What if Ned Stark Believed The Night's Watch Deserter скачать в хорошем качестве

What if Ned Stark Believed The Night's Watch Deserter

What if Ned Stark Believed The Night's Watch Deserter Discord:   / discord   YT:    / @threeeyedtheorist   Voice Acting & Narration: Steven Waters @bobablackfly602 What if Ned Stark Believed The Night’s Watch Deserter? Let’s explore the depths of it in the video. The morning mist clings to the heather like the breath of ghosts as Ned Stark watches the man brought before him in chains. Will, they call him—a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch, marked by the black cloak that hangs torn and bloodied from his shoulders. But it is not the state of his clothing that gives Ned pause; it is the look in the man’s eyes. Terror so profound it seems to have carved lines into his weathered face overnight. The assembled men of Winterfell’s household guard shift uncomfortably as Will trembles before their lord. This is not the trembling of cold, nor even of fear at facing execution. This is something deeper, something primal that speaks to the oldest fears buried in men’s hearts. Ned has presided over executions before. He has seen men face death with courage, with cowardice, with resignation. But he has never seen anything like the haunted desperation that radiates from this broken ranger. Every instinct honed by years of war and lordship screams that this man speaks truth, no matter how impossible that truth might be. Will(voice cracking): The white walkers, my lord. I know how it sounds, I know what you must think of me. But they’re real. They’re coming. Ser Waymar Royce, Gared—they’re dead. Most lords would dismiss such ravings as the fever dreams of a man driven mad by winter’s hardships. The white walkers are children’s stories, tales told by old wives to frighten babes into obedience. But as Ned studies Will’s face, he sees no madness there—only the terrible clarity of a man who has witnessed the impossible. Robb stands beside his father, his young face a mask of confusion and growing concern. At fifteen, he has heard the legends, but like most, he has never truly believed them. Jon Snow watches from the back, his bastard’s position keeping him apart from the proceedings, yet his dark eyes miss nothing. Theon Greyjoy lounges against a post, affecting boredom, but Ned notices how his hand rests unconsciously on his sword hilt. Ned: Tell me again, Will. Tell me exactly where you encountered these… creatures. Will: North of the Haunted Forest, my lord. Three leagues beyond the Last Hearth’s furthest holdings. There’s a grove there, marked by three standing stones. That’s where Ser Waymar ordered us to investigate reports of wildling movements. Will: We found them arranged in a pattern, my lord. Bodies of wildling children, but… wrong. Cut apart and arranged like some mad artist’s work. And cold, so cold that our breath froze in our throats even though it was only early autumn. Ned feels the weight of Ice at his back, the ancestral greatsword of House Stark that has taken countless lives in service to justice. The law is clear—desertion from the Night’s Watch is punishable by death. Yet something in Will’s testimony gnaws at him like a wolf worrying a bone. Ned: You speak of patterns, of arrangements. These were not random killings? Will: No, my lord. Nothing random about it. They were… calling cards. Messages. Warnings. And when they came for us, when the white walkers stepped from the trees like winter given form… Ser Waymar tried to fight. Brave boy, but his sword shattered like ice when it met their blade. And then… then they brought him back. A shudder runs through the assembled men. Even Theon’s affected nonchalance cracks slightly. Will: I ran, my lord. I broke my vows and ran like a craven dog. But someone had to warn the realm. Someone had to tell the truth of what’s coming. Ned stands in silence for a long moment, feeling the eyes of his men upon him. They expect him to pronounce sentences quickly, to end this madness with clean steel. But the Warden of the North carries responsibilities that go beyond simple justice. If there is even a chance that Will speaks truth… Ned: You abandoned your post, Will. You broke sacred vows sworn before gods and men. The penalty is death, and by the old gods and the new, I will see it carried out. Will: I understand, my lord. I ask only that you remember what I’ve told you. The realm must be warned. Ned draws Ice, the Valyrian steel blade ringing as it leaves its scabbard. The great sword gleams in the morning light, its edge honed to a razor’s sharpness. With practiced efficiency, he carries out the sentence, but as Will’s head rolls away from his shoulders, Ned makes a silent vow. #gameofthrones #gameofthroneswhatif #whatif