Eastwatch-by-the-Sea

Ranger Alon Cerwyn

As the third son of House Cerwyn stood on the ramparts of the keep, he looked down at the men boarding the ships docked at bay.

Alon could not help but once more feel despair for the massacre to come.

That was not all he felt as the man felt as he watched the ships. So many thoughts and feelings the man could not even begin to make sense of them.

Despair.

Anger.

Fear.

Hope.

Alon had stopped heeding it any mind as he resigned himself to doing his duty as a Watcher on the Wall.

While he would not be departing with the ships, he too would be partaking in the slaughter that was to come.

Commander Stone had ordered that he would be joining the host assembled by Lord-Commander Umber for the Great Ranging that had been called. Most of the men had already made camp north of the wall and had only waited on word from the scouts to start marching.

The same scouts that returned that morning with news.

Ragnar Redmane had marched his forces from the city to fight the Bloodhair Clan along the Antler.

This along with the information that ships carrying Hardhome's flag was spotted sailling south with Braavosi ships escorting them made it clear that the wildlings sent their ships back to essos for trade.

This convinced the Umber the time to move was now.

Hardhome was without a fleet and without an army.

The City would be more vulnerable than it ever was since coming to the Lord-Commander's attention.

So, they would be marching soon.

And so, the Ranger made his way from the keep towards the tunnel beneath the Wall that was guarded by Eastwatch and soon emerged into the wild lands north of the Wall.

As he walked past the tents of his black brothers, he could feel something in the air. The men seemed excited at the thought of the battle to come, not realizing there would be no battle.

Only slaughter.

The young man seemed to be plagued by these thoughts while walking past tents that held the containers of oil and pitch normally used by the Night's Watch during sieges against the Wall.

'Just keep walking' The man thought as he tried to keep his thoughts from the people that shared their magic to heal him.

"The same people I now march to end" Alon muttered to himself as he kept walking past black brothers as he made his way to where he knew his own men would be.

And soon while walking he could see the ships making their way past the Wall towards the eastern coast of Storrold's Point -all the way from the war camp.

They would lay in wait for their prize- Hardhome.

Alon had been privy to the war plans before the rest of them- as he was the leader of the Rangers on Eastwatch, so he knew well what the Lord-Commander planned.

A night attack targeting the city gates to lure the defenders away from the harbor and gather most of them at the walls. Once this was done, trebuchets would launch tar and oil towards the wooden walls and send their defenders to the seven hells. The fire would then signal the fleet hidden under the cover of dark on the coast and the attack on the harbor would commence. The people of Hardhome would have nowhere to go but towards a burning fire or castle forged steel.

And whoever survived the battle between the wildling armies would march to Hardhome and find only the torched remains and not a single soul to tell the tale.

And the wildlings, being the superstitious creatures that they are, would once more believe the place accursed- halting any rebuilding efforts.

And despite Alon's protesting the plan morally he had to admit it was well thought out.

Simple and brutal.

"You should stop that. I can see the thoughts raging in your head" Tanner said to Alon as he walked towards the fire where some of his rangers had gathered. They all knew Alon's own feelings on their march.

"Nothing to do about it now, best not to think too hard about it" The older man told his leader.

"It's still a waste, I feel. I was with the last scouts. I saw those walls and the buildings beyond." Another of his men named Dirk said.

"Aye, and they belong to the wildlings" Tanner shot back.

"Why not take it then? We have southern outposts, why can't we have northern ones also? Why burn Hardhome?" Dirk asked Tanner, seeming not much concerned about the lives they were about to reap.

"The Gift was granted to the Wall by other kingdoms, not taken. It is against our vows to take land." Alon said to the young crownlander that had been with the watch for more than four years.

"I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory" Alon recited to them all around the fire. The Ranger seemed to be trying to find comfort in his own words.

"These are the vows we all swore. And none adhere to these vows more than Lord-Commander Umber" The Cerwyn said to his men.

"There'll be no glory to be had. We will be fighting children, women and the decrepit. And we will slaughter them." The ranger finished his speech, and everyone was quiet, as they thought about Alon's words.

"I don't know these wildlings, but Tanner said they saved you Alon. That they traded- we've traded before with peaceful wildlings in Eastwatch, why can't we do so with these people?" asked Donnel this time.

"They are a threat Donnel, that is why. They have an army. They can bypass the wall in numbers using their ships should they desire. Smugglers and slavers are easy enough to deal with, but Eastwatch would fail to contain a naval invasion" Alon repeated the reasoning Commander Stone gave him when he himself protested againts the plans.

But they did put things in perspective for Alon- should Hardhome invade the north, they would be powerless.

As a son of the North, that is unacceptable to Alon.

So, the Ranger would do his duty and follow his vows even if everything in his bones told him the sins he would be committing, would condemn him to all hells.

"So, what do you want us to do then Cerwyn? Murder women and children!" Martyn Flowers yelled at Alon.

The Reach bastard had been silent up till that point. He had been a recruit that had voluntarily made his vows just moons ago.

But his words struck a nerve with Alon.

The Ranger himself wished that he could disobey the orders he was given. That he could be as naïve as the boy in front of him.

"Aye, bastard! If that is what our oaths demand, then the only mercy left to give is to make their deaths quick!" The man roared at greenboy.

And there was silence once more around the fire.

"Fire is not a quick death" Martyn Flowers whispered harshly he looked toward the campfire.

A whisper that was heard by all and refuted by none.

Storrold's Point

Lord-Commander Beron Umber

The march had been surprisingly quick, and the men were preparing for night to fall.

For the battle to come.

'But then again, most of the men are with Stone on the fleet. Smaller armies move faster' the Umber thought as he waited for the hour of the wolf along with the thousand men behind him before crossing the hills that would reveal Hardhome at the tip of Storrold's Point.

The Lord-Commander had a long enmity with the wildlings, that far preceded his vows with the watch.

He was a child when the King-Beyond-the-Wall, Raymund Redbeard invaded the north. With his own father and brother away fighting the cunts, it was Beron who took petitions from smallfolk in Last Hearth. It was he who listened to the stories of heartbreak and devastation wrought by cunts that could only steal, murder and rape.

It was then that he stopped being a child and learnt to hate.

But soon the Drunken Giant and Lord Artos Stark took care of the so-called King. And even then, it cost them the Stark of Winterfell.

It was also what led Beron to the Night's Watch.

His father and Lord Stark were less than pleased with the Watch, not that Beron blamed them. He himself would have taken Musgood's head if he were an Umber bannermen that had been so careless with his duties.

But Musgood wasn't and never would be.

It was a reminder to the North of the importance of good men in the Watch.

It was this reminder that led to Beron and many other northerners deciding to join the order.

His brother's line was secured by Beron's nephews and the Umber wanted to do something important with his time. So, he swore off women and lands and did his best to better the Watch.

Admittedly he owed much of the current strength of the watch to Bloodraven. The Royal Bastard had used his southern allies to strengthen it to the point that the Watch could call on five thousand brothers when Beron won the election after the Lord-Commander died in his sleep.

But it was not long after the death of Brynden Rivers that the reports of Hardhome began to come through from his Rangers.

He had been comfortable just keeping an eye on them at first, but then they grew in numbers. They built ships and walls. They had the balls to claim their lands did not fall under the purview of the Watch, as if they were not wildlings.

Most brothers that were caught on Storrold's Point were chased away with arrows and only those that requested guest rite were allowed inside. And to top it off they had healing sorcery if his men were to be believed. And Beron did. He had seen enough wargs and giants beyond the Wall to know better than discounting magic when it came to the wildling cunts.

This was worrying to Beron. It painted the picture of a possible Witch-King-Beyond-the-Wall at the head of a fleet and a base to get reinforcements.

It was this worrying possibility that led Beron to his current actions as he marched the army beyond the hills that hid them as the dark was now their disguise. Their opportunity had come to take care of the problem with minimal losses.

As they marched, he saw the walls for himself and realized his army would not be able to easily overcome them had that been their intention like his men advised him. The thousand he had would have bled dearly against those walls. Despite it being made of wood it stood tall, had ramparts and batlements and even had towers for their archers that had no doubt been given as many arrows as they could carry. It was more than enough to make any army that thought of simply storming it pay.

Fortunately, that was not their plan.

But they would have to attack it to make sure the wildlings brought most of their fighting forces towards the fire that would soon consume them.

The Lord-Commander felt a sliver of shame at that thought but pushed it down by thinking of the last time a wildling king crossed the Wall.

He could not feel shame in killing spearwives- he had lost more men than he cared to name because they thought a wildling woman was less of a threat then the men. The children were a necessity. For their plan to work no one can survive to tell what happened at Storrold's Point.

Almost as soon as they crossed the hills, they heard the gaurdsmen blow a horn (and chimes?), alerting the people of Hardhome of their march.

"Guess it was too much of the Gods to ask them to mask our march" The man said aloud as he saw the walls had more men than he would expect during the night. It seemed to the man that even an army of one thousand was hard to hide in Storrold's Point from the natives.

'Good, come get us. Soon three thousand swords will be at your back' The man thought whilst screaming at the top of his lungs the words that would start the first charge of more than three hundred men against the Gate of Hardhome.

"Vanguard! Attack!"

AN: And so begins the Battle for Hardhome

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