Ebrose
Ebrose looked out of the window onto the glowing horizon, each blast of rockets filling him with terror, awe and even a measure of hope. The two black brothers stood nearby, unable to have left due to the impending invasion. They made it clear that they'd continue their mission – to defend Westeros' last maester. They'd met resistance until they made it abundantly clear that their lives were on the line until the very end. Blythe intervened on their behalf. They were loyal, and loyalty should be its own reward but there's nothing wrong with a kind word from a Knight. He looked over to Ranger Beck, who was staring at him rather than the fireworks.
"Are you concerned, ranger?" Ebrose asked with a consoling smile. Beck shook his head.
"No, maester," he replied with a smile. "Just in a bit of a state," he finally admitted.
"Aye," Lance affirmed. "This is the Long Night."
"Perhaps," Ebrose offered. "Though I have a feeling this may only be the first skirmish." Beck and Lance looked at him, concerned.
"What do you mean?" Beck asked. Ebrose turned back to the beach, now being pummeled with echoing artillery. He watched the beach recede as the shells blasted the land and water into the air, building new sandbars out in the waves and puddles where beach once lay. Of course, he noted the unending onslaught of the undead continue their siege.
"They're just... foundering on the beach," Ebrose considered out loud. "They're not making any progress, just... cannon fodder." Beck took the opportunity to look out of the small window, barely more than an arrow loop, bringing up his rifle and looking through the high-quality optic sight.
"Hmm," he hummed. "I think I know what they're doing," he finally sighed.
"Do tell," Ebrose urged. Beck lowered his rifle and sat down in one of the chairs, rubbing his temples.
"They're making a bridge," he finally groaned.
"What?" Lance gasped. Ebrose remained silent. It can't be.
"Look," Beck pointed. "They're only hitting one beach. There's been no fire or report of sightings from the other. Just this beach and they're being blasted before they reach. The bodies are going to stack up and walk across."
"Impossible," he scoffed. "The stretch of water is miles across – it would take hundreds of thousands of them..." he trailed off as the realization hit him and his heart sank. Beck nodded in understanding. "Gods above," he whispered. "This channel is long, but not deep at all..." They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Lance stood and opened it, seeing Turk standing before them.
"Hello, Turkesh," Ebrose greeted. "Please, come in."
"Thank you, maester," another's words came from Turk's mouth. "However, I must insist you three come with me. This castle will fall soon, and I need you to reunite you with your champion."