Going well so far.

Beta reader: Eragong

Chapter 3: Glacier

Lord Commander Jeor Mormont sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair with a load creak as he looked across the wide desk at his First Ranger. Three strangers stood behind him, one looked human enough, but the other two most certainly did not. One had a jaundiced, almost golden skin tone, with pointed ears poking out of her hair now that she'd taken her hood down. The other's ears stood on top of her head, like that of a wolf; or, he supposed, like one of those big cats that apparently prowled the Summer Isles. Just to reinforce that image was the swishing tail that flicked back and forth behind her as she kept taking glances out of the window of his solar, looking down into the main courtyard.

Even the one that looked human carried himself oddly, and his equipment stood out almost as badly as his companions; metal darker than steel, with an almost crystalline aspect, not to mention the bone plates that hid beneath the other layer of metal.

"You are sure of what you saw, Stark?" He asked calmly, looking over the parchment that Benjen had transcribed his report onto. A verbal report was all well and good, but records were needed after all.

"Yes, Lord Commander. Wights. I stuck one through the throat myself, only for it to stand up like I'd cuffed it's ears instead," Benjen glanced behind him at the trio of strangers, "I'd have been dead, or worse, if not for these three."

"And you say that they appeared in a flash of light? This… magic… that you explained to me?" He glanced at another stack of parchments that detailed the strange abilities that Benjen had recounted, as well as the stranger's explanations of them. "This magic was able to defeat the wights that attacked you?"

Benjen nodded once, "Yes, they attacked us as we began to head back towards the Wall, one was taken down by arrow fire, momentarily," He glanced back at the cat-like woman, who scowled in response, "but they both fell quickly to fire. We didn't meet any others on our return."

Jeor nodded, placing the paper to one side, "No, just the Weeper. You sent one of his raiders back to Mance, to warn him," He leant forwards, placing his arms on the desk as he stared Benjen in the eye, "Do you think that was a good decision?"

Benjen didn't flinch, giving a single sharp nod, "Yes, Lord Commander." He said firmly.
Jeor stared at him for a moment longer before sitting back, returning Benjen's nod, "Good, I agree with you. We've had a raven from Eastwatch, Commander Pyke found some blue-eyed corpses outside his walls. His Maester had the good sense to advise he burn them. I fear we would have heard worse if he had not," He turned his attention to the golden-skinned woman, "You were the one who conjured the flames to kill the wights, yes? Can you teach it?"
The woman blinked, startled for a moment, before she placed her open hand against her heart and inclined her head, "The fundamentals of Magicka can be taught with some rapidity, and to throw fire is of the skill of a novice; but I have concerns. Your world is almost absent of magic, from Ranger Benjen's own words. I carry uncertainty that what I know may not be easily learnable by the peoples of this land."

Jeor grunted, "How much time would it take to try?"

The woman paused, "I should be able to determine if it can be taught in the span of two days. I believe if it can, I should be able to teach the bare fundamentals of the Art over the next three, provided that there are few interruptions."

"Five days then," Jeor nodded to himself, "After that, the three of you, and Stark here, are headed to Winterfell," He held out a neatly folded letter to Benjen, "Your brother is asking after you. King Robert is coming north, and he wishes for your attendance, as a member of the Watch, of course," Jeor waved a hand towards the window, "While you are there, you will alert the King, and your brother, as to what you have seen," He sighs, running a hand over his eyes, "It's in your words Stark, Winter Is Coming. Now, the four of you, be off with your business, I still have work to do here."

With those words, Jeor yanked a sheet of parchment towards him, beginning to peruse it, the dismissal implicit in his actions. Benjen rose quietly, and gestured for the other three to follow him out of the solar.

The party of four began the long climb down the staircase that led to the Lord Commander's solar, drawing odd looks from several black brother's going about their business. "What will you need to begin your tests, Lady Cae?" Benjen asked quietly as they reached the bottom of the stairs, beginning down a corridor that overlooked the castle's main hall.

"A simple open space would do, though I would prefer somewhere with suitable targets for practice," She replied, giving him a strange look, "I must ask, you have not referred to me as 'Lady' before now, what prompted this change?"

Benjen's voice quietened further as a steward moved past them, burdened with scrolls and parchments, "There are two sorts of people that take the black and become brothers of the Night's Watch. Men of honour, who wish to safeguard the people of Westeros, and criminals with no other choice, murderers, thieves, rapists. The latter far exceed the former, and discipline can be difficult at times. I believe that implying that you, and Lady M'rissi, are of noble birth may deter the more reprehensible sort, who would prefer to keep their heads on their shoulders."

Landon recoiled slightly, "Is that a possibility?" he asked coldly, glancing down towards the men eating in the hall below.

Benjen replied with a shrug, "It's not out of the question, it's best to be cautious. We should head to the training yard, that should have what Lady Cae needs for her tests."

After a murmur of agreement, the three foreigners followed after Benjen as he headed down a side corridor, moving out from the centre of Castle Black. M'rissi was the first to hear the clatter of wood on wood, punctuated by the booming yells of the master-at-arms.

"Get that blade up or you'll lose your head, you bloody fool!" A thin, aged man roared at one recruit, emphasising his words with a slap with the flat of his blade. The recruit yelped in pain as the metal hit his back, yanking his sword back up into a guard position as his opponent lunged forwards, their blades striking together with a sharp bang, even as the master-at-arms prowled past. "Pathetic, all of you! Boys that can't even hold a blade, it'll do the Watch a favour when some wildling bastard rams his spear down your throat. Cut off the dead wood, that's all you lot are, dead wood! Strike!"
The dozen recruits all struck forwards, the clatter of their blades echoing around the courtyard, momentarily drowning out their instructors curses and insults.

Benjen led his companions into the training yard, and the instructor spun to glare towards him, stalking forwards, "Rest, you idiots! Stark, you'd best have a good reason to be interrupting me. These shits aren't going to be any good anyway, but having the high and mighty First Ranger interrupting ain't gonna help any," He snarled as he approached, pausing several feet away. "Take your highborn friends on a tour somewhere else."

Benjen's face hardened into a passive visage as he shook his head, "Ser Thorne, the Lord Commander has given us orders to perform some tests, and this space is the best suited."

He glanced back towards Cae as she pointed towards the panting recruits, "They would be suitable for my initial investigations, if possible, First Ranger."

Benjen nodded, raising a hand to beckon the recruits over, but Thorne stepped to the side, blocking them from view, "First Ranger or not, Stark; I'm the master-at-arms, get out of my damned yard before I throw you out!" His grip on his sword tightened slightly, and the recruits paused, taking a few steps back as they watched the scene.

"Lord Commander's orders, Thorne, take it up with him. We've got work to do." Benjen strode forwards, pushing past Thorne, who quickly lowered his blade as Benjen walked through his reach, his face purpling as he slammed the weapon back into its sheath.

"We'll damn well see about this, ice dog." He hissed, shouldering past Landon and M'rissi as he stormed towards the entrance of the training yard, and into the corridor beyond.

With Thorne gone, the recruits moved forwards carefully, staring at the three strangers standing with Benjen. Benjen clapped his hands together, "Alright. The Lord Commander has asked Lady Cae," He gestured towards the elven woman, and the recruits turned to gape at her inhuman appearance. "To begin testing the men of the watch for unusual abilities. Lady Cae, if you wish to proceed?"

Cae inclined her head politely towards Benjen as she stepped forwards beside him, before beginning to speak in a soft, soothing tone, "I would ask that you do not worry yourselves unduly, black brothers; I have been tasked with testing you for possible aptitude in magicka channeling and usage." The recruits relaxed, nodding slowly with Cae's words, and Landon noticed a green shimmer around her hands as she slowly swept them around the courtyard, "If you could all line up before me, I can begin."

As the recruits began to line up, Benjen glanced at Cae, asking her quietly, "You're doing something to them, aren't you? They wouldn't be taking this so well otherwise."

She nodded as the line formed in front of her, "A simple calm spell, I feared that they might grow panicked, it will run its course in a few minutes, but by then, I expect the worst of the shock to have dulled."

Cae beckoned the first recruit forward; a short stout man, with dark hair and eyes. Cae carefully took hold of his right hand with her left, resting her thumb on the back of his hand; before placing her other thumb against his forehead, and closing her eyes. A few minutes passed as her brows furrowed in concentration, before she let out a breath, and released her grip. "There is magicka there, but it is buried deeply," With a gesture, she bid the man step aside, and beckoned the next, "This may take some time, but it appears promising, if we can find a natural talent."

It took Cae close to an hour to be fully satisfied with her results from the recruits; and she immediately set about drilling the two that showed potential in magicka control. Landon and M'rissi left Benjen supervising and decided to head to the great hall, hoping to get some food.

The hall itself was sparsely populated, with only a few brothers eating, and only one of the hearths lit for warmth. The steward at the pot nodded politely as Landon and M'rissi approached, quickly scooping stew into two bowls, before handing them over. Eyes followed them as they strode across the room to take a pair of seats against the far wall. The two made an unusual sight for Castle Black; Landon was clad in fine, though sturdy, grey furs; while M'rissi wore her relatively unadorned quilted jacket and leggings. Both still had weapons strapped to their hips, Landon carrying his dragonbone blade, while M'rissi sported a twinned set of glass daggers, leaving her inhuman features plainly visible to the men in the hall.

M'rissi started spooning the stew into her mouth as soon as she sat down, savouring the taste for a moment, before looking around the hall, "She does not like this place," She murmured quietly, sweeping her gaze over the soot-darkened ceiling and worn banners of the hall. "It is tired, and old, like a dead nord tomb, but still alive."

Landon nodded slowly in response, turning slightly to meet the gazes of the men who were still watching them, one by one the men turned back to their tasks, unwilling to match the intense gaze of the burly imperial. "It reminds me of some of the old forts in Skyrim, a relic of a previous era. Though I don't think Tamriel has anything quite as… imposing… as the Wall. The White-Gold Tower is comparable in height… but apparently this wall goes from the mountains to the coast," He pauses to consider, "From the map Benjen showed us, that's at least ninety leagues, maybe a bit more. I think the Dwemer would have been hard pressed to make anything quite this size."

M'rissi made a non-committal sound around a mouthful of stew, "They would have made it from metal, she thinks, not cold ice." She turned back to her bowl with a slight shiver, and Landon followed suit.

Cae leant back on the decrepit bench, closing her eyes as she began to rub her temples in an attempt to dissuade her growing headache. The last few days had been productive, and three of her initial group were showing a strong talent for the Art; one of them may even make a passable instructor, at least in the basics, after she moved on. Another six had enough potential to be taught, while the last three simply didn't have enough power for her to justify the time it would cost her; not with how limited her time truly was here. Her head pulsed again, and after a moment, she flexed her hand, letting warm golden light flow over her body, dulling the throbbing ache. I pushed myself a little far that time, she thought to herself. Today would be the last day of direct training she could give the black brothers, and she'd pushed herself hard to demonstrate all she could to them; manipulating and shaping her magicka for hours at a time. Her hand pulsed again, and she sighed, settling back against the bench.

The quiet hiss of steel on leather brought her out of her reverie, and her eyes snapped open. A short, dark-haired man stood before her, dagger drawn and pointed towards her neck as if daring her to try and move aside. She remained still, watching him with a sharpened gaze as he began to speak. "Stay right there," He hissed, stepping slightly closer, "I've got some questions for you. Why didn't you teach me? That was my meal ticket right there, wave my hands, make a few sparks, and I'm out of the training guard and into the nice quarters. The fuck do you think you are, taking that from me?"

Cae regarded him solemnly, slowly moving her hands to rest them, palms upwards, on her lap, "My time here is limited. While you do have magical potential, it was not strong enough for me to quickly teach, unlike some of your compatriots. I did what I could with the time I had."

He immediately snarled at her response, "I'm stronger than any one of them, and you know it! It's just like your lot to stomp down on mine. My blood's as blue as yours, better than any of those bloody peasants. Just because I'm a Storm, not a Penrose..." He stepped closer still, leaning in until Cae could smell the stink of his breath, "You're going to teach me right now, or I'm going to ask again with this," He twirled the knife in front of her nose with a laugh, "You don't need ears to teach, now, sho-" His words cut off as a green light burst from Cae's hands and enveloped him, locking his muscles in place. Cae slipped off of the side of the bench with exaggerated care, before pulling the knife from his hands. With that done, she struck him with another burst of green light, before turning to call down the corridor, "I require assistance!"

After a few moments, a pair of watchmen hurried down the corridor from a side room; slowing to a halt at the sight of Cae standing next to their paralysed compatriot, holding a knife by it's point. "What's going on here?" The first one asked, laying one hand on his own sheathed blade, while sweeping back his blonde hair with the other.

Cae turned slightly to gesture towards her attacker, "This man attempted to accost me with a knife," She extended the blade towards the two brothers, hilt first; the second brother quickly took it from her, "He was attempting to extort me for training, due to my having removed him from the group I was working with," Her head tilted slightly to one side, "If you could deal with him in whatever manner your order feels appropriate, I am afraid I must make my way to the courtyard before I am late. He will recover his mobility in a few moments."

With those last words, Cae strode forwards, past the two brothers, who quickly stepped aside out of shock. Cae was already around the corner before they had gathered their thoughts enough to take stock of the situation.

Landon looked up from the backpack he was loading as Cae stepped out into the courtyard; walking towards him at a quick pace. He frowned slightly as he straightened up, "Is everything alright?"

Cae shook her head slightly, scooping up a backpack that he had already finished with, "A failed student attempted to extort lessons from me. I believe it would be better for us to leave sooner rather than later."

Landon paled slightly, reaching down to hoist the last backpack over his shoulders, "Is he alive?" He glanced behind her at the closed door.

Cae shot him a flat look, "I am not Faralda, he is unharmed, and I handed him over to his brothers at arms, but if we do not wish to delay our expedition, we should leave quickly." She gestured towards Benjen and M'rissi, both of whom had slung their packs onto their backs, and were coming closer.

Landon gave her a quick nod, looking over at his other companions, "Let's be about it. people, It's going to be a long few days to Winterfell." Benjen nodded as M'rissi groaned, and the four of them passed through the gates and took to the road, just as the courtyard door opened behind them.

"We're headed straight down the Kingsroad, past Long Lake, and then it's almost a straight shot to Winterfell," Benjen told the three travellers as they trudged through the light snow towards the south. "We'd be faster with horses, but the Watch hasn't got enough to spare for a trip like this."

Landon nodded, then looked at Cae, "Do you feel up to casting a quick march?" She responded with a shake of her head, raising her hands to knead her temples with a slight grimace.

"I'll handle it then, you've been busy these last few days." Landon told her, raising a gauntleted hand. He snapped his fingers open and a translucent green crystal appeared, floating over his palm. Benjen watched, fascinated, only to stagger as his steps began to consume larger and larger tracts of the Kingsroad; he quickly regained his footing, tearing his attention away from the crystal to look around in amazement as Castle Black shrank into the distance, trees flying past them as if they were astride horses at a full gallop. "You should stop practicing that witchcraft." M'rissi complained, rubbing her shoulders as she strode alongside the rest of the group, Benjen glanced back at her as she spoke, watching for a moment as she practically glided over the snow, barely leaving a hint of her passing, even as she loudly complained about her fur.

They travelled for a few hours at that speed, before Landon released the magic, rolling his shoulder to work out some of the stiffness. The snow had given way to the short dark grass that covered most of the North, thankfully they had passed no travellers on their way south, Benjen was sure his brother wouldn't appreciate the party scaring his smallfolk to death by flying down the road at speed.

They continued down the road while Landon recovered his expended magicka. M'rissi and Cae had put their hoods up, concealing most of their inhuman features, letting them pass by the few travellers they encountered with only a few stares at their attire, rather than fear or panic at their appearances.

Benjen turned to look at Landon as they walked, watching the imperial march onwards for a moment, before breaking the silence, "You three never really told me what your homeland is like," He observed, "We've got a long walk ahead."

Landon inclined his head in agreement, "We come from a land called Tamriel, to be more precise, the Cyrodilic Empire; apart from Cae, She's from th-"

"Cyrodilic Empire," Cae cut Landon off, shooting him a short glare, "We've discussed this previously. The Thalmor are a cancer to the Isles; as far as I am concerned the Summerset Isles remain part of the Dragon Empire," Benjen started at that, but Cae continued, "The Thalmor are a rebellion of fools, and nothing more." Cae increased her pace slightly, pulling ahead of the others as she fell silent.

The group continued in silence for a few minutes, before Benjen stepped closer to Landon, "What is the Dragon Empire?" He asked quietly, a hint of worry in his tone, as he looked forwards at Cae's back.

"It's another name for the Cyrodilic Empire, an older name, from when the Septim dynasty ruled. They were Dragonborn, like me." Landon explained quietly, "They fell at the beginning of the Oblivion Crisis, assassinated by the Mythic Dawn cult."

Benjen nodded solemnly, taking a moment to consider, "And the Oblivion Crisis?"

Landon grimaces, "That is somewhat harder to explain… The Mythic Dawn assassinated the Septim dynasty, which weakened the magics protecting Tamriel from Oblivion."

As he paused for breath, Cae spoke up from ahead, "Akatosh, the dragon god of time, created the artifacts known as the Dragonfires which protected Tamriel for as long as the Amulet of Kings, another artifact, was worn by one with dragon blood. When they were slain and a successor was unclear, the Dragonfires grew dark, and Mehrunes Dagon, the Daedric Prince of destruction invaded Tamriel with his forces, laying waste to cities and devastating entire regions. He was defeated at great cost, the death of the last Septim heir and the continent was devastated. This led to the weakening and then fragmentation of the Empire. This led to the invasion of Morrowind, the ceding of Hammerfell and the Aldmeri Dominion, and even civil war in Cyrodiil itself, though the province was eventually unified under the new Mede dynasty."

Cae fell silent, and Benjen nodded slowly, processing the information. "Magic really changes a world…" He murmured, the others made noises of quiet agreement as they continued onwards, leaving the Wall behind them.

So the Watch begin to learn about Magicka, or, well, what they can with such a limited amount of time; and since it's the wall, there's always got to be that one idiot who pushes things.