Game Of Thrones... With A Twist

A Clash of Kings - Chapter 10

<Evening, Foothills of the Fist of the First Men, North of the Haunted Forest, Beyond the Wall...>

The members of the Great Ranging of the Nights Watch were finally reaching a fortifiable position north of the Haunted Forest as one Jeor Mormont spoke, "He's not here yet. He's have seen us, blown the horn."

"When will he come?" Asked the young steward of the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch.

"The Halfhand does things in his own time." Mormont answered his steward's question calmly, even with all the trudging through the snow.

"My uncle told me stories about him." Jon commented on his small knowledge of the legendary Qhorin Halfhand.

"Most of them are true." Mormont commented grimly.

"I heard the Halfhand spent half of last winter beyond the Wall." Jon probed... only to receive a stunning answer, "The whole winter. He was north of the Skirling Pass when the snows came. Had to wait for the thaw."

"So it is possible for someone to survive out here on their own." Jon probed cautiously. 

"Well, possible for the Halfhand." The Old Bear answered when it came to regards with his most experienced ranger.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Gilly would love it here." One Samwell Tarly said with a slight lovesick expression, much to the annoyance of Grenn, Pyp and Dolorous Edd.

"There's nothing more sickening than a man in love." Dolorous Edd stated as both he and Grenn turned to their right... and caught sight of the imposing peaks that were supposed to be the basecamp of the Nights Watch.

<Half an hour later, Fist of the First Men, North of the Wall...>

The Nights Watchmen were busy setting up their potential basecamp north of the Wall, sleds with supplies being stockpiled whilst their steeds were lined in a row. 

Atop the Fist of the First Men, they had an excellent view of every corner of the land, ensuring that they would be able to see any enemies incoming from miles away.

"About time you did something." "At least you'll keep warm." Two Nights Watchmen commented as Samwell set up a small fireplace before looking around in bookish wonder.

"The Fist of the First Men. Think of how old this place is. Before the Targaryens defeated the Andals, before the Andals took Westeros from the First Men." Sam exclaimed in bookish wonder... before Dolorous Edd reined in on his parade. "Before I die, please, stop talking."

Sam paid the sour brother no heed.

"Thousands and thousands of years ago, the First Men stood here where we're standing all through the long night." Sam exclaimed before he asked excitedly, "What do you think they were like, the First Men?"

"Stupid. Smart people don't find themselves on places like this." Dolorous Edd answered, and Jon was thankful that Ed was nowhere nearby or even remotely near.

The Wild Wolf was insanely proud to be off the blood of the First Men, if nothing else.

Grenn slightly laughed at Edd's jape... only for Jon's sullen answer to kill the amusement.

"I think they were afraid. I think they came here to get away from something. And I don't think it worked." Jon's grim response was more true then he realized as he looked northward, towards the icy landscape further north, where the darkest myths and legends were said to reside.

There was suddenly a loud horn blown in the distance, only once, gaining all the attention of the Nights Watch.

"Wildlings?" Grenn asked with a hand on his sword hilt.