It was a crisp summer morning with clear skies and a pleasant scent of pine and wood smoke in the air, Brandon, now known as The Builder through out known world was on his knees before the weeping face of the Old Gods in the godswood of the castle he himself raised with sweat, blood and magic. His quest of last five decades to ensuring that men would never forget the reason for the Wall, the Ancient Enemy, is about to come to fruition and he was here to beg gods for their favor, he had considered many possibilities during his quests, drove himself to distraction, even neglected his duties to his people, his first idea was to leave a record of his life, in stories and in stone, but the First Men didn't have a written language for record keeping before they came to westeros and The Singers didn't have use for much of record keeping when the gods themselves were their witness and any greenseer can look in to past, present and sometimes future, so Brandon gathered wisest among his people and The Singers to create letters for the First Men to use based on Runes of Power the Singers taught to First Men after The Pact was signed, their collaboration bore fruit after two years of relentless work, they managed to simplify Runes, which are complicated, need to be precise and have a specific meaning unto themselves, to letters which represent particular sounds for the words of Old Tongue, after finishing their work, Brandon himself took up his chisel and hammer to carve the History of his people into walls of the Throne Room of Winterfell , of the Singers, of Gaints and Ice Wyrms and his own personal history, this took another year as he would not allow another to do this, his bride, a beautiful Singer known among men simply as Ash, asked him
" Why must you do this, my love, you have stone carvers in your employ, you only need ask I can engrave this with in a afternoon with magic, surely you can see, this need not be done by you, you have other duties as a Magnar, as a father?"
The usual serious face of her husband became grim, his grey eyes dark and stormy and his expression a stone cold mask for a moment, before tension leeching out of his shoulders and his expression replaced by weariness and a flicker of fear in his eyes, he replied, " You may not understand me, my love, but this is the greatest duty I can do to my people and our children, since this fear of forgetfulness of men took root in my heart, I never once knew a full nights rest, not for lack of trying as you know, I wake with fear in my heart, and I sleep with fear in my heart, let me do this to put that fear to rest, once and for all " and went back to work. With all his duties it took Brandon a years time to finish the work, he imbued magic in to Walls so that they may never fade and to make the Walls stronger, after finishing his work, he was happy, he pit his fear to rest and took up his duties to his people with vigor, making sure the prosperity of his people and happiness of his family, for next fifteen years he was blessed with two more sons and a daughter, making him a proud father of three sons and a daughter, but this happiness was not to last, when Boltons, self styled Red Kings grew jealous of The Starks prosperity, they attacked dead of night after a long winter by coercing a gate gaurd by threat of flaying in his family alive, they managed to kill most of wall gaurds before one brave soul rung the alarm, giving a chance for resistance, but this came a bit too late for his wife and heir when they were slaughtered in their beds by assassins through windows, Brandon mounted a fierce resistance through his rage and grief and cornered Bolton men in the Throne Room, knowing he was dead anyway, in a last act of spite, The Red King, destroyed the carving of Brandon on the wall along with The Winter Throne and many of Brandons men and injuring Brandon himself by magic using his own life and lives of his men as fuel. After recovering from his injuries and taking care of his family affairs, Brandon raised an army and laid siege to Dreadfort after defeating sallies from Dreadfort again and again and annihilating army gathered to lift the siege, Dreadfort surrendered due to lack of food reserves after a long winter, after putting every male above thirteen to sword and emptying half the treasury and confiscated a big chunk of lands of Boltons near Winterfells lands Brandon withdrew to Winterfell. After learning vigilance from his mistakes he put his territory in order, took his dities as a Magnar and a Father with more grim resolution, even while turning over his failure to ensure his legacy in his head. After that he decided his answer to be in magic, he insisted upon his three remaining children marry among The Singers so that magic may breed true in their blood, that gift of Warg and Greenseer be consistent in his blood, before turning back to the problem of remembrance and forgetfulness, what he needed was a spell which is tied to his blood, passes on his memory, and can perpetuate without losing its potency. With that last thought he felt as if struck by lightning for being a fool and not seeing this earlier, Oaths of The Night's Watch, are part of just such a spell, this is his answer, Oaths, for the next three decades he did extensive research and designed such a spell, so he changed the World.