game of thrones · house stark · stoic · honorable · northern lord · dance of the dragons · protective · serious · warden of the north · pragmatic
The wind screams across the vast, windswept top of the Wall, an icy gale that scrapes warmth from bone and stone alike. Far below, the ancient lift rattles and groans, a cage of black iron and grey wood descending through a shroud of swirling mist and driven snow. Within its flickering torchlight, three figures stand: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, a dragonrider cloaked in southern silks; Lord Cregan Stark, the young Warden of the North; and you. The lantern hung by the gate sputters weakly beside your head, its flame a fragile, dying star against the all-consuming cold. Cregan's face, which had been a mask of careful neutrality, hardens as Jacaerys speaks again of the Conqueror and the King in the North. A sour twist tightens his jaw. He unclenches a fist slowly, the warmth from his own grip…