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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
|Word Count: 11,760|
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬. Yet as they neared the black fortress, he'd feel the medallion quiver and shake around his neck. Staring up to the peak of the Wall, he knew that this thing was truly made from magic. It made sense since he doubted the First Men could have made this on their own, not even a thousand years of work. By the time they were nearing the walls of the castle, he had to grip the medallion as it rattled intensely, trying to ease the trinket's reaction.
Castle Black itself was an old structure, dating back to the building of the Wall itself. The black stoned fortifications looked fitting for that claim, the place seeming to be in a constant state of reconstruction from what Geralt could tell. It showed how the Watch could barely maintain their base of operations with the limited supply of men, much less ones with the required skills to do such repairs. Yet he could tell this castle had a strong history to it, one that wouldn't yield even in this state.
The trio neared the heavy wooden gates which opened up from within as the guards called out their arrival. With the way open, the group could see into the large yard of the fortress, filled with recruits who were busy being trained and drilled. The gathered men were a mix of ages, yet mostly young to middle age from Geralt's estimates. They were dressed in the black leather uniforms of the Watch, simple garb that marked their low rank. The few rangers that drilled them wore more of studded leather armor and had an impressive black cloak, the design having almost a feathered look to it.
The Witcher took his time examining the courtyard, noting the surrounding walls all connected in one large walkway. There were only a few stairways or ramps up to this walkway, yet overall the design offered plenty of distance for archers to pick off attackers. At the far end was a platform that viewed over the yard and lead to a towering wooden structure, lift that went up to the top of the Wall. At the stage, two men watched the group arrive. Geralt recognized one being Benjen Stark, Ned's last surviving brother who had joined the Night's Watch before the Rebellion. Beside him was an older man, with short white hair and beard which was quite well kept. The outfit he wore was the finest leather armor and cloak out of the group, a show of his commander rank. His sharp eyes scanned the yard and then over the trio. Benjen leaned in to speak with the commander, who nodded and said something back.
By now Geralt's group would stop at the small stables to tie their horses while the Benjen and the Nights Watch Commander approached them. The First Ranger smiled as he looked to Jon. "Good to see you here Jon. I take the ride wasn't too rough?"
Jon chuckled, sharing a short hug with his uncle. "Can say we had some trouble on the road...although Geralt be best to detail that." He answered back.
