[H1][center]The dark boar[/center][/h1]


Gerald was home. It'd be around nine years since he last set foot in the Westerlands.

Honestly there wasn't much he missed.

It was just so boring down here, it was always a light shade of Orange no matter where you went. It didn't compliment his green eyes, not very much did. He was always an oddball, born last, he found a friend in Brynn, but in return Brynn was cold and rude, once he was taken away, Gerald drifted from the rest of his family, he entertained himself by traveling the riverlands, joining a mercenary group and learning to fight. After that, Gerald joined the nights watch, nobody cared, Tyget was busy learning to rule, and his father was half in the grave already. He met Brynn again, who went by Tyron now, he told Gerald that he never liked him, coldly, and then commanded him to clean the privy, he'd never forgiven Tyron. Now they sent him back to secure some men, why they trusted him, Gerald didn't know.

"Ey, Gerald, a host of Crakehall men is straight ahead, they look pissed." Gerald had already seen them, he was just wondering why they were there.
"Thanks Poxy, I could never have seen them." Gerald replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Poxy looked at him with a tilted head, like a dumb dog. Poxy was an orphan, raised by the brothers of the watch, when he was young a pox scarred his face, as they didn't know his name, Poxy had to do. He was also dumb as a giant with a sword stuck in his head.
Gerald sighed before slowing his speech and explaining himself.
"I could see the army, Poxy, I didn't need that." Poxy frowned, before smiling again.
"Maybe they'll sing us a song, welcome us, like Lords do." He smiled with eyes closed, a look he did often. Gerald rolled his eyes.
"No Poxy, they won't." He said, gripping the reins of his horse.
"Though my brother would be happy to sing to you if you asked nicely." He said, a devious grin appearing on his face. Poxy smiled, a gullible smile.
"Your brother's a bard?" [i]A bard of battle maybe.[/i] Gerald thought to himself, giggling at the thought.
"No, but he tries, it may sound like yelling, but smile and clap." Gerald's face went red, and he held a fist to his mouth to prevent from laughing, curse his quick wit, it'd get him killed someday he knew, but for now this was too funny. Poxy laughed out loud, rubbing a gauntlet through his shoulder length brown hair.
"Man, you really believe me that gullible? I've heard of your brother, he'd have me killed in an instant if I tried that." Gerald's eyebrows went up, he didn't expect Poxy to be that smart, he had only heard of Poxy's stupidity, he'd never met him face to face until going out on this mission, apparently he drank a tankard of wine because the others told him it was magic, perhaps a lie?

Finally a Crakehall soldier noticed them, he was holding up the banner, a brown boar, a proud beast, quick to attack without provocation, similar to Tyget, Gerald had to smile at the comparison. The soldier walked out into the ground between the crows and the camp, planting his spear in the ground and saluting. 
"Prince Gerald, it's been too long, I assume you'd like to speak to King Tyget." Prince? Gerald didn't know why, but he liked that.
"'King' Tyget is hopped up on his own power, tell him to stop this nonsense, and to meet me as an equal, as a brother, not a king." Poxy gave Gerald a supporting frown, nodding his head as he did, and turning to the guard.
"Tell him we're black brothers, not his servants, so we expect to be treated as guests." Gerald had to stay frowning, to appear intimidating, though his five-foot-nothing frame ruined that illusion, but he was surprised at Poxy's boldness. The soldier nodded and walked back into camp.

[hr]
[i]A minute later[/i]
[hr]

The soldier returned, accompanied by a few more of them, walking in two single file lines, they stopped, stomping loudly in their metal boots. They backed away to the left and right, and a man rode between them, Gerald couldn't help but clap, a soldier gave him a look that said "Don't do that", Gerald didn't care, what was he gonna do? Beat him up?

Riding in on a horse, was obviously one of the captains of this base. though Gerald couldn't recognize the man, he was certainly old, quite large for an old man too.
"Gerald Crakehall." The man's voice was deep and gravelly, and Gerald felt like this was the kind of voice an old hero would have. Gerald shrugged, and climbed off of his horse, his black cloak billowing behind him. He felt so short, a trait of the Crakehalls, there was a reason they were compared to boars.
"Here." Gerald responded. The captain looked like a Tywin Lannister type, unable to smile and simply looking through everyone.
"You come to bring men, yet dare insult my king? I should cut you asunder for this... In fact..." He climbed off of his horse, drawing a blade. Gerald was shocked, he wasn't expecting a fight, but he quickly collected himself, he'd killed men much more experienced then this old man could hope to be.
"I will." He said, quietly. Gerald laughed out loud.
"Cocky now aren't we old man? Well then..." He drew his sword, and he heard Poxy doing the same.
"Let me show you the power of the watch!" He ran forwards, with Poxy running behind.