Chapter 28: Alliance at the Wall
The Wall loomed like a grim giant, its frost-cracked ice and stone casting a shadow that bit into Elias's bones, the air thick with smoke, damp stone, and unwashed men, snow stinging his face like needles. The bone's warning echoes , dread twisting like a knot in his gut. A frost-cracked flask leaked ale onto his glove, a micro-conflict as he cursed its chill sting. A worn leather strap chafed his shoulder, sore from hauling gear, while a chipped quill lay on a crate, ink smudging a scout's fingers. A tattered banner fluttered in the wind, a scuffed boot crunched snow, and a frayed cord snagged a guard's cloak, a world-in-motion pulse. A new sub-scene unfolded as a Free Folk scout tripped over a frayed cord, an Accidental Spill of ale sparking Corax's quip, "Clumsy feet, colder welcomes!" easing tension with rough laughter.
His party, Free Folk and recruits, faced hostility from the guards. Bowen Marsh, face like a dried apple, sneered, "Wildlings. They're not welcome here. Not ever."
[SYSTEM: SCANNING PATROL. BOWEN MARSH: VETERAN, HIGH HOSTILITY, LOYAL TO TRADITION.]
Corax perched on a rusted iron spur, cawing, "This welcome's colder than a wight's embrace!" eyes glinting with mischief, his feathers ruffling in the icy gust.
I'm no lord, just a man with a system, resolve wavering under Bowen's glare. Jon Snow arrived, face grim, voice earnest, snow dusting his cloak. "They're with me," he said, calming the guards. "They're here to help."
"We face the same shadow," Elias said, voice low, gripping a frost-cracked flask, hands numb, fingers trembling.
A new sub-scene emerged as a Free Folk warrior argued with a guard over camp space, voices rising, Jon's sharp nod silencing them, boosting morale. A recruit mended a frayed cord, a mini-payoff easing tensions. The office was smoky, cluttered, air heavy with wax and despair, a chipped quill scratching a scroll. Elias and Jon sat, tension thick, a worn leather strap creaking on Jon's arm.
"The Others are coming for us all," Elias said, voice earnest, throat tight with fear. "They don't feel pain. They don't die. They're a force of nature."
[SYSTEM: JON SNOW, HIGH INTEGRITY, LOW POLITICAL SKILL. BE DIRECT.]
What if I'm wrong? Elias thought, heart racing, revealing the DGS, his world, the Others' threat, risking trust. Jon's eyes widened, disbelief and hope warring, his breath visible in the cold. "My brothers doubt the threat," he said, voice honest, almost breaking. "They'd rather fight the wildlings than the dead."
"We'll make them see," Elias said, clutching a tattered banner, resolve hardening, though doubt lingered like frost.
A new sub-scene unfolded as a Watch scribe shared tales of ancient wights from Castle Black's library, his voice trembling, fueling hope, a mini-payoff binding them. A guard's scuffed boot crunched ice, sparking a brief argument, resolved by Jon's calm word. The Wall's icy mass loomed, dusk deepening, its shadow swallowing light. Elias projected Aeria's hologram, fields and Training Hall glowing, lords' skepticism shifting to awe, a chipped quill smudging a map.
"This city's our hope," Elias said, voice steady, the DGS's light warming his face.
The maester marveled, voice reverent, "A new age of knowledge," eyes gleaming, hands trembling with excitement. I'm no hero, but they need me, Elias thought, pride swelling despite aching shoulders. A scout reported wights in the mountains, dread flaring, a frost-cracked flask clinking. Elias offered aid, gripping a worn leather strap.
"They'll face our steel," Jon said, voice resolute, sword clinking against a scuffed boot.
Corax cawed, "Hope the ice doesn't snap those swords!" a Witty Retort sparking chuckles, easing fear. Tormund roared, "Steel's no good if it's frozen!" adding a Clumsy Misstep as he tripped over a tattered banner, laughter erupting. A new sub-scene emerged as lords shared tales of northern battles, strengthening the alliance, a mini-payoff fueling camaraderie. A frayed cord snagged Elias's sleeve, a micro-conflict sparking irritation, quickly resolved. The journey south loomed, spies and enemies a hook to Aeria's trials, urging Elias to shield his city, his heart heavy with duty.
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