After living a tragedy that traumatized his mind, our protagonist after dying appears in the world of Game of Thrones as a baby, however, suffers the misfortune of almost being turned into a white walker. Join Blake as he endures the curse of the walkers while trying to save his family.
(POV Oswin)
"Raise shields!"
"Resist!"
"Charge!"
"Spears!"
"Raise shields!"
"..."
"Right flank."
"Defensive fortification!"
Orders poured from Oswin's mouth, as in front of him, 50 warriors of the tribe raised their shields, and their spears, slashing with their swords, advanced, retreated, and finally formed a square protecting the 4 flanks.
It was an incredible sight, as all 50 men were synchronized, advancing and retreating at the same time.
"Raise formation and dismount!"
Oswin watched with a sly grin as the 50 men got into formation, only to then disperse and drop to the ground, exhausted.
They had done the same thing for a full hour, and his warriors' legs and arms were shaking from all the exertion.
"They're getting better every day."
Wymond walked over to Oswin and offered him a Wineskin to drink.
"With this, we'll finish off those Ice-river clan bastards, no matter how many there are."
The formation in question that Oswin had everyone in the clan learn was phalanxes.
It happened while he was recovering from wounds, shortly after Blake told him his plan to attack the Ice-river clans.
Since many of the warriors were wounded, Blake had called up all the young men who were capable of wielding a sword, but who had not proven themselves enough to be called tribal warriors nor received their armor.
Blake had arranged them in a group of 50 men, 5 columns, and 10 ranks, among whom were also the spear-women.
He had armed them with swords, shields, and spears, while the women were in the last line of the group carrying medium bows, shields, and short swords, making them shoot as the group retreated and advanced.
He had watched as he made them advance and retreat awkwardly for hours, marching around the tribe for hours as well.
"I will not trade a tribesman for one of the Ice-river clans, with this, we will finish them off more efficiently."
That was what he heard when he asked him what he was trying to do now.
Oswin had laughed at his son.
He didn't see how these boys, still green, could do what he wanted.
Blake didn't flinch at his laughter, but when he finished laughing, he saw him crack a smile, proposing a wager.
Two months would be more than enough time for all the warriors of the tribe to recover. After that time, he would take 50 of his best men, and they would face the group he was training.
Oswin agreed with a chuckle. His son Blake was very clever and very skilled with his hands, but he was not a warrior, he had never held a weapon against an enemy, besides a single occasion, and outside of the brief sessions where he practiced his archery, he had never done anything resembling fighting.
The men had to be tanned in continuous battles until they were called true warriors.
What his son was doing now seemed more like a dance than anything else.
Oswin watched as the days passed and this group improved.
"Raise shields!"
"Resist!"
"Charge!"
"Spears!"
"Repeat!"
As their blows grew louder.
"Raise shields!"
"Resist!"
"Charge!"
"Spears!"
"Repeat!"
As their steps became more synchronized.
"Raise shields!"
"Resist!"
"Charge!"
"Spears!"
"Repeat!"
As the arrows were more accurate and faster.
"Raise shields!"
"Resist!"
"Charge!"
"Spears!"
"Repeat!"
As their footsteps seemed to make the floor rumble.
"Raise shields!"
"Resist!"
"Charge!"
"Spears!"
"Repeat!"
When the two months were up, and Oswin had regained his arm strength, the young man no longer looked as green as he remembered.
The confrontation took place on the outskirts of the tribe, 50 vs 50.
Oswin was at the head of his best warriors and watched as the Blake-trained group walked towards them from the tribe.
Their footsteps sounded in unison, like the rumbling of several giants.
Blake had said it would be dangerous to do the simulation with real weapons, so he handed out shields, wooden swords, and blunt spears, plus armor to protect all the tribesmen.
Blake would stay out of the fight, along with Wymond who was still recovering but came out to watch the fun. They would call the warriors who took a hit in a deadly spot, the group with men alive at the end would be the winner.
Oswin charged with his men at full speed towards the group, they wanted to break formation and finish off these boys who were barely half his age.
"Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang!!!"
They crashed into the shields of the front rank almost knocking them down.
"Hold on!"
Cam's voice was heard, commanding Blake's group.
They managed to push them back for a few steps, but the boys managed to resist long enough to completely stop the onslaught.
"Charge!"
The group in unison pushed their shields creating a small gap.
"Spears!"
Wooden sticks shot out from between the shields hitting all of Oswin's men going on the offensive.
"Shields!"
Before they could do anything, the shields were lowered again.
"Advance!"
They stepped forward pushing them back.
"Charge!"
And Oswin watched in horror as the action was repeated and more of his warriors were hit.
"It won't be that easy boys!"
Oswin grabbed one of the shields, pulling it hard and yanking it out of the hand of the young man holding it.
"No fear boys!"
"AAAAHHH!"
Oswin took advantage of the gap and undid the front row by kicking and pulling the shields along with his warriors.
"Spears!"
The second row hit them again with their spears, knocking 5 or 6 more of his warriors out of the game.
"Shields!"
Only when the second row of men threw down their spears, drawing their shields and short swords, Oswin understood how terrible the grouping was.
This would not end until they were all dead, they would continue to beat them without letting them take a breath.
"No!"
Oswin tried to grab the shield again from the muscular woman in front of him and break the second row.
"Spears!"
The shields opened revealing 3 spears that hit him at once, in various parts of his body.
"Father, you're out too!"
Oswin came out of the battle dazed after hearing Blake's shout, imagining what his men grouped in that form would be able to do, who they would be able to kill.
"Zoon, Zoon, Zoon, Zoon, Zoon!"
Oswin looked at the back rank of the group, which consisted entirely of spear-women. Since the mock battle began they had drawn their bows, shooting imaginary arrows, Oswin wondered, if they were shooting real arrows, how many would they have killed by now?
"Phalanx."
It came as a spit out of Oswin's mouth, he didn't completely like it, it sounded like a dirty trick and not the way a warrior fought, but using the formation he knew he could tear any army apart, no matter how many numbers they were outnumbered.
"Truly he is a monster."
*****************************************************
Blake arrived at the village after a week of walking with Ygritte sitting on his shoulders.
The warriors who had accompanied him from the outpost fortress exchanged positions with those who remained standing guard at the Watchtower, in the middle of the road between the fortress and the black axe tribe.
Blake took out a pocket watch and opened it. Inside you could see a triangle in the center, with twelve notches around it, it was a sundial he had built to better orient himself during the hours of the day. It was made of wood, and he had given one just like it to the members of the tribe who most needed to keep track of the time of day.
Many took it as another of Blake's curious inventions, but it quickly became very popular within the tribe, and everyone wanted their own.
Blake estimated that it was 2 p.m. when he arrived at the tribe.
"Blake!"
"It's Blake and Ygritte!"
"Blake arrived!"
Blake was immediately surrounded by dozens of boys and girls, there were so many that Blake had lost his entire field of vision, only seeing heads, torsos, and skins.
"Kyaaaaaaaa!"
Ygritte shouted as they all swung at Blake, with her sitting on his shoulders.
"Freeze!"
Blake shouted drowning in the sea of children, and they stood still in unison.
"Back up, 2 steps!"
Blake waved again, and the children backed away, still with laughter in their mouths, letting him take a breath.
Then all the kids watched, with whispers and giggles, as Blake took a large leather bag he had under his arm, and opened it pulling out a wooden bear.
"Dan! Here's the bear you asked for."
A boy stepped forward taking the bear and thanking Blake. It wasn't a perfect carving, it had the shape and some details, but it hadn't been a highly polished job, but Blake had made them during the nights on the journey from the black axe tribe to the fortress, and back again.
"Lyn son of Cam! Here's the giant you asked for."
"Oly! Here is the warrior you asked for."
"Saly!..."
One by one they were all called out, until at last most of the kids were playing and appreciating the sculptures.
Blake had in front of him a little girl about 10 years old with her arms outstretched waiting for her toy, but already the backpack was empty.
"Sorry Osha, I couldn't make the Weirwood tree you asked for."
Blake patted the bag showing there was nothing else inside, and watched in slow motion, as the little girl's eyes watered.
"Bad Blake!"
Ygritte yelled from her shoulders. And Blake sighed touching the head of the girl who was about to cry.
"I'll make your toy soon, and I'll also make a warrior just like your big brother, so you'll remember him."
"Fine, I'll tell Daddy!"
Blake watched the girl run back to her home. Osha was Cam's eldest daughter, and the girl's older brother had been summoned to the outpost fortress as he was a skilled warrior, the girl was sad that her brother was leaving, and he did not make the toy he promised her, so he would make it up to her later.
"Let's go home."
Blake walked with Ygritte, amid the tribe, to their hut.
The tribesmen's houses were still more or less the same as the first ones he made, the only difference was that now they dug a meter underground and made part of the cabin underground, this way they could keep warmer during storms and light snowfalls.
The main buildings, however, such as the workshop, kitchen, storerooms, and stables. They had been remodeled leaving the old huts that he had learned to make thanks to viral internet videos.
Blake had seen how a house was made several times, but he didn't have the materials and modern equipment to mimic them.
Although he had been able to mine a nearby quarry in the Frostfangs thanks to the mining equipment he managed to trade with the Night's Watch. Blake had not been able to muster the resources to make anything resembling cement, and the nails he did manage to trade were long and thick, made of bronze and low-grade iron.
Blake had a way to make a sturdy and even beautiful and stylish building to look at, it just wasn't practical in this climate. Out of options he finally decided to make use of the knowledge he had learned from his older sister.
His sister, in his old world, had studied architecture at the university, and for her thesis at the end of her student career, she took courage and chose to do it on Chinese architecture in the Song dynasty.
Yingzao Fashi, a huge book that talked about Chinese architecture, was the basis of his thesis, and his father had spent a lot of money to hire a translator to give him the texts of a later edition that gathered much more data.
His sister did a bloody battle for 6 months against that book while doing her thesis, and he was her assistant during all that time helping her to prepare everything.
******************************************
"You should abandon these things and stay and work with me in Father's vineyard."
Said the annoyed boy while trying to shape a model where several ancient Chinese buildings were shown, to scale.
"Stop talking nonsense and help me with this!"
Said his sister with dark circles under her eyes as she made models on her computer.
"Mmm, the pagoda... It's a little crooked."
The boy looked at his scaled figure of the building with a critical look.
"Damn!"
His sister threw herself on the bed, sobbing.
"You picked a somewhat overdone subject, you should have gone for something simpler."
The boy lay down next to her as she spoke.
"I want to be like Mom, she worked so hard to succeed in her career."
They both looked at the ceiling of the room, continuing to talk.
"Mom also failed and went bankrupt 6 times, if it wasn't for Father who kept working in the vineyard, we would be on the street now."
His sister's response to his statement was only a groan.
"Don't worry, I will stay working with Father, when you fail, I will give you all the money you need, but you will have to call me big brother."
"Hahahahahaha."
His sister's response was an uproarious laugh.
"Silly boy."