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Post by Gandalf on Aug 7, 2020 7:53:14 GMT -5
 Four hundred Black Brothers left the Wall, the greatest number of them passing into the true north in a hundred years. More than even Commander Mormont's Great Ranging, and even more still when Lord Snow's men and Chief Tormund's Free Folk were taken into the account, the wild men who knew these lands that would make up their vanguard. The rangers were mostly green boys, by the standards of the Watch, men of the Reach and mercenaries from beyond the Narrow Sea that knew little of winter. They were horsemen, given sturdy garrons and northern mares that were used to rock and snow. A few veterans were sprinkled here and there, whomever they could spare, trackers and rangers that had spent most of their lives in the woods Beyond the Wall. Even with them, it was dangerous. No men lived in these woods any longer. Whatever was left of Mance's host was now on the right side of the Wall, dead, or soon to be, unless they were made to see reason.
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Post by FieldMarshal Bismarck on Aug 7, 2020 8:09:36 GMT -5
Rickon Umber joined with a party of two hundred of Last HEarts finest.
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Post by AxBrew Sunster on Aug 7, 2020 20:46:08 GMT -5
Randyll rode near the front of the column, led only by a handful of rangers and a few dozen of the free folk scouting ahead of them. He had procured a greatsword from the armory of the Watch, not that it would do him much good. It simply felt better to have it slung across his back as he rode to war, even if the dragonglass dagger at his belt would be more useful. His fine sable cloak hung over his shoulders and the flanks of his horse. He wore a coat of mail, and plate armor over that. He was unsure what defense it would provide against the dead who walked again, but one could not be too careful. Jon Snow was nearby as they rode, and he turned to the young lord.
"What chance do you think we have of convincing these folk to come with us? And what are the chances we beat the walkers there?"
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Post by oznerol on Aug 8, 2020 3:17:38 GMT -5
Randyll rode near the front of the column, led only by a handful of rangers and a few dozen of the free folk scouting ahead of them. He had procured a greatsword from the armory of the Watch, not that it would do him much good. It simply felt better to have it slung across his back as he rode to war, even if the dragonglass dagger at his belt would be more useful. His fine sable cloak hung over his shoulders and the flanks of his horse. He wore a coat of mail, and plate armor over that. He was unsure what defense it would provide against the dead who walked again, but one could not be too careful. Jon Snow was nearby as they rode, and he turned to the young lord. "What chance do you think we have of convincing these folk to come with us? And what are the chances we beat the walkers there?"Said Snow, grabbing the reins. "They came from their dwellings well beyond the Haunted Forest to cross the Wall and seek shelter within its magic wards"He added. "And we won't do anything close to defeating them. At least not here, not now. We must take as many men and women and children as possible back South and, at best, make sure the Dead are stalled for a time. Nothing else"
The crow perched in his shoulder cawed.
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 8, 2020 5:54:18 GMT -5
“M’lords!”
Osgrey drew his palfrey to a halt, the shaggy northern beast complying after only a short tug on the reins. They had traded for them with the mountain clans at the advice of Lord Snow. A few of those queer but hardy people had ventured with them north of the Wall, their snow-shoes and thick furs making light of the heavy snow. They and the wildlings were hardly concerned about the cold at all, whilst Osgrey’s Reachmen were shivering their balls off already. One knight had already lost his ears to frost-bite.
”What do you see, Ulmer?” Ser Eustace shouted to the tracker, a former man of the Kingswood brotherhood and the finest archer on the Wall. He was scouting for the left column of their host, the men Osgrey had picked from Westwatch to join him on the ranging. He might have left Ulmer in command there, but the man knew the Haunted Forest too well to be left behind.
“Dead wildlings, m’lord!”
Osgrey spurred his palfrey to stand alongside the ageing ranger. There were ten bodies, maybe more, arranged into a macabre pattern they did not know. They remained at a distance as a few wolves sniffed around the corpses, a pack of still living beasts led by their one-eyed chieftain. Even they kept their distance, their leader raising his snout into the air and seemingly recognising a scent.
”We should burn them.” Stated Osgrey, with a sideways glance at his sworn brother.
“Aye. But make sure they’re really dead first.” Ulmer noticed the reluctance of the wolves, who skirted around the edge of the former wildling encampment.
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Post by oznerol on Aug 9, 2020 15:39:57 GMT -5
"They're close"
Said Jon, from the saddle, as the silent Ghost bared his teeth. The large beast subdued the much smaller wolves into submission with little, merely a growl and the self-confident stare of two burning eyes. The animals knew their king when they saw it.
"Albeit with this cold one hardly can know since when these have been there, the rot can't set in"
He moved with unease, grabbing the reins tightly.
"These queer designs... They're the White Walkers. Eerie monuments to their own wicked ways. The wildlings have grown to fear these displays, it only means death... Double the watch and tell the men to be alerted"
Jon looks to Ulmer.
"Are there any tracks?"
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 9, 2020 16:17:19 GMT -5
“A few, milord, in a dozen directions.”
Stated the Ranger, after a long look at the cold hard ground. Even from this distance he could see the footprints, he wasn’t a good archer just from luck alone.
“They... Don’t look right. No normal man walks like that.”
It looked like the legs had dragged along the floor rather than rose and fell, like a man with two clubbed feet. Osgrey strained to see what the ranger was seeing, but could not. His hand rested idly around the comforting hilt of his sword.
”Cut off their heads then burn them, I say.”
After a nudging from one of the senior rangers, a few green boys edged forwards with swords and torches, waiting for the final word from either Lord Snow or Lord Tarly.
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Post by oznerol on Aug 9, 2020 16:24:36 GMT -5
“A few, milord, in a dozen directions.” Stated the Ranger, after a long look at the cold hard ground. Even from this distance he could see the footprints, he wasn’t a good archer just from luck alone. “They... Don’t look right. No normal man walks like that.” It looked like the legs had dragged along the floor rather than rose and fell, like a man with two clubbed feet. Osgrey strained to see what the ranger was seeing, but could not. His hand rested idly around the comforting hilt of his sword. ”Cut off their heads then burn them, I say.”After a nudging from one of the senior rangers, a few green boys edged forwards with swords and torches, waiting for the final word from either Lord Snow or Lord Tarly. Said Jon, who was left brooding. He made a gesture with a hand clad in a glove for the men to burn the corpses. "Scout the surrounding area, but don't dither or stay for long close to this... Carnage. Take good horses. At first notice come back, don't play hero"He pointed at the bodies.
"Tonight we're placing fires around camp. No-one strays from the perimeter and I want archers with dragonglass arrows at the ready"Jon leaned on the saddle's pommel. "If you find any hint, report back to me"
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 9, 2020 16:51:36 GMT -5
With Lord Snow having given the nod, a few men approached the scene of death and destruction. The bodies were arranged in a swirl, unlike anything the men had seen before, empty eyes gazing blankly at the sky with entrails hanging out or throats cut open by blades sharper than any living metal. As the rest of the host marched on, Osgrey and Ulmer remained to oversee the bloody work, a party seeing to the dead whilst the rest rode off to scout the woods. One man knelt down to finish the job of the Walkers for certain, only for a cry to pierce the air as he was grasped at the throat with frozen hands, stabbing the dead flesh in vain with a dagger until the Wight crushed his throat with a grip like iron. A man who was mere moments ago full of life rose to join them, his former brothers struggling in turn with the risen dead. One lit his opponent on fire only to find his companion’s sword in his back. A shambling corpse grabbed Ulmer in a wintery vice, having risen from a hiding place in waist deep snow. He was the largest man Eustace had ever seen, save for the Mountain.
”For the Watch!”. Cried Osgrey, releasing the archer to fight another day by slicing the head of the frozen wildling clean off with a brutal backhand cut. He swallowed his fear and spurred his horse onwards to ride down another, hacking and slicing all about him as his new sworn brothers joined the skirmish. They made short work of them once the surprise had worn off, fire being put to use to drive back the foul sorcery of winter that had brought them to life. But they still lost a handful of recruits already at no gain of their own, their ‘victory’ being only that the dead would remain as such. At least they had a few horses spare.
”We should return to the rest.” Grunted Eustace, sliding his sword back into the scabbard. There was no need to clean the steel, at least, for the blood of the dead had frozen in their veins long ago . Ulmer swiftly nodded, hands rubbing his throat where the Wight had tried to crush his windpipe between its arms. He coughed, and spluttered, unable to respond. ”With any luck, we might catch up with Umber within the hour.” They would wait, at least, for the riders to return. A few hours passed in the bitter cold. None did. As dusk began to settle, Eustace reluctantly abandoned those he had sent off to scout to rejoin the main contingent and report the bad news to his commanders.
“The dead rose, my Lord. Gods help us. They rose. Our scouts did not return, they either deserted or...”
“Dead.” Said Ulmer, eyes wide. The man was still rubbing his bruised throat. Eustace looked back at Snow.
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Post by oznerol on Aug 9, 2020 17:26:14 GMT -5
With Lord Snow having given the nod, a few men approached the scene of death and destruction. The bodies were arranged in a swirl, unlike anything the men had seen before, empty eyes gazing blankly at the sky with entrails hanging out or throats cut open by blades sharper than any living metal. As the rest of the host marched on, Osgrey and Ulmer remained to oversee the bloody work, a party seeing to the dead whilst the rest rode off to scout the woods. One man knelt down to finish the job of the Walkers for certain, only for a cry to pierce the air as he was grasped at the throat with frozen hands, stabbing the dead flesh in vain with a dagger until the Wight crushed his throat with a grip like iron. A man who was mere moments ago full of life rose to join them, his former brothers struggling in turn with the risen dead. One lit his opponent on fire only to find his companion’s sword in his back. A shambling corpse grabbed Ulmer in a wintery vice, having risen from a hiding place in waist deep snow. He was the largest man Eustace had ever seen, save for the Mountain. ”For the Watch!”. Cried Osgrey, releasing the archer to fight another day by slicing the head of the frozen wildling clean off with a brutal backhand cut. He swallowed his fear and spurred his horse onwards to ride down another, hacking and slicing all about him as his new sworn brothers joined the skirmish. They made short work of them once the surprise had worn off, fire being put to use to drive back the foul sorcery of winter that had brought them to life. But they still lost a handful of recruits already at no gain of their own, their ‘victory’ being only that the dead would remain as such. At least they had a few horses spare. ”We should return to the rest.” Grunted Eustace, sliding his sword back into the scabbard. There was no need to clean the steel, at least, for the blood of the dead had frozen in their veins long ago . Ulmer swiftly nodded, hands rubbing his throat where the Wight had tried to crush his windpipe between its arms. He coughed, and spluttered, unable to respond. ”With any luck, we might catch up with Umber within the hour.” They would wait, at least, for the riders to return. A few hours passed in the bitter cold. None did. As dusk began to settle, Eustace reluctantly abandoned those he had sent off to scout to rejoin the main contingent and report the bad news to his commanders. “The dead rose, my Lord. Gods help us. They rose. Our scouts did not return, they either deserted or...”
“Dead.” Said Ulmer, eyes wide. The man was still rubbing his bruised throat. Eustace looked back at Snow.There was such a malice and ill-intelligence behind all that, Jon knew, purposedly or not, whatever lead the Dead had a dark twisted mind, and such games and ambushes would eventually drag the men down, to the mud. Snow even killed a wight with a single gesture of his hand, the sword cutting it like butter, the thing was little for the Valyrian blade. And Ghost helped dispatch the other ones, using its teeth to tear limbs and heads off. But, he knew better and didn't swallow any of that rotten cursed meat. "I told you, Osgrey, this was no tall tale told in inns by drunken sailors"And as Snow feared, no-one came. More men, good men, wasted. But he had to try, going blind was even worse. "Aye, they're dead... Gods"He remained pensive for a moment. The Old Bear would have done better, he was old and able, resolute. But he was long dead. Snow looked at his own hands, thinking. "The night is theirs. We find a spot to raise the camp, now. We double, triple the watch if needed, every man has to sleep with a hand on the sword. Lit up a circle around the camp. Let's get to work, I want these fireplaces ready. And make one big and large, they fear fire, these horrors, and we will need as much as we can get to keep them at bay"
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Post by AxBrew Sunster on Aug 10, 2020 6:04:44 GMT -5
"We prepare to fight with fire and with Dragonglass. Let no man who takes a watch be without a dragonglass weapon or stray from the light of our flames," Tarly added to Jon's commands as the men began to come to a halt, ready to do what they could to establish a defensible camp.
He paused for a few moments, rigid atop his horse as he looked upon the men, and cast his gaze into the dark depths of the woods.
"If we do come under attack, every man here must be prepared to set fire to the corpse of any brother that falls, lest their hands be turned against us."
His face was grim and hard as he spoke, and his tone loud and commanding.
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 10, 2020 9:28:05 GMT -5
Perhaps they were fortunate. Perhaps the Walkers found the living more prepared than they had anticipated. Nothing came through the eerie quiet that night in the Haunted Forest, though it did not give any man peace of mind. Most scarcely slept, the lucky ones managing a few hours in the murderous cold. The only sound was the howling of wolves, likely the pack that Ghost had found, but there were more echoing in the distance in answer to their song. Jon would dream through his wolf’s eyes that night, hearing the song of his litter mate from the far north as he had many times before. Osgrey managed only an hour of restless sleep before dawn came, if one could call it that. The sun rose for but a few hours, pale and robbed of all warmth, before it would die again and herald the near-endless night. Daytime was their safety, he knew that much from the folk stories and childhood tales, that while there was light and warmth in the air no creature of cold and darkness would trouble them. There was no time for dreaming, or even nightmare, for he already lived in a waking one every moment.
”Get them up.” The Reachman commanded to his vacant companions, rubbing the dust from his darkened eyes. Every muscle ached from cold and exertion, the thick furs barely keeping them alive. He pulled his hood about his ears to shield them from the cold, rubbing them with gloved hands to get the warmth back into them. It even hurt to piss, and he was surprised to see that the liquid didn’t freeze as soon as it left his body. Some joked that men had lost their members to the frost, and Osgrey did not doubt that such japes would soon come true. For breakfast they ate the same as yesterday, and every day before that - a hunk of stale bread and some dry meat to chew on. Cow or sheep or horse, it did not matter anymore. He prayed that they would return to the Wall or die before it ran out.
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Post by FieldMarshal Bismarck on Aug 10, 2020 10:26:42 GMT -5
Having lead the rearguard, Rickon Umber was late to the party. Alas now the host was at its full strenght but at what cost? Seeking out Lord Snow and Osgrey Rickon asked
"What happened?"
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Post by Gandalf on Aug 10, 2020 12:11:29 GMT -5
”The dead, Umber. They rose, and are most likely following us.” Osgrey rubbed his hands together. It was beginning to dawn on him that leaving the safety of the Wall was perhaps a mistake, but Snow was right in that any man left alive Beyond the Wall would soon be an extra soldier for the Walkers if they did not bring them south. It would mean cowardice and dishonour to turn back now. The men had risen and were preparing to move out, awaiting only the orders from Snow or Tarly.
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Post by FieldMarshal Bismarck on Aug 10, 2020 16:05:18 GMT -5
Umber exhaled shaprly before walking off, ordering his men to burn the dead without hesitation. Death would not arise to kill Umber from his back he thought to himself.
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