Chapter 25: The True North (2) part 2

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He could feel the eyes of the young woman glance around the building as she caught her breath. Interestingly, her gaze slightly paused on first Jon, then Robb, and lastly himself. And each time it did he could feel a slight touch of something emanating from her. 'Another Force sensitive…after a fashion.'

"Bones. Harma. Weeper and Crowkiller. They all be comin with what looks like half their clans."

Frowning, Nox sunk within himself and reached out with the Force. But much like in Valyria, his senses were clouded, as if he were trying to wade through a thick murky bog amid a heavy fog. But despite the resistance, he was able to find what he was looking for less than a few hours south of them. Given the sheer number and the murderous intent rolling off the horde, he was honestly surprised he hadn't sensed them before. Letting his anger rise within himself, Nox pulled deeply on the dark side of the Force, causing light miasmas of Force energy to waft off him as the temperature in the hut dropped significantly and the fire began to flutter.

"What is the meaning of this, Rayder?" Nox hissed, as more than a few amongst the free folk began reaching for their weapons while the men and women from the south did the same.

"Nox?" Ned questioned as he stood his ground in the face of Nox's wrath.

"Rayder here didn't keep his word," Nox seethed. "There is a large force of free folk approaching from the south. They'll be here before midday."

"Fucking traitorous cunts," GreatJon spat, his hand gripping his oversized greatsword.

"They are not here on my command!" Rayder shouted, obviously struggling to fight through the pressure Nox was exerting on the free folk just through his mere presence.

Pulling deeper on the Force, more than one of the free folk lost the battle of wills and began shaking and cowering behind their chieftains, each of whom were barely keeping their composure. "Explain. Quickly."

Nodding, Mance gripped his hand to keep it from shaking. "My decision to meet with all of you was…not well received amongst some of the free folk. They saw it as a sign of weakness that I would be willing to speak with you instead of just attacking the Wall head on. Several chieftains' broke faith and went their own way. I did not think they would be so bold as to try and attack us here. But apparently the chance to eliminate several chieftains of rival clans and several Lords from the south have proven to be too valuable a chance to pass upon. And if it's Crowkiller, Weeper, Harma and Bones like Ygritte has stated…then we can expect their numbers to be between ten to twenty thousand."

Ned's anger rose as he stepped towards Mance. "You should've told us that a group amongst your people broke faith before we came here. Nox… Do we have time to get everyone loaded onto the Sea Wolf before they arrive?"

Frowning, Nox sent his sight outwards once more. "There's time for two, maybe three trips to the Sea Wolf. Even if we brought the ship in closer to the shore and risk running her ashore on the rocks in the bay… We'd maybe only by another trip. At best…we'd only be able to evacuate half of everyone here before they arrived."

The unease grew as the free folk and the men and women from the south began anxiously glancing at one another. As it currently stood, they were outnumbered nearly ten to one. They had the defensive position in Hardhome, but that unfortunately meant little as the place was little more than ruins. And at best, they would only be able to evacuate perhaps a thousand to the Sea Wolf before the attack came.

"Stark," Rayder spoke up, his voice carrying heavy resignation within it. "This is a matter for the free folk and not your fight. But I would ask that you take the children we have here and at least one of our chieftains to your ship and see them safely to where the rest of our people are camped two days south of here."

All of those from south of the Wall glanced at one another. They knew what Mance was asking. Take the children and run, while those who stayed bought them time with their lives. Ned didn't say anything in response, instead he looked towards each of his bannerman, each of whom gave him a curt nod. He even looked down at Robb, Jon and Theon, each of whom nodded as well. Lastly, Ned looked at Nox. "Do you have any tricks?"

Smirking, Nox tapped at the side of his nose. "Of course."

"Will they be enough?" Ned asked, now drawing curious looks from the free folk as he continued to ignore Mance's request.

"With a little help from our new friends here, I would almost say they'd be overkill."

Nodding, Ned did something that garnered no small amount of surprise from the free folk. Drawing the small knife he kept on his person, Ned proceeded to cut the leather bindings that kept Ice in its sheath. The moment he did, Nox felt something shift in the Force. 'Interesting. This was a shatter point.'

"You're wrong Rayder," Ned said, handing the knife off to Robb who also cut the leather bindings on his sword before handing it off to Theon. "This is not a matter for the free folk. This is a matter for all of those of the North. And you and yours are part of the North. Or you will be soon enough. And if there is something that all Lords and Ladies of the North abide by it is this; we will not ask something of our bannermen and women that we are not willing to do ourselves. GreatJon, take two dozen of their strongest and start reinforcing sections of the wall to the south. It won't stop them, but it will slow them down."

"When the fuck did we start takin orders from kneelers?" Magnar Thenn growled, earning a hard look from Ned and the other men and women of the North.

"Are you well versed in siege warfare, Magnar Thenn? Or in defending a holdfast from an attack?" Ned asked, not backing down from the slightly larger man. All talking in the hut ceased as Stark and Thenn stared one another down until eventually Thenn broke the contest and shook his head. "We do, Thenn. Your people are fine fighters in the field, but defending a holdfast is nothing like fighting in an open field. Now if you want to survive this, I suggest you keep your mouth shut for now and listen to what we have to say. GreatJon, go. Now. Every moment we hesitate is a moment our enemies have to get closer to us."

There was little argument after that as Umber pushed his way out of the hut, yelling at whoever he saw that looked even the slightest bit strong to follow him to prepare the defenses. Several of the larger free folk within the hut, including Tormund and the giant Mag the Mighty left with Umber, hopefully to offer their help. Once the large men were gone, Nox held out his hand towards Rayder and waited. "The Force imbued object that you have hidden amongst your possessions, Rayder. Hand it over," he said, leaving no doubt that it was not a request, but rather a demand.

Rayder hesitated, then sighed as he turned around as he walked towards one of the only pieces of furniture in the hut, a squat table, that had a large blanket of fur covering its surface. Placing his hand on the fur, Mance hesitated. "This was our last resort. I was planning on offering it as trade to allow my people south…or at worst sound it and force our way south." Pulling off the fur, Rayder revealed a large black warhorn that was nearly the length of the table. Nox could feel the Force etched runes running along it's surface, intermixing with golden bands. "The Horn of Joramun, or the Horn of Winter as it is also known. Believed to have been used to awaken the giants from their slumber by Joramun. And perhaps the only object known to man that is believed to have the power to bring down the Wall itself."

"By the gods," Maege Mormont breathed, her eyes, as well as the eyes of everyone else in the hut fixated on the oversized warhorn. "It really does exist… This…This thing was thought to be nothing more than legend."

"Then perhaps we should start calling this the 'Age of Reborn Legends'," Oberyn remarked, his tone mostly joking but also partially serious. "The return of magic. Sightings of the Others. This Horn, which most Maesters doubt even exist. Now all we need is the return of dragons and this age will be one to rival the Age of Heroes."

Walking away from the Northern lords and past the free folk, Nox stood beside the warhorn and held his hand out. As the Head of the Pyramid of Ancient Knowledge for the Sith Empire, he'd had his experience with more than a few Force objects in his time. This warhorn, however… It did something far more than he ever would've expected. And if used in a certain manner…it could potentially be used as a very, very powerful weapon.

"Nox," Ned called out from behind him. "Is it genuine?"

Lowering his hand, Nox turned around and faced those in the hut. "I can't say as to whether this is the 'Horn of Winter' as described by your legends, but this is indeed a Force imbued object capable of bringing down the Wall if it is wielded in the right hands."

"How?" Robb asked. "The Wall is massive. How can a single horn bring it down?"

"Size means little in terms of the Force, acolyte," Nox lectured, making Robb cringe at being called out. "But to answer your question Robb, this horn uses the Force to create concentrated ultrasonic vibrations that can be focused into a particular location in order to disrupt the chemical bonds within a specific composition of mass."

Nox's explanation was met with blank looks across the entire hut. "I'm a learned man, Nox," Oberyn finally said. "But that went over even my head. Perhaps one more time so that we might all understand?"

'Right. We haven't even reached what could be considered basic chemistry that even a child knows in the Empire.' "In short, it uses sound to bring down walls…or perhaps even more than that. Give me a moment…I think I have an idea. I just need to verify that it'll work."

Turning his back on everyone, Nox once again held his hand over the horn and delved into the Force once more, trying to see if what he had planned for the horn was possible. As he did, he heard Ned address the other lords from the south who'd joined them. "Prince Oberyn. Lord Gerion. Lord Willas. I must insist that you three and your men return to the Sea Wolf."

Nox could tell the three men were sharing a glance with one another before Oberyn lifted his Valyrian spear and pulled the leather covering off the blade. "Respectfully, Stark…blow it out your arse. I haven't backed down from a fight yet, and I'm not about to start. And if the numbers you are about to face are indeed genuine, then you will need not only my spear, but every sword and spear available to you."

"My thoughts exactly, Oberyn," Gerion nodded, cutting the leather ties on his sword. "I owe a debt to the North and House Stark. And a Lannister always pays his debts."

"Unfortunately, I am not much of a fighter, Lord Stark," Willas added, his tone notably upset with himself. "But my brother, his squire, and the men of House Tyrell will stand with you as well."

"Only a fool turns down more spears before a fight, Stark," the woman Val stated. "If they are willing to fight beside us, then who are we to stop them?"

Nox could tell that Ned wanted to send the men away, mostly to preserve the alliances that were being cultivated between the North and the other kingdoms. But as Val said, who were they to send willing combatants, and skilled combatants at that, away just before they were about to go to war? "Very well," Ned conceded. "Rayder, how many noncombatants are amongst your people here in Hardhome?"

Rayder hesitated as he thought of the number. "Perhaps a few dozen at most. Almost all children save for Mother Mole and a few other elders."

"Good," Ned nodded. "Lord Willas. I'm assigning you to oversee the transporting of the noncombatants back to the Sea Wolf. If Nox is right, and he usually is, then we will have only one trip to the ship and back before the enemy is upon us. Use the time wisely. Gather every arrow, bow, sword and spear along with any capable arm able to wield them and send them back to us. As the Lady Val—"

"I ain't no 'Lady,' Stark."

"—has stated. We will need every available arm to overcome these odds." Ned pressed on, ignoring the free folk woman. "Nox. I take it you have a plan for the horn?"

"Aye."

Holding out his hand, Nox used the Force to set up at table amid those present, drawing no shortage of surprised gasps and near shouts as the free folk experienced the Force for the first time. Once the table was set, he then summoned several pieces of debris and placed them on the table to create a very crude map of Hardhome and the surrounding terrain. "Unfortunately, this peninsula we are on places us in a bottle neck," Nox stated, lowering his hand as he began. "Mance, given who is leading this attack, what tactics can we expect from our opposition?"

"Not much," Rayder answered. "Crowkiller, Weeper, Harma, and Rattleshirt are all capable warriors and chieftains, but they are not tactically minded as those south of the Wall understand them."

Nodding, Nox let his sight settle in on the map he'd created. "So, it's safe to assume that they will simply rush us in the belief that their numbers will be sufficient to overrun us?"

"That's a safe assessment, sorcerer."

"Good," Nox nodded. "We'll use their numbers and ignorance against them."

"Use their numbers against them?" Magnar Thenn questioned, his tone still somewhat hostile, but now there was a touch of respect in his voice. "How?"

"By causing panic amongst their ranks and letting them destroy themselves…with some help, of course." Nox smiled, pointing towards the cliff face south of Hardhome. "When the time comes, Robb will blow the Horn of Winter directed at the cliff face here. The Horn's ability will fracture the rocks and cause an avalanche which will sweep down and bury a good portion of the advancing army. Then we simply clean up any stragglers that don't get caught in the avalanche."

Everyone in the hut stared down at the laid-out map as they digested the plan he'd presented. "It's possible…but there is a problem with your plan, sorcerer," Rayder stated, pointing at various places on the map. "They have to be close to that cliff face to get caught in the rockslide. And the field south of Hardhome is barren, giving them plenty of room to maneuver away from the cliff."

"They won't have a choice but to head to the cliff," Nox stated, drawing himself up to his full height. "Because I'm going to make the alternative far, far worse."

That drew many within the hut up short. Those who'd seen what he'd done on Pyke and in Valyria clearly believed that he could do exactly what he said. But those who'd yet to see when he stretched his power, mainly the free folk, were in disbelief.

"I suppose that we will just have to trust that you can do what you say, sorcerer," Mance sighed, realizing that they didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

"Master Nox," Robb spoke up tentatively, eyes darting towards the horn. "How do…umm, why do I need to blow the horn? Can't anyone do it?"

Rocking back, Nox scratched at his beard. "In theory, yes. However, from what I've been able to gleam from a preliminary examination of the horn, having a non-Force sensitive blow the horn would be akin to a dozen battering rams beating against a stone wall. You can't be sure just where the break will occur. However, if the one to blow the horn is an individual like yourself, one who has been well trained in the Force, then it becomes a single battering ram with the strength of a dozen. And you'll be able to pinpoint a specific location to bring down instead of just bringing down a huge section and potentially burying us and our enemies."

"Oh," Robb replied eloquently as more than a few turned and looked at him, "I—"

"You'll do your duty, Robb," Ned cut in. "You're a Stark. And Starks never shy away from their duties no matter how trying or difficult they might seem to be."

Robb stood up straighter and nodded. Leaning his hands against the table, Mance took his time looking over the display. "It seems we have a plan then," he nodded before turning to address his chieftains. "Karsi, see to the evacuation of the young and old with Mother Mole. Magnar Thenn, Val. Get everyone ready."

As everyone began to disperse from the hut, Jon approached Nox. "And what about me, Master?" Jon asked him. "Where will I be?"

"Attached to your brother's and father's hips," Nox answered, turning towards his Apprentice. "Cut down anyone who tries to get close to them. Show no compassion or mercy. For there will be no time for either until the battle is done. Understand?"

Jon gave him a curt nod. His transformation from the still shy and unsure boy he'd been before they'd gone to Valyria to now was nothing short of remarkable. He was indeed proving to be an Apprentice to be proud of. "Yes, Master."

After Jon had left to help his father and brother with the horn, Nox suddenly found himself alone in the hut. Placing his fingers on the surface of the table, Nox slowly walked around the table as he sunk into the depths of the Force, his thoughts focused on the battle to come as he tried to glean any insight he could from the Force. But as he suspected, the Force was clouded by a dark fog here north of the Wall. His abilities were not diminished. But his foresight was clearly compromised. 'I knew it. Another strong entity in the Force lies here north of the Wall.' Nox concluded. He'd always suspected that the great darkness that'd been shown to him was focused on a singular being, but now he had conformation of that fact. 'The question though, is if taking the head off the serpent will be enough to destroy its followers?' Shaking his head, Nox tried to force the thoughts of whatever this dark entity was to the back of his mind. 'There will be time for this later…we have a battle to survive first.'

Making his way out of the hut, Nox scanned the village, which was quickly taking shape as the Lords and Ladies from south of the Wall barked out orders while also helping their unexpected new allies to prepare the ruined village to defend against the approaching horde. 'It's time for me to do my part as well.' Nox nodded, seeing that there was no real need for him to do the manual labor of making the walls somewhat defensible.

Finding a place near the center of the village, Nox lowered his head and began pulling deeply on the Force. His thoughts focusing on the love he held for Nyra and his lost wife Ashara. As well as his fury at the loss of his son and the loss of Ashara. He could feel the snow shift around his feet away from his body as he slightly seethed in anger and basked in love, the light and dark side of the Force battling within him, fueling him. Making him stronger than he'd ever thought possible before his fateful meeting with his first apprentice and expanding his focus beyond just the dark side of the Force.

He could feel…not quite fear, but unease from many of the free folk and even some of those from south of the Wall. Only three were brave, or foolish pending on your point of view, to approach him while he was in this state. His Apprentice, Acolyte, and their father. The latter of whom was making his way over towards Nox while Robb and Jon aided wherever they could to help prepare for the incoming attack. Ned came to just outside of arms reach of him before he stopped. Even after all the time they had spent together, Ned was still clearly uncomfortable being around him when he pulled this deeply on the Force. Not that Nox blamed him at all. He'd made even seasoned Sith warriors tremble just by being in his presence.

"If you're here looking for reassurance, Ned, don't," Nox said before Ned could ask anything. "I've told you before. The only thing certain about the future is uncertainty. And as a seasoned commander, you know that nothing in war is for certain."

"Aye, I know," Ned nodded. "I just want to know the odds."

Still pulling on the Force, Nox shrugged. "Better now that we are here. This was…a shatter point. Had we left, then those that follow Mance would've been slaughtered. And the tribes left leaderless. It would be war amongst these people as new leaders tried to assert their authority. And with the slaughter, we would lose a potential ally and our first line of defense against the darkness that is coming."

He could sense Ned's surprise. "So, you would've stayed regardless?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Nox answered truthfully. "I only recognized the shatter point for what it was after it had come to pass. But no use lamenting on what could have been. Our enemy has arrived."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, several shouts rang out throughout the village that there were people on the horizon. A calm cold determination settled over Ned as the Quiet Wolf within him made itself known. "I know you've been holding back, Nox, even during the Greyjoy Rebellion. But now, as your friend, I ask you to stop holding back."

"Don't worry, Ned," Nox smirked, pulling out Raven's mask and fixing it to his face before raising his hand towards the sky, tendrils of dark miasma and Force lightning snaking up his arm. "It's well past time to show everyone the true power of the Force."

Gritting his teeth and pushing with everything he had, Nox sent the most powerful bolt of Force lightning he'd ever created up into the sky. He could feel the sky above them shift as the Force bent the very laws of nature to his will. Clouds began swirling and darkening as lightning arched between the clouds. With another yell, Nox brough his hand down, using the Force to bring down a storm of lightning from the sky, crashing down on the approaching army. He could feel as each bolt he brought down from the sky impacted and disintegrated the approaching wildling army. But it wasn't enough to slow the advance. Holding his hands out, Nox could feel his body begin to tremble as he pulled deeper and deeper on the Force. Winds began to blow around the village as the clouds began to turn. Tendrils of pure darkness crept down from the sky, nearly matching the speed of the lightning that was raining down on the army. Moving his arms as if he were rotating something, the dark tendrils and lightning began to twist and turn, starting first in the sky but quickly moving down to the ground. In the span of a few seconds, though to Nox it felt like hours, he'd turned the land south of Hardhome from a simple clearing to a deathtrap as the Force-nado, like the one he'd created in Valyria, began tearing the approaching army to shreds.

Alfyn Crowkiller could do little more than stare, completely dumbstruck, at the…by the gods he didn't even know what to call it. It was like a blizzard only circling in a single location. And instead of white, it was a dark color, almost black but not quite. And worse yet was the thunder and lightning that was coming from within the storm. The one's who'd been caught under the storm when it appeared out of nowhere were undoubtedly dead, even if he couldn't see their corpses. And any who tried to get even close to it were either thrown off their feet and into the sky, or they were struck by one of the bolts of lightning and reduced to a smoldering heap on the ground.

'By the gods…Mance wasn't just pushin shite. The fuckin kneelers truly do have a sorcerer amongst their kind. Fuck!'

"Crowkiller!" The Weeper called out as he came up beside him, staring up at the swirling wind and thunder with hatred and fear. "What da fuck is that?"

"I don't know," Alfyn yelled back as loudly as he could. The power of the winds and the deafening crashes of thunder made casual conversation almost impossible this close to the din. But despite all of that, he was still doing everything he could to keep his fear from showing through. He could not afford to show weakness. That was what fucked over Mance. "It has to be that fuckin sorcerer shit Mance told us the kneelers have!"

The Weeper tore his eyes away from the swirling winds. "You think a single man can do this?!"

"Fuck if I know!" Alfyn snarled. "All I know is that this works for us. The kneelers prized weapon is within our grasp. We kill the fucker. And the kneelers will be bending over themselves to let us through the Wall."

"Aye, that they will," Weeper nodded, a grin overcoming him at the prospect of killing the one capable of doing this. "But first we need to get to em."

"We head towards the cliffs," Alfyn said, motioning towards the cliff face that led up to Hardhome. "This was meant to slow us down, but we still got da numbers. We swamp Mance and these kneeler fuckers. Take their women and weapons and carve out a new home for us on the fuckin Wall after we slaughter every last crow there is."

Those that were within earshot of him all gave a war cry as Weeper nodded and started shouting out orders for everyone to move closer to the cliffs so that they could pass by this…windstorm, without getting torn a new asshole. 'Just wait, sorcerer,' Crowkiller thought, joy filling him at the prospect of running his spear through the sorcerer. 'Once I kill you…every kneeler will know my name and know to fear me.'

Jon was no stranger to the true power of the Force and what his Master could do with it. But seeing the Force storm again before his eyes that was diverting the approaching wildling army left him speechless, despite the fact he'd already seen his Master perform a similar technique during the battle in the ruins of Valyria. Hearing about what the Force was capable of was one thing, learning about it was another thing. But actually seeing what the Force was capable of in practice…that was something else entirely.

He wasn't the only one stunned by the display. Many of those that'd accompanied them from south of the Wall were all staring at the Force storm in complete shock, even though many of them had fought beside Master Nox either in Valyria or during the Greyjoy Rebellion. The wildlings, or free folk as they preferred to be called, had clearly not been ready to see what Master Nox was doing. All of them, even the chieftains, struck speechless. And going by the looks many were sending towards Master Nox, more than a few of them were on the edge of dropping to their knees and declaring his Master one of the Old Gods reborn. 'One day, Master…I will reach your level.'

"Get your thumbs out of your arses!" Jon's father yelled, startling just about everyone as Lord Stark walked amongst the ranks of Northmen, free folk, Dornish, and Reachmen that stood before the makeshift walls of Hardhome. "You'll be seeing plenty of that as the day goes by. Get in ranks! Shields to the front! Archers! Ready your arrows and let loose the moment you have a clear shot! Pick your targets and make those arrows count!"

Men and women shuffled around as those carrying any type of shield made their way to the front of the line, placing themselves between the wooden wall and everyone else. Gripping his lightsaber tightly, Jon waited, his heart beating heavily in his chest. While beside him, Robb had a death grip on the Horn of Winter, waiting for the right moment to blow the horn and hopefully bury the approaching army.

"Stark!" one of the archers atop the hut nearest to them, the same woman that'd barged in to inform them of the impending attack, shouted down gaining the attention of Jon, Robb, and their father. "They be movin towards the cliff to avoid the storm!"

Quite a few started cheering, but Jon stayed silent. As did his father and brother. Just because Master Nox had managed to divert the approaching army into position didn't mean that the battle was anywhere near over yet. "Stay steady, boys," their father said, standing between Robb and Jon. "You've both proven yourself in battle once before and are more than ready for what is to come."

"Yes, father," Jon and Robb both said together as Jon fought to keep his nerves from showing.

Above them, Jon could hear the snapping of bowstrings as the archers placed atop the huts of Hardhome began letting loose their arrows at the approaching army. 'Gods…this would be so much simpler if we actually had a way of seeing over the wall. But without battlements… We're all stuck just staring at the wooden palisade until the enemy reaches us.' "Get ready, Robb," their father said, a look of pure concentration on his face as he placed a hand on Robb's shoulder.

"Aye, father," Robb nodded, lifting one end of the horn to his lips and, with the help of two of House Stark's men, pointed the other towards the cliff face to the south.

Breathing deep, Jon closed his eyes and reached out through the Force. His senses were not nearly as finetuned as his Master's, but he'd have to be a complete novice not to be able to sense the large mass of open hostility and bloodlust that was racing towards them. "Three hundred paces," Jon said, his eyes still closed as he tried to gauge just how far away the horde was from them. "Two hundred."

"That's close enough," his father stated behind him. "Now Robb."

Behind them, Jon heard Robb take a deep breath before pressing his lips to the end of the horn. The resulting note wasn't necessarily loud, but Jon could feel the horn blow in his chest and through the Force to the point where it was almost painful. Looking around, he noticed that while everyone else seemed unnerved slightly by the horn, none were in the same type of pain as he. No. That wasn't true. He could tell that his father was more than uneased by the horn. And there was another, a wildl – no, a free folk woman, the redhaired woman, who was also clutching at her chest.

After holding the note for several long moments, Robb's need for air ended the noise as his brother backed away from the horn – and immediately collapsed as his knees gave out. "Robb!" Jon yelled, his voice carrying through the near deafening silence that had followed the ending of the horn blow.

"I'm alright. Just…that was like running around Winterfell in knee deep snow." Robb tried to say as Jon reached him. But his words were proven to be a lie as Jon tried to help him stand, only to have his legs collapse as soon as he tried to fully put his weight on them. "Did–Did it work?"

Frowning, Jon looked around, only now noticing the deadly silence that'd taken hold of the village. "I–I don't kn–"

A loud cracking noise sounded throughout the valley as every eye in Hardhome turned towards the ridge to the south. A second crack sounded, then silence. It was when a third crack, louder than the other two, sounded that something happened. And it was more than any of them expected as seemingly half the cliff face gave way, creating a landslide of rock, snow and ice that was heading directly for the approaching army. The once silent valley erupted into noise as cheers came from those within Hardhome while outside the walls cries of distress and fear rang out.

"Well done, son," their father said, patting Robb on the shoulder. "You've done your part, now it's time for you to move to the rear."

From his spot on the ground, Robb stubbornly shook his head. "No. I–I can still fight. I ca—"

"You can barely stand without support," their father finished for him. "As a Lord, especially a Warden, you are expected to lead your men from the front. But you must also realize when it is time for you to move to the rear. This son is just such an occasion. Neither your brother nor I, nor any other man of the North, will be able to focus on the battle if they are constantly worried about you. Now, go. Jon and I will handle things from here."

Robb looked like he wanted to argue further, but one hard look from their father was enough to quell whatever he had to say. "Aye, father," Robb replied sullenly as he was helped to his feet by the two Winterfell men that had been aiding him with holding the horn.

"See to it that no harm comes to my son," their father ordered of the two men before they half led, half carried Robb away from the two of them and towards the back of the village with Grey Wind following close on their heels.

With his brother now safely on his way towards the rear, Jon took a moment to harden his emotions before turning back around to face the wall. 'The battlefield is no place for mercy or honor,' he recalled his Master lecturing him on more than one occasion. 'Mercy and honor are for before and after a battle. But once blades have been drawn, one's honor and mercy will more than likely get them killed.'

The wooden wall before him shook as the attacking wildlings finally reached them. Even with the avalanche burying most of them, there was still a lot of enemies they had to fight against. Drawing his lightsaber, Jon activated the blade and held it before his face. Beside him, Ghost growled slightly as the walls shaking became more and more evident. 'The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force. The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force.'

Hearing the wall break, Jon ended his internal mantra and lowered his lightsaber into a guard. "For the North and all her people!" his father bellowed as several spots in the wall gave way and wildlings started pouring through.

The battle hadn't even truly started and yet Alfyn knew that they were seriously fucked. The windstorm that shot lightning powerful enough to obliterate his clan was one thing. But now with that wretched horn being blown and bringing down part of the cliff face that they were being forced towards, his clan and those that'd allied with him were all starting to scatter. "Hold da line, you fuckers!" he heard Weeper shouting, trying to get some sort of order back into those nearest to him as everyone started panicking.

'A fool's errand, Weeper,' Crowkiller seethed as he could do little more than watch as his clan and their allies trampled over one another as they tried to get away from the cliff side. Unfortunately, they only had two directions to go. Forward towards Hardhome, or back where they came from. 'And going back is not an option,' he cursed, watching the landslide getting closer and closer to the middle of his army. Fortunately, he was far enough in the front to avoid the landslide, but the same could not be said for most of his army. Some foolishly tried running towards the windstorm, whether to avoid the landslide or because they were being pushed, he didn't know. All he knew was that was a death wish as those who even got close ended up becoming nothing more than ash in the wind the moment one of the lightning bolts struck them. 'This was exactly what they wanted!' he realized with anger. 'That sorcerer fuck pushed us towards the cliffs…and they musta used the fucking Horn of Winter to bring it down on our fuckin heads! Mance…you fuckin cunt! I knew you would bring about the ruin of the free folk!'

"Push forward!" He yelled, throwing a few of his clansmen forward. "We push forward and kill the sorcerer fucker! The so-called Wolves of the North and the traitor Mance!"

'I'm going to fuckin kill you Mance!' Alfyn seethed as he was helpless to do anything but watch as the rear of his army was swallowed by snow, ice and stone. 'I'm going to shove my spear up your arse and pull it out your lying fuckin mouth!'