Game Of Thrones Joffrey Baratheon Purple Days

It seemed that the small town of Isti was but one of the many small port towns that were dotted all along the northern reaches of the Bleeding Marshes, the section of the Red River which bordered the Five Forts.

Joffrey had been conscious when they disembarked; he had been carried on a stretcher by the Chief and Young Rennick, a witness to the massive traffic the port handled. Barges and river galleys of curious designs and strange trappings frequently arrived and departed, sporting great triangular sails reinforced with some kind of hollow wooden rods. Their flags contained all manner of creatures that Joffrey thought must have been mythical. Flying tigers, dozen headed peacocks, white and black bears the size of trees and many other sundry animals that gazed from above as all manner of supplies, goods and men disembarked.

Joffrey could see many kinds of projectile ammunitions: arrows, ballista bolts, stone shots and strange, cone tipped barrels all stacked in one enormous wagon. In another he spotted strangely curved swords and spears, stacked against rows of Bronze-Iron lamellar armor, glinting against the rising sun.

The people were what most interested Joffrey though. He saw a lot of soldiers sporting the Fort on its chest plate, but some of them had their sun in different positions. Most of them had the sun rising slightly from the Fort's right, while a few others had it on the upper right, the center, the upper left or just peeking from the lower left. They carried curved swords or spears, though a few carried recurve bows too. They looked imposing in their lamellar armor, made of small rectangular iron and bronze plates, combining in a beautiful but deadly looking theme with their helmets, which left their faces open but had two small golden horns which rose vertically and curved away very slightly at the tips. Groups of 40 or 80 marched in lockstep through the wide stone roads that led away from the dock, faces stern and discipline absolute. Almost everyone on the docks seemed to be Yi-Tish, Joffrey at least was certain that no one who regularly travelled the Narrow Sea was here, his crew excluded.

Joffrey and the rest of the crew were quickly stowed aboard a big carriage along with other Yi-Tish men who wore neither weapons nor armor, and who Joffrey guessed were smallfolk or its eastern equivalent. The great carriages were pulled by pairs of some kind of big woolly camels with foul temperaments who made a habit of spitting at the face of any man foolish enough to walk close enough to them.

With a small cavalry escort, the carriage made way through the stone road, joining the stream of heavy traffic.

By midday of the next day, Joffrey's wonder senses were buzzing incessantly as they left the remains of the Red Marshes.

They passed through several market towns and villages that had grown on the back roads of the Five Forts, helping to feed or supply the force that defended the Empire against the beyond. Joffrey was now coherent enough that he could hold somewhat decent exchanges with their guards. Beyond the language barrier, Joffrey found they were very informative, not even hiding their destination or their purpose.

Having been rescued and nursed to health by a patrol from the 'Dawn Fort', Joffrey and the dozen survivors from the Jade Dreams were now in the debt of its Legion, and having no material possessions worth speaking about they had been 'conscripted' for service until that debt was repaid. Joffrey suspected they weren't telling him the whole story, but he let it go for the moment, so entranced he was by the prospect of actually seeing the edge of the known world.

If the soldiers could be believed, and if Joffrey's rapidly improving Yi-Tish was anything to go by, each Fort had a standing, professional army of over fifteen thousand men plus conscripts and auxiliary forces… he started to believe them a week later, when they reached their final destination.

The eastern most of the five, the Dawn Fort was a massive fortress nestled into the feet of the Mountains of the Morn, using it to serve in its defense. It rose up to the skies in the same fashion as its brethren, but the black fortress looked less imposing next to the great mountain range that signaled the end of the Known World. Beside it the Fort seemed like a lone watchmen, alone but vigilant as it gazed towards the edges of Civilization. A mixture of both city and great keep, it was built to support the Dawn Legion in all forms, from armories and barracks to taverns and bakeries. Joffrey's carriage entered through no less than three different, massive gatehouses before he was disembarked along with his crew and several other Yi-Tish.

Joffrey's stretcher was set on the floor inside a stone hall as he and his men waited for whatever the Yi-Tish had in store for them. He could see several men in differing clothes and ages. Some looked old but determined, others young and eager, and many others were terrified. All were ordered into rows, patiently waiting to be received by men clad in yellow robes and monkey tail hats.

Joffrey's group was promptly moved to another room though, this one smaller but emptier. One of the yellow robes sat in a desk at the back while another one approached the crew and asked a question in halting Common Tongue.

"Who, group leader?" he asked in an atrocious accent.

"I'm the Captain of this crew" Joffrey said in what he thought must be workable Yi-Tish as he struggled to stand up.

"Captain are you sure you don't want-"

Joffrey placed a hand on Valyon shoulder, interrupting him. "I'm responsible for the crew, chief. Besides, if they wanted to kill us they already had a thousand chances to do so…"

The Yi-Tish nodded at Joffrey and signaled at the desk at the back of the room. Valyon and Dallen helped him up as someone handed him a wooden cane.

He walked along with the Yellow Robe towards the desk, which was full of white parchment and writing supplies of ingenious designs. The man at the desk had the same yellow robe but he was older, sporting a full white beard in what Joffrey was starting to learn was typical Yi-Tish style. Long but thin, along with trimmed whiskers. He had 2 small bronze suns pinned to his chest, and spoke quickly when Joffrey finally sat, reading from one of the white parchments and not looking like he cared very much about what Joffrey had to say.

"Thirteen men, rescued from the seas by Captain Yuen. Guilty of Trespassing and Illegal Hunting in a Princely demesne, fine paid by Captain Yuen. Intensive care for 5 men which would have otherwise perished, employment of a Body Scribe for the leader's wounds… shelter provided…" The man mumbled something under his breath and nodded as he finally looked at Joffrey.

"The Legion, the gangs or the mines?" he asked him.

As the other yellow robed man started to translate into Westerosi, Joffrey spoke directly to his boss in Yi-tish "Excuse me, there seems to be a misunderstanding. We were on our way to Yin when a storm--"

The man shook his head as he passed him a piece of white parchment, full of scribbled letters and numbers in Yi-Tish. "No misunderstanding. More than a thousand Yish spent on saving your barbarian lives. Five years. Choose your service" he said dismissively as he took another paper and read.

Joffrey puzzled over the smooth parchment, trying to decipher the 'debt'. Most of it came from their 'crimes' whose Joffrey had no memory of, and the 'Body Scribe' which Joffrey suspected was the maester that saved him from his wounds and the infection. He talked a bit with the man before he excused himself and walked back to his crew.

"Five years!?" almost shouted Rennick in despair.

"Illegal Hunting… Must have been those small orange foxes you caught right after we landed, Will" said the Chief resignedly.

"At least their giving us a choice… that's more than what could be said in Westeros" said Joffrey.

"They give you a choice back home too Cap'n… death or the Watch… though when those soldiers said 'no one serves the Dawn unwillingly'… well, I guess they're still right" Said Dallen.

"From what I've been able to extract from the yellow asshole back there, we owe them five years of work in one of three 'services'. They will then give us a small compensation for the work done and we'll be free to go wherever we want after we've done our time" Joffrey told them.

There was a bit of silence as every man thought about their options.

"Which one will you be taking, Captain?" the Chief suddenly asked him.

"Legion" said Joffrey without hesitation.

Hells, they carried me all the way to the edge of the world. It'd be a shame not to see it all while I'm here… besides this… black… fortress is begging for a bit of exploration…

Though not the way he had envisioned, he was on Yi-Ti… and this place looked ancient.

"An army? Hells no, I'll take the mines. At least we'll live to spend whatever they pay us at the end…" said one of the sailors.

"Captain, these 'gangs'… you said they built roads and somesuch?" asked Will.

"Aye, public works I believe they called it, or close enough" said Joffrey.

Will nodded. "I don't mind the hard work and I've always wanted to go to far off places…" he said.

"We passed a couple of those crews on the way here… they didn't look too bad. I won't say I'll like it, but it's ten times better than a Lord's noose or a lifetime in the Watch" said Dallen.

All the survivors quickly made their minds up with varying degrees of acceptance, any thoughts about escaping lost with the sight of the sea. Most of them joined the 'gangs'. The Chief of course, had supreme confidence on his captain, and followed him on his choice.

And just like that, Joffrey joined the Dawn Legion.

-.PD.-

Being barely able to stand for ten minutes straight was no excuse for not serving the Dawn, as Joffrey quickly found out. He spent three months wearing a yellow robe, serving as a 'Scribe'.

It was serious business. Joffrey spent that time being worked on from dawn to dusk, barely managing as he expanded his language skills and learnt about a whole new system of thought regarding administration.

Bureaucracy. Joffrey regarded it either as mankind's greatest invention or its eventual downfall, depending on the day.

The fact that he could barely write Yi-Tish (if he took it slow) was no deterrent for the powers that be, in fact it was an outright advantage. Reading and Writing were uncommon skills in the Empire, as in the whole world, and the Dawn Legion and its sister armies generated a lot of 'paperwork' as the other scribe aides called it.

It was like being a Citadel Acolyte but purely focused on the efficient running of the enormous, permanent standing army that guarded the northern frontier of the empire, and the system of villages and fortresses that supplied it.

And boy what an effort did that entail.

Every purchase, every procurement, every replacement needed or supply lost meant maintaining a rigorous organization in order to maintain the exalted Yi-Tish ideal of efficiency, and to avoid corruption.

And that rigorous organization meant a whole system of administration that would have had the Master of Coin's servants and tax collectors crying in self-loathing.

Thanks to his position as a Scribe's aid, he was now acutely aware of how much food and supplies such a force devoured, and it made him raise his estimation of Yi-Tish civilization. It also gave him a bit of a more grounded understanding of how the Five Forts actually worked.

The Five forts had quite a bit of autonomy from each other despite having a unified chain of command, and each Fort Commander ruled its corresponding Legion. The Legions of the Light as an organization had a strange existence within the Empire, almost an autonomous entity within it. In between half heard conversations and reading when he had a rare hour to himself, Joffrey understood that the Emperor did not rule much more than the Imperial Capital… the rest of the Empire was ruled by a hundred princes, generals, priests and sorcerers. But even with such a level of decentralization there were still organizations that spanned the entire Empire, like the Legions or a bank whose name came out as the 'Golden Bank' no matter how many times he translated it inside his head. He was sure the name would have given many a Braavosi a good chuckle, though they would have certainly chuckled respectfully. The Golden Bank was so powerful its holding were untouched in wars, kind of like Septs in the days before Aegon's Conquest. It was so widely respected people accepted painted paper as currency, backed by the institution's great wealth and prestige.

Joffrey spent most of the time working hard in the Writing Hall, an aptly named room full of scribbling 'Bronzes', the nickname frequently used to refer to his branch of the Legion. They had worked him to the bone, and Joffrey scarcely had time to rest by one of the inner courtyards and watch the Iron recruits training, much less explore the lower levels.

Though he'd been working on that…

-.PD.-

"They're going to flog me for this…" muttered Huang, the dark stone drinking in the light from his torch.

"That's what you get for betting a favor Huang. Never bet a favour" Joffrey whispered cheekily, though his enthuthiasm was being slowly replaced by nervousness with every step they walked.

"How would I've known a Barbarian Bronze Scribe of all people would be a sand demon with a sword!?" the lowly Iron Tworay muttered to himself.

"Life's full of surprises…" Joffrey whispered back with conviction as they turned through another corridor of black, light drinking stone.

He was breathing hard when they finally arrived at a small wooden door.

"You sure it's here?" Joffrey asked him, looking at the door with trepidation.

"Yeah, this is the Dream Hall, but there's nothing important down here. Its just a place they use to spook raw recruits… What in the heavens are you looking for anyway?" Huang said.

"Answers" muttered Joffrey through his clenched teeth, steeling himself before he opened the door.

Good ventilation, there isn't much moss around here. Dry too, perfect location if you wanted to make something last…

With a final breath, he pushed the door open and walked in.

The Dream Hall was massive, a cavernous room whose interiors legends said were plagued by the ghosts of the Fort's acient garrison, scribbling cryptic messages on the hall's walls. Lines and dots and even images of doom and perdition.

Joffrey stood at the center of the hall, looking all around him, even up.

Nothing…?!

The black stone foundations were different from the rest of the Dawn Fort, blacker and light absorbing, just as the Hightower's had been.

But…

The expansive walls that curved upwards in a vault of black over Joffrey's head had nothing.

They were scratched, meticulously so, as if someone had taken a rough piece of volcanic stone and slowly grinded the room into oblivion… Not a single spot had been spared, the sheer minded dedicaction devoted to this was obvious as not even the floor itself had been spared.

He walked out of the room in deep confusion. "I told you, nothing. All the other Forts have this room and they're all like that, torn to shreds by the ghosts of past soldiers…" said Huang, delivering wise council from the generations of soldiers that came behind him, as he will no doubt instruct the next batch to join the Dawn Legion.

Joffrey just sighted as he walked with Huang back to the surface. That was no natural process. It was deliberate… but why here and not in the Hightower?... Who would destroy such ancient knowledge? And why?

Par for the course for his lives. More questions.

-.PD.-

With a swish and a flick, he signed the form and passed it to the other scribe for processing.

Joffrey stretched as he stood up. He walked away from the Writing Hall and walked past the rows of scribbling scribes, exiting through one of the back doors. He could even run now, though his belly was still a bit sore.

He took in a breath of fresh air to clear his mind and think, something that had been a rarity for the last few months.

He stood in one of the many balconies which dotted the central keep, a great tower not too dissimilar from the Hightower itself. Below him Joffrey could see the batteries of ballistas, catapults and mangonels, arrayed in concentric rings along the tower. Beyond it he could see the three great walls of the Dawn Fort, three great curtain walls that circled the central keep and housed everything from an armory to a brothel. Each wall had great stone bastions that jutted out from it, filled to the brim with well-maintained artillery.

Joffrey looked at the soldiers drilling below as he let his mind drift, absentmindedly trying to touch the missing part of his right upper ear.

An arrow from a Fiery Galley took that…

I didn't even feel it when that arrow grazed me… I wonder how old Joffrey would have reacted at that… would he have shrieked and demanded the death of the fiery zealots? Or would he have ducked at the deck, whimpering and cowering in fear?

… I think I would have whimpered… and then I'd… Gods… I… I can't remember…

It's been so long… how much time have I been living again and again…? Must be at least a couple score… more than half a century? Could it be so much? Sometimes I feel as though my first life was but a half remembered dream… others I feel as if I'd just choked last year, gasping for breath in my wedding day…

He leaned on the balcony's stone railing, hand scratching his not even vaguely respectable goatee.

That storm and the subsequent fevered madness really served to calm me a little… I was so focused on getting the answers that I forgot a bit of Ned's wisdom. It's really about the journey, not the destination… and boy was I fixed on a destination…

He shifted his gaze to the mysterious Mountains of the Morn, darkening along with the rest of the valley and the planes to the north east as the sun kept hiding to the west.

It's been an interesting few months, getting to know the inky guts of the organism that protects an Empire… but I'm starting to wonder if there's a clue out there to be found, beyond the maps of civilization…

He stared at the North East, almost entranced by the vast expanses which opened up the farther you left the mountains behind.

So many places to explore, and I barely just got here…

"Enjoying the view?" asked someone to his left.

Joffrey turned and quickly saluted, placing a fist over his heart.

The man had sharp eyes and a knowing smile. He wore a cloak over light leathers, and he carried one of the classic recurve bows of the Dawn Scouts.

"Major" Saluted Joffrey, the three iron suns on his chest giving away his rank. "Just taking a breath of fresh air before heading back in"

The Major saluted back, then waved his hand. "You seemed to be pondering something important back then, mind if I ask what?" he asked as he leaned on the railing.

Joffrey's own single bronze ray felt awfully light besides the man's three suns. Iron meant he belonged to the Legion's combat forces, either the Garrison or the Scouts. The bow and the light armor didn't leave a lot of doubt about which one. Joffrey's first week here had been spent memorizing the ranks and branches, as well as the costumes of the Legions, and he didn't regret paying attention.

"Just thinking about what's out there, sir" Joffrey said respectfully.

The man nodded, "All manner of beings and dangers… a place of dark secrets and strange peoples…" said the Major, as if speaking from experience.

The Beyond… a perfect place to stash a secret or two… and see wonders unknown to man… Now how do I get him to invite me into the Dawn Scouts? Anyone on the Legion can change branches, but one always requires an invitation…

"I came to the Dawn Fort to report to the Commander, but I heard some rumors before going up…" he trailed off.

"Rumors, sir?" Joffrey inquired.

"Yes… Seems the Bronze Scribes have a rising star on their ranks" he mused out loud.

Joffrey was a bit confused, a 'rising star' meant someone on the fast track for promotions, someone who the upper ranks were just waiting for a bit of time before bestowing rays or suns… But they were rare. Despite its many quirks, the Dawn Legion was incredibly professional, nepotism and corruption were very rare beasts out here for some indiscernible reason, besides the occasional favor. For someone to be regarded as a rising star, you had to show a real promise.

"They do?" asked Joffrey, feeling he was being led somewhere in this conversation. This 'random encounter' reeked of something more.

Besides, I'm a Bronze Scribe myself and I certainly haven't seen anyone like that…

"They do. He could barely write or speak our language when he got here, a barbarian… A few months in, he's the fastest of the newly inducted at any of their usual tasks, shows both respect for the chain of command and initiative when he feels it's needed. He seemed good with a sword when challenged by some stupid, eager Iron Tworay… Quick witted too, though it seems he has a few blind spots—"

"Me?!" Joffrey suddenly understood. "You must be mistaken. I've been keeping my head barely out of the water with all the tasks--!"

"Exactly" interjected the Major. "You think they'd give that kind of work to a newly minted bronze ray? A foreigner one at that?" he snorted. "They pummel them to the ground the first week, to show them that whatever fancy education they got at the Imperial University or a Princely Library means nothing to the Legion… But you, it seems they gave up on breaking you a couple of weeks ago and they're waiting to promote you to Officer rank by the end of the month. Half Sun, in less than half a year… a new record certainly…" the Major chuckle at that, as if it was some private joke. "To think they put you here as a placeholder until your wounds healed before shunting you off to the Garrison… The Bronzes are shuffling and losing the paperwork as we speak, intent on making sure you stay here, while the Garrison is raising a divine wind trying to stop them…" he trailed off again, and this time Joffrey knew what the Major was expecting. Maybe not quick witted, but he'd been making progress…

"Interesting… and what are the Scouts doing, if I may ask, Major…?" Joffrey asked meaningfully.

"Jin. Major Jin… The Dawn Scouts have a hard life, and we are always in need of competent men that are not only good with their weapons, but also able to think on their feet, and even act with autonomy and initiative…"

"Shame about the shuffled, lost paperwork huh?" Joffrey said.

"The Scouts may not be too involved on the Fort's internal quarrels… but in that line of work you are bound to save someone important from a deadly danger once in a while" he continued as if Joffrey hadn't spoken, suddenly pulling a Service Sheet from his pocket and looking at it almost absentmindedly. "Important people who then owe us a favor or two…" he continued.

This man knew exactly what he wanted and wasted no time on it.

Joffrey smiled.

"I accept your invitation" Joffrey said in a formal tone. By the way the Major reacted, Joffrey guessed the man had been expecting that answer.

-.PD.-

That day they left through the three gatehouses and past the Iron Cementery, a huge ditch wider than the walls of Storm's End, filled with sharp iron stakes and old bones. They rode past big fortresses the size of Winterfell, each one getting a bit smaller the further they got from the Dawn Fort.

His companion and now superior, Major Tseng-Jin of the Dawn Scouts, was an excellent if tricky conversationalist… as well as a superb swordsman when they stopped and camped.

Joffrey landed on his butt with a crash… again. He stood up, rubbing his arm and dusting off the ever encroaching white sand that seemed to multiply for each step they gave north east. "I can't believe your that fast! And you say the Scout's primary weapon is a bow…?" Joffrey grimed good naturedly.

"It's not speed, it's a fundamental principle of the Scouts, an obvious one even a lowly Iron Ray should understand… if he paid attention…" Jin said, yet again.

For a warrior and a ranger, Major Jin taught like some Archmaesters. Archmaester Perestan, the historian, came to mind. Always with the questions and never giving a straight answer.

Joffrey shook his head as he raised the strangely curved but wickedly sharp Legion Katana back to a guard position. Surprisingly workable against various types of armors, the thing was pure murder against the unarmored raiders that frequently stormed through the Grey Wastes, intent on devouring the soft meat behind the hard shell of the Five Forts. Fortunately, these ones were training versions... For all the good that did to Joffrey's bruises.

Alright, best way to make Jin get on with his point is to do the same as with Perestan, get to the point first.

He's good, but Ser Barristan or-- Ser Jaime—would beat him, I think. It's not like he's pummeling me senseless, his defense is just too good… always there to meet my strikes, always dodging otherwise… his attacks are descent, but he just waits for me to make a mistake and takes advantage of it…

The swords clashed, Joffrey delivering a flurry of strikes on Jin's dancing katana. He met them all for a good long while, and when Joffrey overextended he delivered a painful blow to his wrist.

He picked his sword again and stood ready, thinking quickly.

Yes… his style is very different from the Hound's…

He's doing something different… the Hound's focused, but his eyes are always moving, analyzing each body part lightning quick.

They clashed again, the light of the camp fire letting Joffrey see the Major's face.

Not the Major though… his eyes are vaguely unfocused, looking at me but devoting all of his concentration on…

Joffrey thought about delivering a slash at the man's shoulder, but as he made the move to attack there he saw the Major's sword moving to block the future blow.

Gods! He's not fast, he's just stupidly good at predicting me! Focusing on it completely and doing it constantly… He thought in a daze.

But that means…

The blow was parried and Joffrey repositioned himself as he delivered a special that Nakaro had taught him, one he rarely used because even vaguely competent fighters always saw through it. He triple feinted, left right left and suddenly he attacked through the center. Jin struggled to parry the invisible attacks before he fell back with an oomph on the sandy ground, a lethal stab if they'd been using real swords.

Joffrey helped him up, and he wasn't surprised to find the Major smirking in a self-satisfied fashion "You would have been wasted on the Bronze Scribes… Good job on figuring it out" he said as they approached the rest of the men, a six man escort for the Major that had been chatting around the campfire and eying the rookie scout.

"Damn… Sir… the amount of mental conditioning you and the rest of the Scouts must have gone through to fight like that… though I must ask, why not train and fight the normal way, it would be a lot less effort for the same prowess, I'd think…" Joffrey asked him as they sat, taking out his metallic 'canteen' and taking a sip of water. A 'solid' improvement over a wineskin.

His imaginary Tyrion raised 3 fingers out of ten to the air, shaking his head.

The Major looked intrigued at his sudden snort, but he quickly answered Joffrey's question with another one of his own, as usual.

"A wasteful skill indeed… for a sword fighter perhaps… but tell me Jof-Ry, what is the primary weapon of the Dawn Scouts…?"

Joffrey didn't deign himself to answer the obvious question, but he still eyed the recurve bows they all carried, thinking.

Always predicting…

-.PD.-

The Fortresses, Great Keeps, Moats and Baileys kept getting sparser and smaller the farther they left the Dawn Fort behind, and trees and other greenery slowly gave way to grey sand or grassy planes depending on the area.

The exception to that rule was the Greytower. A respectable castle a bit larger than Riverrun, it sat atop a small green hill, overlooking the last dozen or so small forts on the horizon which were the last fixed presence of the Legion this far out from the Dawn fort.

"I didn't know you'd studied the Wall, Sir" he asked Jin as they cantered on their horses, the Greytower growing bigger as they approached it from the South-West.

"Even though it's a long way from here, scholars have still written a bit about it. I find it very intriguing, a possible path our own defense here in the Empire could have followed…" the Major said.

"How so?" asked Joffrey.

"Its founding principle is radically different from the Five Forts. The Wall seems to be a hard Front Line, a single towering defensive line…" he mused.

"Yeah, I could see how that would look weird from here, what was the name you used the other day…?" asked Joffrey.

"Defense in Depth" said Jin, nodding at Joffrey. "A hard Front Line is all well and good for dealing with huge armies, as long as you have the proper manpower of course… but out here large armies rarely cross the Grey Wastes, and when they do our doctrine still chews them out, though casualties can get higher in those cases…"

The Five Legions operated a complex network of keeps and redoubts, spreading throughout the front of the Forts like pebbles on a beach… or rocks. Big rocks. The Legions frequently patrolled between the strong points, and it was almost impossible for groups of raiders to sneak by undetected. If the raiding party was big enough, the Legion could always bunker down on their keeps and cut lines of communication or supplies from the enemy's rear while the Legion mustered in strength at their respective Forts, to either defend the Fort itself if the situation was dire enough or much more frequently march out and work as the hammer against the multiple anvils the enemy had left at their rear. Alternatively, if the enemy decided to siege every pocket of defenders, they only gave time for the whole five legions to muster and break them like an egg.

It was an ingenious system, and the paperwork required to keep it all supplied and operating would give Joffrey nightmares until the end of time.

The conversation died off as Joffrey regarded the Greytower again, this time closer. The central keep rose from the South Western corner, a square, weathered bastion made of grey stone bricks. Smaller towers rose from the other corners. The sparse greenery around it betrayed the presence of subterranean water, a sure necessity for the headquarters of the Dawn Scouts.

The Garrison patrolled between the Forts and the keeps. The Scouts scouted the Beyond, deep into the lands of the Shrikes and even further… reaching for the grey edges of the world…

"We're here" announced Jin as the double portcullis screeched open, welcoming back their second in command along with a cartload of supplies and one new recruit.

-.PD.-