take both, since both seem to be in some sort of danger if they stay at Ol'Tower, but alas, I'm afraid I have to make a choice. To make things easier for me, I'm just going with the majority here, also since a forced marriage, especially to a Whitehill is something I don't wish for anyone.
Tristifer
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. Hi… mores breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett … [view original content]
Tristifer
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. Hi… mores breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett … [view original content]
Well, the vote was pretty clear so it is time to put it to a close. Tristifer will choose to take his little sister, Allise Oldstark, instead of his bastard brother Jack to Oldtown.
Personally, I would have chosen Jack Snow in this position. Only because I know there is more story for him as a bastard of a growing noble house in the North, but I also saw values in taking Allise to Oldtown as well. The next part might take a while, as I'm now back in college and we have a three day camp starting as of tomorrow so it may be a few days till I post something - and then I need to finish editing the plans to the next part.
I'm not exactly sure which PoV is going to be next, I'm feeling like I might move away from the North for the next one and focus on one of two of my new characters down south. Anyway, hope you guys are well (and hope you are recovering @WildlingKing), I look forward to catching up with you in the next week!
Tristifer
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. Hi… mores breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett … [view original content]
Tristifer
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. Hi… mores breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett … [view original content]
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it was no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done little to interrupt. What can they do? The Skanish outnumber them ten to one. A sudden loud booming voice filled the room, Jorge looked up to see the fuss. It was Commander Warrek.
“Citizens, we are doing the best we can to assure that Skane is safe from anymore attacks. I have received a raven from Commander Prestan Blacktyde, informing us that he is sending more men to our aid. I believe the best thing we can do now is remain calm and do our best to help each other in need.” The Commander’s skin was pale, for the exception of dark bags under his eyes, and it looked as if he had recovered little since Jorge’s last encounter with him.
“What are we meant to eat? The Hub has been burnt down and all our supplies with it! Did you tell the Commander that?!” A farmer yelled in anger, others began to back him up.
“Aye, how are we meant to help each other if we can’t even protect ourselves from bloody Skaggs! What bloody good are you black brothers!” A giant uproar filled the room with curses and distress. Jorge noticed Ser Harold quickly approaching.
“Jorge, thank the Seven you and your family are alive. Are you injured?” Jorge shook his head. “Good, we must speak. Somewhere quieter.” Jorge looked at the night with curiosity, then to his family. Tanya looked at him with approval.
Jorge gently stood himself up, avoiding to trigger any unwanted aches in his legs. Ser Harold started for the main door, Jorge followed at a fast pace.
The air outside the hall was cool, flakes of snow fell onto the ground and made small white piles. It was a beauty that shined through all the disgust that the Skanish had just suffered. Ser Harold led Jorge into a small logging shack. The inside smelt of freshly cut wood, the floor was mostly hay and sawdust. The black knight closed the doors behind them and beckoned for Jorge to take a seat on a sawed log. Ser Harold remained standing.
“I brought you here because there is no doubt that you want answers. Commander Warrek’s speech of hope, well yes it is true…” Jorge raised an eyebrow.
“But what?” Ser Harold sighed, disappointed and seemingly miserable.
“But, Warrek has received commands to drop our post now that we know more men are to arrive. We leave sunrise tomorrow.” Jorge could not tell if he was more angry than surprised, he stood up and kicked the log over.
“You are leaving us? To fend for ourselves until more fucking black brothers come to die?” Ser Harold sadly nodded.
“I’m sorry Jorge, orders are orders. We are only pulling some men aside, like yourself, to offer you a chance off of Skane. We can take you and your family off of Skane, give them a home at Darkhold.” Jorge turned to Harold, fury riddled through his expression.
“Them?” The knight sighed.
“In order for this to happen, you must join the Night’s Watch. Now before you tear down this shack just hear me out. Your family will be living under protection of House Black, a house which funds the Watch and hence holds close ties. Rangers, stewards and builders all have the chance to serve there. No matter what you became, I could organise for you to be stationed at Darkhold, and you could still see your family.” Jorge shook his head frustratedly.
“Yet never be able to touch my wife again, father my children. I would only be a ghost to them.” Ser Harold frowned.
“And you may all be corpses by the time reinforcements alive. Jorge I understand this decision should not be made lightly, but this is a matter between life and death. The Night’s Watch is still a great honour, would you risk your family’s life for your opinion on us? And your son, Kaiden, serves as an honorable brother. He is a ranger you know.” Jorge shook his head irritably.
“My son is a disappointment to me… I must speak to my family about your offer.” Ser Harold nodded, unlocking the wooden door that led outside.
“Consider our offer carefully.” Jorge nodded hesitantly, then exited the shack and headed to the hall.
-
When Jorge had delivered the news to his family, Kyra had been the first to storm off. Croll had quickly chased after her with teary eyes, and Tanya had instantly disagreed.
“You can’t join them Jorge. You don’t belong there, and the Night’s Watch can’t be trusted to live up to its promises.” Jorge shook his head.
“We would be safer there, no Skaggs or anything to bother us.” Tanya’s face filled with anger.
“What about wildling attacks Jorge?” Jorge raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Wildling attacks? Honey there is a bloody wall to keep them out.” Tanya shook her head angrily.
“Are you that naive to think that a bloody wall of ice will stop the freefolk from passing south to raid the lands?” Jorge raised an eyebrow, this kind of talk from his wife was something he had never heard before. “My answer is no Jorge, I won’t tolerate you joining the Watch. I won’t lose you.” Jorge frowned sadly.
“Then what else can we do? If we stay here we run the risk of more attacks. As much as I would love to fight back for what is ares, we have children to protect.” Tanya remained silent for a while, though that glint in her eyes meant she had an idea.
“What if you tell Ser Harold you wish to join, we cross the Narrow Sea, then escape before they take you away?” Jorge was taken back by the thought.
“You would have me throw away my honour? Besides that, how could we manage something like this? The boat will take us to Eastwatch, then from there they take you and the kids to Darkhold, and me to the Nightfort.” Tanya gave a weak smile.
“By rights, those who volunteer to join the Watch can pull out before taking their vows. Unless you have committed some sort of crime, you are a free man. And they cannot stop us from leaving if we wish.” Jorge thought on this, it was a good idea. Though the thought of cheating out the one man who had tried to save him from all this misery was simply dishonorable.
“Okay, but go where?” Tanya looked at Jorge with those same eyes she had when they had talked before the burning of the Hub.
“To Ol’Tower. To see Lord Garn Oldstark, your cousin. I have no doubt that he would take us in.” Jorge sighed and let all the ideas soak into his mind, he knew that he wanted to stay in Skane. Perhaps they could hold a strong enough defense until more men arrived.
[Accept Harold’s offer - Join the Night’s Watch] [Follow Tanya’s plan - Don’t join the Watch and head to Ol’Tower] [Refuse both and stay at Skane]
Jorge
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it … morewas no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done … [view original content]
Jorge
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it … morewas no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done … [view original content]
Jorge
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it … morewas no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done … [view original content]
Jorge
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it … morewas no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done … [view original content]
Jorge
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it … morewas no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done … [view original content]
[Follow Tanya's plan - Don't join the Watch and head to Ol'Tower]
This sounds like the best and the most interesting option. At the same time it's risky though - the Watch is powerful in this timeline and I could see them somehow framing Jorge as criminal and that way not free to leave.
Jorge
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it … morewas no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done … [view original content]
Okay, vote closed. Jorge will decide to follow Tanya's plan and not join the Watch. Ultimately this will lead for him and his family heading to Ol'Tower.
Even for me this was a hard choice, and honestly I would have chosen for them to stay at Skane just so I could have dived deeper into the story there. I guess there is possibility for me to go back there. That would have been easier to focus if he had joined the NW or simply stayed there but ah well. Anyway, I personally feel this choice was not the best and I will tell you why XD
Garn Oldstark honestly cares for all his family, through bastard relation or not. He has raised a bastard, offered for family that were sons and daughters of bastards to reside in Ol'Tower and so forth. Yet the issue is, Garn is on his final legs - and it is not the all noble Tristifer Oldstark who is succeeding him, but instead the jealous and aggravated Garrett Oldstark. Now Garrett hates bastards, and he is the reason that Jack Snow is in so much danger and why his family actually booted him out of the main keep. So to have lower born family coming to seek aid when such a bad lord is being raised... Well, I guess we will see what happens. Anyway, next part goes to The Stranger, and comes out now.
The cursed entity that resided in First Ranger Niclas’ body rested his back against the smooth round rocks on the edge of the Milkwater. The Stranger held Frostbite, First Ranger Niclas’ sword, in his hands - running the sharpened edge over his frozen fingers, leaving deep cuts down to the bone. He sat and did this as he waited for his new companions to arise. The Ice River folk had been dead for a few days now, and The Stranger was beginning to doubt the Great Other’s promise to resurrect the dead. Carley Winter, the stubborn Ice River woman who refused The Stranger, was the only corpse out of the five with blue eyes.
“Perhaps I did not follow the order correctly. Oh well, I’m no White Walker but I am positive that these minions will rise soon enough.” The Stranger smirked, to no one in particular.
The Stranger raised an eyebrow when he felt a strange feeling touch him, almost an essence or a spirit. He stood, the blade of the First Ranger in his hand, and looked around for this strange occurrence. He saw nothing. Before he could sit down again, a black mist started to seep from the sword. The Stranger watched with pure awe as he saw this inky mist transform into a transparent dark figure. The outline of the figure was that of a man, though The Stranger could not recognise whom.
“Great Other?” The Stranger asked with curiosity, though only received a shaking of the head.
“No you body stealing creature. It is I, Niclas.” The Stranger stared at the spirit for a short while, his eyes squinted as if to try and identify if this were true or not. After a little while his eyes widened and he grinned.
“Ah Nic! My soul brother, it is ever so good to see you again. What brings you up so far North?” The Stranger said smiling.
Sheathing Frostbite to his belt, The Stranger started walking down the stoney edge of the Milkwater, leaving behind the rotting corpses and spirit of Niclas Stone. Before getting ten metres away, the spirit appeared in front of him. The Stranger turned, looking to where Niclas had once been. He turned back and smiled.
“Good trick old friend. I believe I have places to be, if you would excuse-” The entity quickly cut him off.
“Damn you to all the Seven hells Stranger! Give me back my body and be gone!” The Stranger could not help but to laugh, as if he were to be ordered around by a mere dead bastard.
“Good try, but no. I already said I have a requirement for your corpse. Now I must get going, you may come along if you like.” The Stranger continued his path, the dark entity angrily walking by his side.
“Damn thieving trickster. You make me kill my friend, then steal my body. I will kill you!” The Stranger rolled his eyes.
“You are growing very annoying, is there a way to get rid of you?” For the first time, The Stranger listened to laughter rather than angry comments.
“You will never be rid of me, not until both of us are dead.” The Stranger joined his friend in laughter.
“Well I hope you can get used to me, I’ve been told I have a nature which is hard to get accustom to. Though I cannot say Miss Winter necessarily disagreed with my nature when I filled her corpse with my seed.” The Stranger stopped and thought for a moment. “Perhaps that is why she did not turn. No, I don’t think so.” The Stranger observed the spirit grow angrier and angrier.
“You sick bastard! I will find a way to kill you, Stranger.” The entity seemed to disappear without a trace, leaving The Stranger to his thoughts.
“I suppose I am now a bastard. A bastard of the Night’s Watch.”
-
Hours turned to days as The Stranger continued his journey south, stopping for nothing apart from those that might challenge him. He intended to create small distractions before he crossed south of the Wall. The journey had been quiet, and quite unfortunate as he had hoped the company of Carley would have been good. Though the silence bothered him, he had not heard anything from his haunting spirit. Or anything at all in that matter - until now.
The Haunted Forest was a playground for The Stranger, a game which he knew how to win. He could hear everything, and consider himself a part of the forest at times. Afterall, before he had become an agent or the Great Other, he was a Child of the Forest. The Stranger noticed the cracking and snapping of branches in the distance, the sound of lousy footsteps traversing through the forest. He quickly moved closer to the noise to investigate. He observed squirrels hide in the trees as he approached, snow foxes and hares dart away as his presence reached them. These men are greater fools than the animals of the forest. The Stranger climbed over a small mound and found himself staring at two black brothers, one on horseback and the other on foot, and a wildling lazily walking south. Interesting, perhaps these brothers could lead me south of the Wall. Only one way to find out I suppose. The Stranger fiddled with his gear, pulled his hair from his eyes and slumbered onto the track.
“Brothers!” He gasped, as he fell to the ground in a breathless effort. He noticed one with a large greatsword on his back turn. His hair was silver.
“Charles, watch Thom. You there, halt. Put your hands where they can be seen.” The Stranger obeyed the seemingly Dornish looking man dismount his horse and approach The Stranger. He showed his blood stained hands, where the cuts of Frostbite had left their mark.
“It is I, Niclas Stone. I am injured.” The Dornishmen raised his eyebrows in shock, then quickly rushed to The Stranger’s aid. He knelt by his side and inspected his injuries.
“First Ranger, it is good to see you alive. These wounds look fresh, what happened?” The Stranger shrugged.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, just a small band of wildlings.” The Stranger sighed. “They got Kyllan.” It was now Charles who spoke.
“Kyllan? Gods be good.” The tall man with short black hair nervously fidgeted his fingers. The Stranger moved his attention to the Dornishmen.
“Are we heading back to the Wall? I think I’ll need a maester to tend to these wounds.” The Dornishmen sadly shook his head.
“Apologies, we’re waiting on Odin and Kaiden to return. Once we know they’re safe, then we will return to the Wall.” The Stranger grunted, looking at his hands.
“I hate to do this, but it’s too dangerous. With the command I have as First Ranger, I order you to take us back to the Wall.” The Dornishmen looked at The Stranger with shock, though Charles spoke in his stead.
“Ser Ulrich, we have been waiting for days. Perhaps it is time to get back to the safety of the Wall.” Ser Ulrich turned with disgust to Charles.
“You would leave your brothers behind?” Charles shrugged, he seemed undecided on what to do.
“We must leave this First Ranger.” The Stranger turned and looked at the wildling who said that. “He is dangerous.” The Stranger looked back to Ser Ulrich.
“Are you going to listen to a wildling, Ser Ulrich? Or to the First Ranger of the Night’s Watch, your brother.” The wildling shook his head.
“Look at his eyes! Look at the blue shade, he is not well. We must go!” The Stranger looked at the wildling with death peircing eyes.
“Shut it you. Now Ser Ulrich, I see we have two choices here. We can either head back to the Wall as I have ordered. Or I can execute both you and Charlie and this fucking wildling for treason.” Ser Ulrich backed away, drawing his weapon.
“You’re right Thom, this isn’t the First Ranger.” The Stranger chuckled to himself and unsheathed Frostbite.
Before anything happened, a number of black brothers appeared with their swords in arms. One of the brothers eyes widened as he noticed the First Ranger.
“Lord Commander Flint! It’s First Ranger Niclas!” A man with wavy brown hair and a stubble turned and eyed The Stranger over. This is my chance.
“Lord Commander! Ser Ulrich and Charlie are working with this wildling. They were trying to take me to their wildling camp for execution! We must cease them at once!” The Lord Commander’s face reddened with anger, he looked to his men.
“You heard the first Ranger, bind these traitors!” The men nodded, approaching the three with their weapons drawn. Ser Ulrich Dayne shook his head in disbelief.
“By my honour as a knight, as a ranger of the Night’s Watch. I am not traitor! The First Ranger is not who he claims! We are innocent!” The Lord Commander shook his head.
“Ser Ulrich Dayne, Sword of the Morning. You are convicted with treason, and sentenced to death. Lartel, kill him.” A young man looked back to the Lord Commander with confusion. Ser Ulrich Dayne backed away.
“I will not kill my brothers, but I will not be framed for a crime I did not commit. Others take you Rodrik!” Ser Ulrich quickly darted to his horse, black brothers chasing after him.
The silver haired man managed to mount and gallop away, though copped an arrow in his upper back as he escaped. The Lord Commander shook his head irritably and walked over to The Stranger.
“It’s good to see you are well Niclas. I am going to cut the chatter short, we were ambushed by wildlings and we are currently tracking them down. We believe we have found their current whereabouts, and I am fortunate now to have another commanding officer on the field. I was going to lead the assault myself, but now I am going to make that decision yours. I understand you must be eager to get back to the safety behind the Wall, and I can assure you we will be there soon. Though you must either lead this assault or protect those who are wounded back at our makeshift base. Make your decision now, we did not come out here on coincidence, and we fear the wildlings may be getting away.” The Stranger looked down to his sliced hands. It would be difficult for me to fight with these, not that I would bother anyway.
[Lead the assault against the wildlings] [Defend the camp]
The Stranger
The cursed entity that resided in First Ranger Niclas’ body rested his back against the smooth round rocks on the edge of th… moree Milkwater. The Stranger held Frostbite, First Ranger Niclas’ sword, in his hands - running the sharpened edge over his frozen fingers, leaving deep cuts down to the bone. He sat and did this as he waited for his new companions to arise. The Ice River folk had been dead for a few days now, and The Stranger was beginning to doubt the Great Other’s promise to resurrect the dead. Carley Winter, the stubborn Ice River woman who refused The Stranger, was the only corpse out of the five with blue eyes.
“Perhaps I did not follow the order correctly. Oh well, I’m no White Walker but I am positive that these minions will rise soon enough.” The Stranger smirked, to no one in particular.
The Stranger raised an eyebrow when he felt a strange feeling touch him, almost an essence or a spirit. He stood, the blade… [view original content]
Comments
Don't know if that was intentional, but nice easter egg ;D
Anyway, [Find Odin] sounds more interesting
[Send remaining men to Skane] and [Request aid from Greenguard]
Haha, I'm glad she's what you expected. She was one of the most delightful reads out of your submits (all of yours are, but I instantly attached with this one). So I really enjoy writing about her
As for this choice... Well we know from Kaiden's PoV that Odin's 'original' intentions were to kill the deserter: Toregg. Though Kaiden lost all confidence in that when he watched Odin betray the Watch and join the Nightrunners. So we are looking at a man with secret ambitions. We must remember that he had a lot of issues back at the Watch, concerning himself with nightmares that haunted him. He is very much aware of what is coming against the Wall, he claims he has even seen it. This is what haunts him in his sleep. Anyway, I won't spoil anymore :P
It was! I was hoping to hint it to find out if you were still alive! XD
It's been a while since I've seen any activity my friend
Though I haven't been monitoring Forum's so that might have been why XD
Hope all is going well with you?
I really like your rationale behind this, and me being bias, I would have chosen the same options. I think I almost layed them out too perfectly
. Anyway, I think the one good thing about the Bleeding War is it is Non Canon, so you can't really go spoil yourself on awoiaf to see what happens. So literally, you making the choice to have the Umbers help the Starks rather than the Watch could be a turning tide for the war. Or the Umbers could have responded to Jorge when he sent out ravens to Eastwatch, Last Hearth and the Nightfort.
As for the Haunted Forest. Yes, The Stranger will be returning shortly. Can't remember if it was the next part or not. XD
Alright, this was a clear vote. Prestan will send the remaining men to Skane and choose to request aid from Greenguard.
I'm really happy this was the choice you guys made, it kind of leads onto a better storyline in my opinion.
Another clear choice! Freya will find Odin.
Yeah, I'm fine, aside from little stress with my studying. It's also such a dark time of the year here
Anyway, I haven't been that much on the forums in general lately, mostly because there was so much going on during the holidays with family and friends... and after that it has been like a big hangover (not literally but still
). I'm back now though! 
A dark time? How do you mean?
Well, I think I speak for a lot of us when I say I'm glad you're back! Haha. Glad you're doing well.
What I mean is simply that the sun rises somewhere around 9-10 am and sets 3 pm
And then there are the effing cloudy days so you don't see the sun at all. Sucks to be in the North 
Where are you from?
Finland
Cool, have some Finnish colleagues in work and they are super nice :-)
[Send remaining men to Skane]
[Request aid from Greenguard]
Todd
The Nightfort stood old but not obsolete. The cold dark stone was well maintained, though still haunting. Todd stared at the large castle from a distance, his legs aching from being on horseback so long. The Nightfort was built on a hill that met the Wall. A large stone stairway led up to the main gate to the Nightfort, then more stairs which led into the unwalled castle. That had been the way of the Night’s Watch, there were to be no walls that surrounded the keeps on the off chance that the entire Watch broke their oaths and took the Wall. According to the legends it had happened once before, when the Night’s King had taken the Wall for himself and the Watch for his personal slaves. Though those were only stories. Todd turned and looked at the exhausted brothers beside him, they had rode all day from Castle Black. Jullon sat on his garon, his hands tightened around the reins, with his sullen expression on his face. Todd had managed to get little from Jullon in the past week, a few small chats but nothing big. He had talked to First Builder Errok about Jullon’s behavior, though the greying man simply shook his head. ‘That’s not my business to say. If he wants you to know then he will tell you.’ Todd hadn’t spoken to him since, he couldn’t find a way to do so. Beside Jullon was the honorable ranger Ser Olyvar Reyne, and next to him were Frog and Hawkins. First Ranger Kegan had extended three of his rangers to escort their group back to the Nightfort, Ser Olyvar had taken leadership.
Ser Olyvar was a young man, cocky with his status but respected as a swordsman and tactician. He is honorable to his leaders and elders, but mere stewards and builder need to more to gain his trust and friendship. His hair was a short curly red, his face was cleanly shaved. He had an athletic build, tall and slim. His two companions, Hawkins and Frog, were less known. Frog was a quiet man, in his mid thirties, who was born in the Fingers. He had a bald head, flat face and narrow eyes - a gaunt appearance - which earned him the name of Frog. Hawkins however was a handsome young man in his prime, his hair was a wavy light brown. He wore his beard clean, clearly being one of the more importances of his life on the Watch. He was from the Vale, and clearly living there he had picked up a trick or two in the ways of archery.
Todd sighed, the ride had been long and hard, there had been no one to talk to either. Lartel had been called with the rest of the newly editioned rangers to follow the Lord Commander into battle against the Wildlings. Todd shivered to think of Lartel’s fate. I wonder if he is even still alive. Perhaps I’ll never know. Todd shook the thought from his head, thinking of other thoughts - thoughts more pleasant. They were quickly interrupted when the gallant black knight trotted up to Todd’s horse. Todd looked at the man’s curly red hair, as red as a ruby. The knight looked at him with a stern expression, he seemed as tired as the rest of the men slowly riding along - though he kept a tall and lean appearance.
“You, boy. Ride with all haste to the Nightfort and give this letter to the maester.” Todd looked down to the extended hand with the rolled paper. He looked back to the knight with a puzzled look, then quickly realised. They could not send a raven because of the storm. Todd nodded.
“Yes ser.” Todd took the note and placed it into his saddle bag.
Jabbing the garon in the ribs with his foot, he kicked the horse into a gallop heading straight for the main gate of the Nightfort.
-
Todd nearly fell off his garon when he dismounted in the courtyard. One brother came to his aid, others sniggered and the rest simply ignored him. Todd felt his legs turn to jelly as he set foot on solid land, if it were not for the man who had come to his aid when he did then he would have surely fallen. Todd recognised who the young skinny man was - Liam, the Lord Commander’s personal steward. He had probably been without a job since they had been gone. Todd used the man to steady his balance, though his legs were of little use to him.
“I need to get to the Maester’s Tower.” Liam silently nodded, pulling Todd’s arm over his shoulder and guiding him towards the tower.
The young man gently guided Todd up the stone stairs of the Maester’s Tower, each step made Todd feel unsure about his balance. He was fortunate that he could rely on his silent brother, who quietly helped him along the way. After a long ascendance, Liam balanced Todd against the cool rounded stone wall of the tower. Todd nodded in thanks, and Liam took his part and left. Todd looked down to his his legs, they were shaking and wobbling like jelly. No more long rides for me. Todd thought, shredding the sheer idea of it. He put some weight into his legs and managed to walk to the door of the Maester’s quarters, each step agonising. He knocked on the door three times, then waited patiently. Almost immediately, the door opened and there stood Felix. His eyes widened when he recognised it was Todd.
“Todd! Seven Hells, get inside.” He said, sounding shocked and almost fearful.
Todd walked in with his shaking legs, one step at a time, as quickly as was comfortable. Felix quickly shut the door and escorted Todd to the soft leather cushioned chair opposite of Maester Endrew’s. The Maester’s chair was vacant. Todd looked up at Felix with questioning eyes.
“Where is the Maester?” Felix shook his head and sat down in Endrew’s chair.
“Todd, where have you been? Where are the others? There were rumors that you and the other new recruits and deserted beyond the Wall. It would have made sense, like, I don’t think many houses worship the Old Gods in the Riverlands.” Felix was right on that matter, he did not truly worship the Old Gods, though it seemed that no gods had ever answered him.
“We had no intentions of deserting Felix, we were attacked. Ambushed by wildlings at the weirwood. The Lord Commander took all the rangers to pursue them in battle, First Builder Errok took the rest of us back to Castle Black when we heard the sounds of metal clashing.” The sixteen year old looked at Todd with eyes full of wonder and awe. Todd shook his head slowly.
“First Builder Errok and the rest of the brothers are only a half hour ride from here. I was sent by Ser Olyvar Reyne to give a message to the Maester, is he feeding the ravens?” Felix shook his head and shrugged.
“Leave it to the morning Todd. So what else happened? Did you see the wildlings? Did they look hideous like the stories say?” Todd frustratingly rolled his eyes and stood up, so he appeared taller than Felix.
“Felix. Where is the Maester?” He asked with a serious tone, a hint of anger was mixed in it as well. Felix sighed, his expression saddened.
“He’s upstairs.” Todd nodded and proceeded to the spiral wooden staircase, but was held back by Felix’s arm. “Todd, he is with his scribe.” Todd turned, raising an eyebrow when he looked at Felix.
“I am his scribe…” Felix frowned and stood up.
“Not anymore. You see, we thought you were dead… Or worse. The Maester took a new scribe with the recent recruits.” Todd’s heart sunk, he knew he had not yet started his job but he also knew that his job was more fortunate than most other stewards got. He nodded, keeping a solemn expression.
“I must see the Maester regardless.” Todd turned and slowly started ascending the wooden steps, to the top of the tower.
The top floor consisted of two stories, and was the largest part of the tower. The Maester had three stories which belonged to him. The bottom floor was for guests who desired counsel or just to talk in their time of need. The second floor, where Todd stood now, was dedicated to the kitchen, bedrooms and pens for the ravens. For the most part, it smelt of bird manure. The top floor, only a long wooden platform which overlooked the second floor, housed the desk for the scribe. It was positioned next to the an opening window which a scribe could easily receive and send ravens at his or her own will. That was to be Todd’s job, though now another young boy sat behind that desk with the Maester looming over him. Todd saw as he climbed the steps to the top floor. He stopped at the top, waiting for the Maester to notice him, and when he did his expression was emotionless.
“Come forth, Todd Rivers.” He said with an old croaky voice. His one eye searched Todd all over, as if trying to recognise his physical form. He turned to his new scribe. “You may take the rest of the day off, Dann Flint.” The boy nodded, standing with his hands clasped.
Todd felt his brow begin to sweat, his cheeks begin to blush, as he looked at this Dann Flint. He was not sure why, but there was something different about him. He stared with wonder, observing the boy’s features. He seemed Todd’s age, maybe a little younger. He wore a black hat over his head, covering all of his hair - if he had any. What bothered Todd were his eyes, those beautiful light brown eyes. Todd shook out the thought, feeling a chill of homophobia crawl over him.
“As you wish, Maester Endrew.” Dann said, his voice was high pitched and he almost sounded like a girl.
Todd watched as his replacement strided away, descending down the stairs and into the room of the scribe. He sighed and turned to the Maester, who had taken a seat in the scribe’s chair.
“Come closer Todd, we must talk.” Todd nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat cheated and disappointed.
“You’re not surprised to see me, Maester?” The old man chuckled, turning his attention out of the window.
“I have the highest tower in the Nightfort, I can see ravens approaching and rangers riding from miles away. Your small garrison was a large black spot on a frozen greenland.” Todd nodded, remaining silent. The Maester sighed. “I’m sorry Todd, if I had known of your status I would have waited. We received no ravens, no riders, no news whatsoever. And with this recent storm it’s been difficult to just rely on Felix to get things done around here.” The Maester looked at Todd with his one good eye, looking for a response.
“I understand Maester, there was no way you could have known.” The Maester gently and graciously smiled.
“Thank you for understanding, Todd. I wish things could have been different. Now, I need to know, what has happened of the Lord Commander? I did not see him in the party you rode with, though my eyes are not so good anymore.” Todd frowned, feeling regret for abandoning Lartel once again.
“The Lord Commander and the newly made rangers met a band of wildlings head on in battle. I do not know if he still lives. Or if any of them do.” The thought made Todd shiver, regret flushed through him and stabbed him like a frozen dagger. The Maester nodded with a stern expression on his face.
“Very well. Is there any other news you have?” Todd quickly remember the letter that Ser Olyvar had given him. He pulled it out and gave it to the Maester. “Hmm? What is this?” He took the letter and opened it.
“Ser Olyvar Reyne handed it to me, gave me strict directions to get it to you immediately.” The Maester rolled his eye.
“Damn knights.” He muttered, somewhat humourously.
After a very long time of reading the letter, then rereading the letter, he rolled it up and slipped it into his sleeve. He looked to Todd.
“I will attend to that later. I must be there to meet the First Builder when he arrives with the rest of the brothers. Then I must look into finding you a new position, I have something in mind but it may take a while. For the meantime, you may either accompany me down to the yard, or you can help Dann with the work that needs to be done around here.” Todd nodded.
“What of Felix?” The Maester shrugged.
“He will go where you will not. Quickly now, we’d best not be late if you’re coming along.”
[Accompany the Maester] [Help Dann Flint around the Tower]
Hey guys, sorry for the seriously long wait. I have had family come down to visit for the past week and a half, and have been flat out busy with that. This part was also a pain to write with the little motivation I had, but I got it done. I'll try and bring out the next part in the next few days.
[Accompany the Maester]
[Accompany the Maester]
[Help Dann Flint around the Tower]
[Help Dann Flint around the Tower]
Dann Flint, huh? That name sounds oddly familiar
[Help Dann Flint around the Tower]
Vote closed! Todd will choose to help Dann Flint around the Maester's Tower.
In my opinion, this might not have been the best decision yet still the one I would have chosen. As the Maester will soon be meeting with 'someone' to get Todd a new position, it wont look good that he isn't accompanying him, but it will also show that Todd is a hard worker. So yes and no for a good decision here. Anyway, the good news is we get to take a look at a new character (which would not have been focussed on as much if not for this choice).
Next part goes to Tristifer Oldstark, who is visiting his family at Ol'Tower.
Oh, the vote is already closed, I thought I still had time
Well I read the part, not sure what I would've voted though. Nice part anyway 
Tristifer
Tristifer’s hands were sweaty, his brow too. He clenched onto his longsword, staring at the door that stood in front of him. His breathing was shallow, almost like short pants. He was afraid, for the first in a long time, he now had to confront whatever was on the other side of the door. He secured his left hand around the doorknob, quietly turning it until the lock released and the door slowly swung open. Tristifer entered the dim room, the curtains around the tower were shut which made it harder for Tristifer to calm himself. As he entered with his sword sheathed, he saw a shadow rise in front of him, standing taller than himself. Then, all of a sudden, light filled the room and seemed to put Tristifer on a spotlight. Before he knew it, he found himself on the ground with a tall man hovering over him - his sword in hand. Tristifer’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden lighting, and he realised that his eldest brother - Garrett - stood over him with a look of anger in his eye. Before anything else could happen, the soundless room filled with a roar of anger.
“Garrett! Get the bloody hell off of him, have I not taught you anything these twenty years?” Garrett turned his attention to the booming voice character, who could only have been their father.
“Father, he walked in with a weapon. He could have been trying to kill you for all we know!” Before Garrett could continue, he was interrupted.
“Seven hells boy, get out before I get out of this bed and throw you out.” Tristifer watched his brother’s face redden, his hesitation, before he released Tristifer and stormed out of the room and descended the long steps down the spire.
Tristifer slowly got up, feeling the adrenaline flowing through his veins. If it were not for his family being in this room, he would have likely brawled with his brother. The two had never gotten along, not even when they were children. The first three children of the family had been Garrett, Tristifer and Rechard. Rechard had always been witty, but also shady and never did anything unless it was to benefit himself. Tristifer had always been noble and just, being the favored by their father. As for Garrett, he was the eldest and was trained to be the future Lord of Ol’Tower, Warden of the Stony Shore and Protector of the West Coast. Though Garrett knew he was not favored, treated like a second born because his father had wished Tristifer to have been his heir. This had made him grow bitter and rash, despite him already being the set heir.
Tristifer eyed the rest of his family in the room. His father, Garn, lay in a large bed. His mother, Lylla, sat by his side with her hands clasped. And his sisters, Allise and Olyvia, stood opposite of where Tristifer was now.
“Go on girls, let me speak with my son in private.” Garn quietly said, then turning to his wife. “You too.” Tristifer felt the unease and worry as the women walked passed him, closing the door behind them. Tristifer sighed and walked to his father’s side.
“Father… I’m so sorry, I did not mean to start this commotion, it’s just-” Garn held up his hand, as if to stop Tristifer from speaking.
“It happens. I am glad you were able to make it, I presume the Wall is treating you well?” Tristifer could see that this was all his father’s pep talk, in an attempt to lighten the already dull mood. Tristifer thought to humour his father, and not battle to his point.
“All is well at the Wall. I am the Master-at-arms at the Nightfort, though give it a few more years and I may try to run for Command on one of the castles when one of the old men there passes away.” Tristifer heard the same old chuckle from his father, the one he had not heard in many years.
He looked at his father with a more serious expression now, observing how much his features had changed. Dark grey bags lived under his eyes, making it clear he had not been sleeping well. His head was once bald, yet now white hair was starting to grow. His beard was white with gray stands, and curly like those of House Oldstark. The were formidable features that Tristifer had remembered of his father, though there were obvious new features that had come with his illness. His food intake had been diminishing, and as a consequence the one strong and athletic built man was now skinny and weak. His dark brown eyes were still the same, a mirror image of his own.
“Father, you’re truly… Dying.” The man frowned, he was only in his sixties and it was clear it bothered him.
“If it weren’t so, I’m sure we wouldn’t have seen eachother for a great many years. Enough of this depressive talk, I am fortunate that you were able to make it here so I could do it myself.” Tristifer felt suspicious and also curious of what his father was talking about.
“What do you mean father?” Garn smiled and rolled onto his left side, picking up something from the floor.
“My will to you.” He rolled back over, revealing Wolfsbane. The ancient heritage sword had lived in the family for over five generations.
The sword’s pommel was a wolf’s tale, and the opening to the blade itself was a wolf’s head - as if the blade were coming out of the wolf’s mouth. The hilt itself was a dark grey, verging black, and the wolf head had eyes made of sapphires. The blade was was a mix of valyrian steel and another unknown material, which gave the steel a blue tint and sometimes a glow. Garn handed the sword to Tristifer.
“Father, I cannot accept this… This is meant for the Lord of Ol’Tower. Not a mere brother of the Night’s Watch.” Garn shook his head and made Tristifer take the sword.
“You are my son, and more worthy of the blade than my infuriated heir. When the time is right, when he has matured greater than yourself, you will give him Wolfsbane. Until then, I name you the protector of Wolfsbane, the sword who slayed the iron kings and protects the North from raiders.” Tristifer held the well-balanced weapon in his hand.
“Thank you father… I don’t know how I can ever-” The door swung open, interrupting Tristifer’s sentence, and there stood his brother Rechard.
“Father, my apologies for the interruption. I must speak with Tristifer, it is of some importance.” Garn stared at Rechard, then looked to Tristifer.
“Goodbye, my son.” The dying man whispered, and without a train of thought, Tristifer found himself leaving the room - not losing eye contact with his father until the doors were shut.
Rechard stood beside Tristifer in his dark green tunic with crescent moons patterned all over it. His expression seemed glump at first, though was quickly hidden behind those curiously odd eyes. His eyes moved their attention to their father’s sword, then back to Tristifer. He clasped his hands and sighed.
“Please, accompany me to my office.” Tristifer looked at his younger brother, a puzzled expression on his face.
“What for? Why do you pull me from my father’s death bed?” Tristifer observed the bald man turn and raise a suspicious eyebrow at him. His brown mustache was thick and dark.
“So that we may speak where we may not be heard. I can assure you, it will be far easier to talk this through with me then it will be with Garrett.” Rechard said as he began descending the spiral stairwell. Tristifer shook his head, frustrated and confused.
“Talk to you about what? What is this all about Rechard?” Tristifer’s tone was impatient and stressed, growing mildly worried. He took one last look at the closed doors, then followed his brother down the stairs.
-
Rechard’s office was large and secluded, lying on the far edge of Ol’Tower’s main keep. The view overlooked the Sunset Sea, the Bay of Ice hidden behind Sea Dragon Point, and far north one with good eyes could see the shining white Frozen Shores. Rechard sat in his desk, the decree that Tristifer had given him lay before him. He picked it up, eying each word in the letter as if he were searching for some answer. Dissatisfied with his results, he threw the paper back onto his desk.
“Well Tristifer, I must say I’m somewhat impressed. To desert the Night’s Watch, hand me your own death warrant. All of this just to see our father? What in the Seven were you thinking?” Tristifer stared at him with confusion, which quickly turned to anger.
“You dare claim me as a deserter? I had the Lord Commander write me a pardon from the Wall to visit my family!” Tristifer could feel the sweat running down his hands and starting to drip from his fingertips. Rechard shook his head and frowned.
“The letter you gave me says otherwise. Here, read it for yourself.” He said, picking up the roll of paper and passing it to Tristifer. Tristifer quickly snatched it from his brother and unrolled the paper, reading the contents laid before him.
To the Noble Houses of the North
The Master-at-Arms at the Nightfort, Tristifer Oldstark, has recently abandoned our brotherhood and broken his vows by doing so. There is no need for me to explain the punishment, as all men of the North know the consequences to treason. Oldstark took the lives of one of his brothers, First Ranger Niclas Stone, when he was fleeing the Wall. I would warn you now that this trained killer is now lurking somewhere in the North, and should be hunted down and executed on sight.
Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch
Rodrik Flint.
Tristifer slowly scrunched up the paper, his eyes not moving from the ground. His face was steaming with anger, he should have checked the letter when he had the chance. That backstabbing, auroch herding, piece of shit! Tristifer dropped the paper.
“That lying fucker! I- I.” Tristifer found himself lost for words, the Lord Commander had stripped him of his honour and pride in four sentences. Rechard sighed and stood from his cushioned chair.
“Then I have no reason to doubt that you have been framed.” Rechard said with a bored tone in his voice. Tristifer ignored it, ready to destroy the furniture in his brother’s office. He calmed himself, looking for some diplomatic solutions.
“I must ride for Winterfell at once, inform King Benjen of the truth.” Rechard shook his head.
“Brother, do not be so naive to think this is the only letter. I would wager that he has already sent ravens to Winterfell and the Last Hearth, and they are no doubt searching for you. Which is why it is not safe to have you here.” Tristifer felt the anger boil inside him, he clenched the sheathed Wolfsbane.
“Then I will get my revenge, even if it does kill me.” Rechard rolled his eyes, seemingly doubting Tristifer’s new ambitions.
“You have a thousand men to go through in the Nightfort before you may even stand a chance to kill the Lord Commander, and then you will certainly be executed for treason and murder. Both your plans are a good way to get you killed and to shame your family at the same time. You will not stay here, or else the North will name us an enemy and thwart us by ten to one.” Tristifer shook his head in disbelief, was this really happening?
“So what, you’re going to exile me? Send me off in a box of cargo to Essos?” Rechard allowed himself to laugh, but shook his head.
“No, your best option is to board our trading vessel down to Oldtown. We hold strong relations with the Hightowers, and our younger brother Desmond is training as a Maester. You can take refuge there until I can find a way to fix this, but you need to leave today. Gods know that if you stay here any longer, Garrett will kill you before any other Northmen will even get a glimpse of you.” Tristifer felt his heart sink, his life might as well have been over.
“And when Garrett becomes Lord? He will search all the seas to find me Rechard.” His brother frowned.
“You’re not the only one in danger, Tristifer. Our sister, Allise, refuses to marry. She wishes for a life of adventure, where she can put her talents of fighting into action. If she stays then Garrett will force her into relations likely with the Whitehill boy, unless I can persuade him otherwise - but you know how stubborn he is. As for Jack, Garrett despises him and will just as easily banish him from Ol’Tower as he will take your life in the holy grounds. I’m not asking for you to take both, if so then it would be considered suspicious. Though if you were to take either Jack or Allise, Garrett would just consider them as a runaway and likely ignore it. The decision is yours, just know that you have a dangerous path ahead, and you certainly will need help.”
[Take Jack Snow with you to Oldtown] [Take Allise Oldstark with you to Oldtown]
[Take Allise Oldstark with you to Oldtown] Rodrik Flint.... I hope we get a chance to kill him soon.
[Take Allise Oldstark with you to Oldtown]
[Take Allise Oldstark with you to Oldtown]
[Take Allise Oldstark with you to Oldtown]
That is actually a hard choice. I'd like to take both, since both seem to be in some sort of danger if they stay at Ol'Tower, but alas, I'm afraid I have to make a choice. To make things easier for me, I'm just going with the majority here, also since a forced marriage, especially to a Whitehill is something I don't wish for anyone.
[Take Allise Oldstark] It looks like the choice is pretty much made already, and this option is fine with me.
This was a very good part!
Well, the vote was pretty clear so it is time to put it to a close. Tristifer will choose to take his little sister, Allise Oldstark, instead of his bastard brother Jack to Oldtown.
Personally, I would have chosen Jack Snow in this position. Only because I know there is more story for him as a bastard of a growing noble house in the North, but I also saw values in taking Allise to Oldtown as well. The next part might take a while, as I'm now back in college and we have a three day camp starting as of tomorrow so it may be a few days till I post something - and then I need to finish editing the plans to the next part.
I'm not exactly sure which PoV is going to be next, I'm feeling like I might move away from the North for the next one and focus on one of two of my new characters down south. Anyway, hope you guys are well (and hope you are recovering @WildlingKing), I look forward to catching up with you in the next week!
[Take Allise Oldstark with you to Oldtown]
Jorge
The town hall boomed with anger and distress, the few remaining men of the Night’s Watch tried their best to calm the crowd but it was no good. Jorge had claimed a corner of the hall for his family, where they had tried to rest for the rest of the night, though no one slept. Jorge sat quietly, his back resting against the cool stone brick wall. Tanya and Kyra were doing their best to keep Croll calm and preoccupied, the past events had been frightening enough but this had been something else. Jorge had known the Skaggs would grow confident, that they would one day test the strength of the Watch. The black brothers managed to fend the raiders off, but with a great cost. Only Ser Harold and a handful of men remained, and undoubtedly all of them had sobered.
Jorge sighed, rubbing his aching head. There was no rest in the hall, quiet chatter all through the night and then arguments and abuse from the light of dawn. The Watch had done little to interrupt. What can they do? The Skanish outnumber them ten to one. A sudden loud booming voice filled the room, Jorge looked up to see the fuss. It was Commander Warrek.
“Citizens, we are doing the best we can to assure that Skane is safe from anymore attacks. I have received a raven from Commander Prestan Blacktyde, informing us that he is sending more men to our aid. I believe the best thing we can do now is remain calm and do our best to help each other in need.” The Commander’s skin was pale, for the exception of dark bags under his eyes, and it looked as if he had recovered little since Jorge’s last encounter with him.
“What are we meant to eat? The Hub has been burnt down and all our supplies with it! Did you tell the Commander that?!” A farmer yelled in anger, others began to back him up.
“Aye, how are we meant to help each other if we can’t even protect ourselves from bloody Skaggs! What bloody good are you black brothers!” A giant uproar filled the room with curses and distress. Jorge noticed Ser Harold quickly approaching.
“Jorge, thank the Seven you and your family are alive. Are you injured?” Jorge shook his head. “Good, we must speak. Somewhere quieter.” Jorge looked at the night with curiosity, then to his family. Tanya looked at him with approval.
Jorge gently stood himself up, avoiding to trigger any unwanted aches in his legs. Ser Harold started for the main door, Jorge followed at a fast pace.
The air outside the hall was cool, flakes of snow fell onto the ground and made small white piles. It was a beauty that shined through all the disgust that the Skanish had just suffered. Ser Harold led Jorge into a small logging shack. The inside smelt of freshly cut wood, the floor was mostly hay and sawdust. The black knight closed the doors behind them and beckoned for Jorge to take a seat on a sawed log. Ser Harold remained standing.
“I brought you here because there is no doubt that you want answers. Commander Warrek’s speech of hope, well yes it is true…” Jorge raised an eyebrow.
“But what?” Ser Harold sighed, disappointed and seemingly miserable.
“But, Warrek has received commands to drop our post now that we know more men are to arrive. We leave sunrise tomorrow.” Jorge could not tell if he was more angry than surprised, he stood up and kicked the log over.
“You are leaving us? To fend for ourselves until more fucking black brothers come to die?” Ser Harold sadly nodded.
“I’m sorry Jorge, orders are orders. We are only pulling some men aside, like yourself, to offer you a chance off of Skane. We can take you and your family off of Skane, give them a home at Darkhold.” Jorge turned to Harold, fury riddled through his expression.
“Them?” The knight sighed.
“In order for this to happen, you must join the Night’s Watch. Now before you tear down this shack just hear me out. Your family will be living under protection of House Black, a house which funds the Watch and hence holds close ties. Rangers, stewards and builders all have the chance to serve there. No matter what you became, I could organise for you to be stationed at Darkhold, and you could still see your family.” Jorge shook his head frustratedly.
“Yet never be able to touch my wife again, father my children. I would only be a ghost to them.” Ser Harold frowned.
“And you may all be corpses by the time reinforcements alive. Jorge I understand this decision should not be made lightly, but this is a matter between life and death. The Night’s Watch is still a great honour, would you risk your family’s life for your opinion on us? And your son, Kaiden, serves as an honorable brother. He is a ranger you know.” Jorge shook his head irritably.
“My son is a disappointment to me… I must speak to my family about your offer.” Ser Harold nodded, unlocking the wooden door that led outside.
“Consider our offer carefully.” Jorge nodded hesitantly, then exited the shack and headed to the hall.
-
When Jorge had delivered the news to his family, Kyra had been the first to storm off. Croll had quickly chased after her with teary eyes, and Tanya had instantly disagreed.
“You can’t join them Jorge. You don’t belong there, and the Night’s Watch can’t be trusted to live up to its promises.” Jorge shook his head.
“We would be safer there, no Skaggs or anything to bother us.” Tanya’s face filled with anger.
“What about wildling attacks Jorge?” Jorge raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Wildling attacks? Honey there is a bloody wall to keep them out.” Tanya shook her head angrily.
“Are you that naive to think that a bloody wall of ice will stop the freefolk from passing south to raid the lands?” Jorge raised an eyebrow, this kind of talk from his wife was something he had never heard before. “My answer is no Jorge, I won’t tolerate you joining the Watch. I won’t lose you.” Jorge frowned sadly.
“Then what else can we do? If we stay here we run the risk of more attacks. As much as I would love to fight back for what is ares, we have children to protect.” Tanya remained silent for a while, though that glint in her eyes meant she had an idea.
“What if you tell Ser Harold you wish to join, we cross the Narrow Sea, then escape before they take you away?” Jorge was taken back by the thought.
“You would have me throw away my honour? Besides that, how could we manage something like this? The boat will take us to Eastwatch, then from there they take you and the kids to Darkhold, and me to the Nightfort.” Tanya gave a weak smile.
“By rights, those who volunteer to join the Watch can pull out before taking their vows. Unless you have committed some sort of crime, you are a free man. And they cannot stop us from leaving if we wish.” Jorge thought on this, it was a good idea. Though the thought of cheating out the one man who had tried to save him from all this misery was simply dishonorable.
“Okay, but go where?” Tanya looked at Jorge with those same eyes she had when they had talked before the burning of the Hub.
“To Ol’Tower. To see Lord Garn Oldstark, your cousin. I have no doubt that he would take us in.” Jorge sighed and let all the ideas soak into his mind, he knew that he wanted to stay in Skane. Perhaps they could hold a strong enough defense until more men arrived.
[Accept Harold’s offer - Join the Night’s Watch] [Follow Tanya’s plan - Don’t join the Watch and head to Ol’Tower] [Refuse both and stay at Skane]
[Follow Tanya’s plan - Don’t join the Watch and head to Ol’Tower]
[Follow Tanya’s plan - Don’t join the Watch and head to Ol’Tower]
[Accept Harold’s offer - Join the Night’s Watch]
[Follow Tanya’s plan - Don’t join the Watch and head to Ol’Tower]
Staying at Skane sounds too dangerous and I am really not a fan of joining the watch for real. Hopefully Tanya's plan won't backfire.
[Follow Tanya’s plan - Don’t join the Watch and head to Ol’Tower]
[Follow Tanya's plan - Don't join the Watch and head to Ol'Tower]
This sounds like the best and the most interesting option. At the same time it's risky though - the Watch is powerful in this timeline and I could see them somehow framing Jorge as criminal and that way not free to leave.
Okay, vote closed. Jorge will decide to follow Tanya's plan and not join the Watch. Ultimately this will lead for him and his family heading to Ol'Tower.
Even for me this was a hard choice, and honestly I would have chosen for them to stay at Skane just so I could have dived deeper into the story there. I guess there is possibility for me to go back there. That would have been easier to focus if he had joined the NW or simply stayed there but ah well. Anyway, I personally feel this choice was not the best and I will tell you why XD
Garn Oldstark honestly cares for all his family, through bastard relation or not. He has raised a bastard, offered for family that were sons and daughters of bastards to reside in Ol'Tower and so forth. Yet the issue is, Garn is on his final legs - and it is not the all noble Tristifer Oldstark who is succeeding him, but instead the jealous and aggravated Garrett Oldstark. Now Garrett hates bastards, and he is the reason that Jack Snow is in so much danger and why his family actually booted him out of the main keep. So to have lower born family coming to seek aid when such a bad lord is being raised... Well, I guess we will see what happens. Anyway, next part goes to The Stranger, and comes out now.
The Stranger
The cursed entity that resided in First Ranger Niclas’ body rested his back against the smooth round rocks on the edge of the Milkwater. The Stranger held Frostbite, First Ranger Niclas’ sword, in his hands - running the sharpened edge over his frozen fingers, leaving deep cuts down to the bone. He sat and did this as he waited for his new companions to arise. The Ice River folk had been dead for a few days now, and The Stranger was beginning to doubt the Great Other’s promise to resurrect the dead. Carley Winter, the stubborn Ice River woman who refused The Stranger, was the only corpse out of the five with blue eyes.
“Perhaps I did not follow the order correctly. Oh well, I’m no White Walker but I am positive that these minions will rise soon enough.” The Stranger smirked, to no one in particular.
The Stranger raised an eyebrow when he felt a strange feeling touch him, almost an essence or a spirit. He stood, the blade of the First Ranger in his hand, and looked around for this strange occurrence. He saw nothing. Before he could sit down again, a black mist started to seep from the sword. The Stranger watched with pure awe as he saw this inky mist transform into a transparent dark figure. The outline of the figure was that of a man, though The Stranger could not recognise whom.
“Great Other?” The Stranger asked with curiosity, though only received a shaking of the head.
“No you body stealing creature. It is I, Niclas.” The Stranger stared at the spirit for a short while, his eyes squinted as if to try and identify if this were true or not. After a little while his eyes widened and he grinned.
“Ah Nic! My soul brother, it is ever so good to see you again. What brings you up so far North?” The Stranger said smiling.
Sheathing Frostbite to his belt, The Stranger started walking down the stoney edge of the Milkwater, leaving behind the rotting corpses and spirit of Niclas Stone. Before getting ten metres away, the spirit appeared in front of him. The Stranger turned, looking to where Niclas had once been. He turned back and smiled.
“Good trick old friend. I believe I have places to be, if you would excuse-” The entity quickly cut him off.
“Damn you to all the Seven hells Stranger! Give me back my body and be gone!” The Stranger could not help but to laugh, as if he were to be ordered around by a mere dead bastard.
“Good try, but no. I already said I have a requirement for your corpse. Now I must get going, you may come along if you like.” The Stranger continued his path, the dark entity angrily walking by his side.
“Damn thieving trickster. You make me kill my friend, then steal my body. I will kill you!” The Stranger rolled his eyes.
“You are growing very annoying, is there a way to get rid of you?” For the first time, The Stranger listened to laughter rather than angry comments.
“You will never be rid of me, not until both of us are dead.” The Stranger joined his friend in laughter.
“Well I hope you can get used to me, I’ve been told I have a nature which is hard to get accustom to. Though I cannot say Miss Winter necessarily disagreed with my nature when I filled her corpse with my seed.” The Stranger stopped and thought for a moment. “Perhaps that is why she did not turn. No, I don’t think so.” The Stranger observed the spirit grow angrier and angrier.
“You sick bastard! I will find a way to kill you, Stranger.” The entity seemed to disappear without a trace, leaving The Stranger to his thoughts.
“I suppose I am now a bastard. A bastard of the Night’s Watch.”
-
Hours turned to days as The Stranger continued his journey south, stopping for nothing apart from those that might challenge him. He intended to create small distractions before he crossed south of the Wall. The journey had been quiet, and quite unfortunate as he had hoped the company of Carley would have been good. Though the silence bothered him, he had not heard anything from his haunting spirit. Or anything at all in that matter - until now.
The Haunted Forest was a playground for The Stranger, a game which he knew how to win. He could hear everything, and consider himself a part of the forest at times. Afterall, before he had become an agent or the Great Other, he was a Child of the Forest. The Stranger noticed the cracking and snapping of branches in the distance, the sound of lousy footsteps traversing through the forest. He quickly moved closer to the noise to investigate. He observed squirrels hide in the trees as he approached, snow foxes and hares dart away as his presence reached them. These men are greater fools than the animals of the forest. The Stranger climbed over a small mound and found himself staring at two black brothers, one on horseback and the other on foot, and a wildling lazily walking south. Interesting, perhaps these brothers could lead me south of the Wall. Only one way to find out I suppose. The Stranger fiddled with his gear, pulled his hair from his eyes and slumbered onto the track.
“Brothers!” He gasped, as he fell to the ground in a breathless effort. He noticed one with a large greatsword on his back turn. His hair was silver.
“Charles, watch Thom. You there, halt. Put your hands where they can be seen.” The Stranger obeyed the seemingly Dornish looking man dismount his horse and approach The Stranger. He showed his blood stained hands, where the cuts of Frostbite had left their mark.
“It is I, Niclas Stone. I am injured.” The Dornishmen raised his eyebrows in shock, then quickly rushed to The Stranger’s aid. He knelt by his side and inspected his injuries.
“First Ranger, it is good to see you alive. These wounds look fresh, what happened?” The Stranger shrugged.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, just a small band of wildlings.” The Stranger sighed. “They got Kyllan.” It was now Charles who spoke.
“Kyllan? Gods be good.” The tall man with short black hair nervously fidgeted his fingers. The Stranger moved his attention to the Dornishmen.
“Are we heading back to the Wall? I think I’ll need a maester to tend to these wounds.” The Dornishmen sadly shook his head.
“Apologies, we’re waiting on Odin and Kaiden to return. Once we know they’re safe, then we will return to the Wall.” The Stranger grunted, looking at his hands.
“I hate to do this, but it’s too dangerous. With the command I have as First Ranger, I order you to take us back to the Wall.” The Dornishmen looked at The Stranger with shock, though Charles spoke in his stead.
“Ser Ulrich, we have been waiting for days. Perhaps it is time to get back to the safety of the Wall.” Ser Ulrich turned with disgust to Charles.
“You would leave your brothers behind?” Charles shrugged, he seemed undecided on what to do.
“We must leave this First Ranger.” The Stranger turned and looked at the wildling who said that. “He is dangerous.” The Stranger looked back to Ser Ulrich.
“Are you going to listen to a wildling, Ser Ulrich? Or to the First Ranger of the Night’s Watch, your brother.” The wildling shook his head.
“Look at his eyes! Look at the blue shade, he is not well. We must go!” The Stranger looked at the wildling with death peircing eyes.
“Shut it you. Now Ser Ulrich, I see we have two choices here. We can either head back to the Wall as I have ordered. Or I can execute both you and Charlie and this fucking wildling for treason.” Ser Ulrich backed away, drawing his weapon.
“You’re right Thom, this isn’t the First Ranger.” The Stranger chuckled to himself and unsheathed Frostbite.
Before anything happened, a number of black brothers appeared with their swords in arms. One of the brothers eyes widened as he noticed the First Ranger.
“Lord Commander Flint! It’s First Ranger Niclas!” A man with wavy brown hair and a stubble turned and eyed The Stranger over. This is my chance.
“Lord Commander! Ser Ulrich and Charlie are working with this wildling. They were trying to take me to their wildling camp for execution! We must cease them at once!” The Lord Commander’s face reddened with anger, he looked to his men.
“You heard the first Ranger, bind these traitors!” The men nodded, approaching the three with their weapons drawn. Ser Ulrich Dayne shook his head in disbelief.
“By my honour as a knight, as a ranger of the Night’s Watch. I am not traitor! The First Ranger is not who he claims! We are innocent!” The Lord Commander shook his head.
“Ser Ulrich Dayne, Sword of the Morning. You are convicted with treason, and sentenced to death. Lartel, kill him.” A young man looked back to the Lord Commander with confusion. Ser Ulrich Dayne backed away.
“I will not kill my brothers, but I will not be framed for a crime I did not commit. Others take you Rodrik!” Ser Ulrich quickly darted to his horse, black brothers chasing after him.
The silver haired man managed to mount and gallop away, though copped an arrow in his upper back as he escaped. The Lord Commander shook his head irritably and walked over to The Stranger.
“It’s good to see you are well Niclas. I am going to cut the chatter short, we were ambushed by wildlings and we are currently tracking them down. We believe we have found their current whereabouts, and I am fortunate now to have another commanding officer on the field. I was going to lead the assault myself, but now I am going to make that decision yours. I understand you must be eager to get back to the safety behind the Wall, and I can assure you we will be there soon. Though you must either lead this assault or protect those who are wounded back at our makeshift base. Make your decision now, we did not come out here on coincidence, and we fear the wildlings may be getting away.” The Stranger looked down to his sliced hands. It would be difficult for me to fight with these, not that I would bother anyway.
[Lead the assault against the wildlings] [Defend the camp]
[Lead the assault against the wildlings]