Ebrose

The tunnel beneath the wall was ancient – almost two thousand years since it'd been hewn from the rock and ice that once supported the world's first and most famous megastructure. Although the wall around Point Farrow had been devastated, the area was still famous amongst sportsmen and history buffs alike. Meadows would have loved this, he lamented as his two guides led the way. He glanced over to Turk and Blythe. Blythe looked apprehensive, but Turk was positively shaking from the cold. Despite the heavy coat he'd been given, the poor man wasn't cut out for this sort of temperature.

Every so often, the tunnel would branch. The main pathway continued forward but smaller passages were carved going either direction. Beck explained that these pathways led to ancient fortifications and passages to either side of the wall. Once, the Night's Watch kept men in these tunnels to watch for intruders. Over time, they'd simply decided to seal up most of the entrances as their numbers dwindled. Only a few of the branching pathways actually went anywhere – most simply ran into a collapsed section of the wall, creating a dead-end.

"I cannot bear this cold," Turk muttered between chattering teeth. "I do not understand how you are able to withstand this." Beck turned to him and offer a sympathetic smile.

"We're only a couple of miles from a place to rest," Beck offered. Turk nodded in understanding.

"I should like a fire," he admitted. "I should like one very much." Lance offered a grin. Beck simply grunted in agreement.

"I imagine this place hasn't been walked in centuries," Ebrose finally spoke, attempting to distract Turk from the cold. "We might be the only living souls to have passed through here in who knows how long." Blythe looked over at him as if to say: Is this meant to be a comforting thought? Ebrose quickly continued his musing to diffuse the faux pas. "I imagine that the brothers of the Night's Watch carved these tunnels not just for convenience, but as a shelter from the cold winds."

"You suggest it is colder outside?" Turk questioned.

"One hundred percent," Lance answered. "Outside, the winds will freeze your piss before it hits the snow." Turk shrank into his heavy coat.

"This is an extremely disagreeable place to live," he observed. The two black brothers snickered as Blythe put her hand on his shoulder.

"Is there any news?" she asked. Turk shook his head.

"Nothing since we left," he admitted. "For you as well?" She nodded.

"Nothing," she admitted.

"Now, now," Ebrose began. "We will likely hear from him when we near Castle Black. For now, I believe he trusts us to make our way." As he spoke, a faint, deep rumbling sound could be heard echoing through the tunnel.

"What's that?" Beck asked, craning his neck to hear better. Lance shook his head in silence. "We'd better pick up the pace. If this place is coming down, I don't want to be in it."

The group began walking more briskly, their flashlights shining about for any dangers lurking within the walls. Finally, they reached their first major obstacle: a collapsed portion of the tunnel. There was still room to pass through one at a time, so they carefully passed through the small opening and into the tunnel beyond it. As they resumed their walk, Beck's radio offered a pop and a hissing sound. He grasped it and began tuning it to their known frequencies.

"Are we close? Can you raise them?" Lance asked eagerly. Beck shrugged.

"You mean the next outpost? Is it still manned?" Ebrose asked. Lance turned to him.

"Rangers keep their own schedule when out in the field," he began. "We occupy whatever space we need. There are only a few intact safehouses along this route, so it makes sense we'd run into some of them along the way," he reasoned. Ebrose nodded in understanding.

"Your organization," Turk interrupted. "Are there many still alive?" Lance sighed and shook his head.

"We were never that numerous to begin with," he admitted. "And most of our boys operate covertly – embedded with regular units or undercover elsewhere."

"Your officer did not give you this information?" Turk asked. Beck looked over at Lance, who shook his head.

"OpSec," he offered.

"I do not know this word."

"Operational security," Lance clarified. "The less we know about each other's mission, the less likely to leak information to the enemy."

"I do not believe this enemy communicates in such a way," Ebrose scoffed. "I would assume your leadership would want to keep you all informed as best they could."

"You would assume so," Beck offered. "But like he said, most of us kind of do our own thing. It's pretty rare to get us all assembled," he concluded. Ebrose frowned. Turk shared the sentiment.

Soon, they reached another blocked section of the tunnel, only this time it offered no opening for them to pass through. They doubled back shortly until they found a tunnel out of the wall and into the tundra north of the wall. The brightness of the sun reflecting off of the snow caused them to wince.

"Goggles on," Beck commanded, sliding his orange-lensed goggles over his eyes. Lance did the same. The rest of their party quickly dug the pairs they'd been given out of their baggage and put them on before snow-blindness took them. The dense pine trees obscured their vision past the tree line. Beck pointed along the old wall, which towered above them.

"How about that," Ebrose gushed as the grand scale of the ancient wall became known.

"Yeah," Lance grumbled. "Stuck between a pine forest with who-knows-what lurking in it, and, of course, this ancient wall."

"This wall was rumored to be magical," Ebrose offered. "It would sound silly if we didn't know that the old legends were true."

"Fat lot of good it did," Beck spat. "The undead didn't stay up here for long." They continued traveling in silence after that. Finally, Beck's radio crackled to life. A string of coded words and phrases came from the small speaker. Beck clicked the transmitter and repeated a number of odd phrases. An excited answer came back, followed by laughter.

"We're close," Beck announced to the group, who all seemed to sigh in relief. As promised, they eventually reached a gate, broken with time and capable of blocking nothing. They passed through it, back into the dark tunnels before arriving at a steel door – newer than anything they'd seen since Point Farrow. It slung open with a shivering creak, a light glowing from within and, miraculously, warmth. A ranger stood in the doorway, his face wrapped tightly with a black cloth. His boots looked to be covered in frozen earth and ice. His hands were paper white.

"Good to see you, brothers," he offered in a gruff voice. "Please," he urged them inside. Beck and Lance shook hands with the man, wincing at how cold they were.

"Out here alone?" Lance asked him as he closed the door behind their group. The room was little more than a camp protected by walls of ice and stone. A metal pot was set up over the fire, which Turk immediately flocked to in search of warmth.

"Aye," he offered, locking the door and moving to his seat. "The stewards pass through here to resupply between Castle Black and the other forts," he explained. "Figured I'd keep an eye on 'em as they work."

"You're doing good work," Beck agreed. "We'd be lost outside had you not raised us."

"With how cold it gets at night, I wouldn't want you stuck out there," the ranger agreed. "You're welcome to stay here the night. I'll take first watch."

"I'm Beck," Beck greeted. "This is Lance. Our companions: Maester Ebrose, Knight-Major Blythe and Turk."

"Turk?" the ranger asked.

"I have no f-fancy title," he shivered by the fire. "I simply am." The ranger laughed, his eyes the only thing visible.

"They call me Ben."