I have a Mount and Blade panel and I kill people in the Game of Thrones

Dickens is a native of the Gifted Lands, living in the village of Grey Crow near the Wolfswood. He and his family have lived here for generations ever since the land north of the Wolfswood was given to the Night's Watch by a Stark thousands of years ago.

Dickens' family was just one of many small families living in the village. Their ancestors had neither military nobles nor knights.

But things were different for Dickens' generation.

Due to the increasing rampage of the wildlings and the decline of the Night's Watch, they could no longer protect the numerous small villages with granted lands. As a result, a large number of villages and towns were abandoned. Residents with connections either fled to live under other great lords in the North, or were forced to gather in some towns with strong self-defense capabilities.

Gray Crow Village is backed by the Wolf Forest and has abundant supplies. Even if the long night comes, hunting can sustain the livelihood of tens of thousands of people for a long time. The second son of the Dickens family is a well-known bandit. Relying on this relationship, Dickens is a gangster. Not only did he become the head of the village, he also worked hard in the busy farming season, and took a group of farmers who were unwilling to be lonely to join his brother in the slack season.

Even though anyone who dared to do this in peacetime would have had his ashes scattered eight times by the Night's Watch, the times are worse than they used to be. Old Bear is so short of manpower that he doesn't even have enough rangers for daily patrols, let alone these villagers who often act as friendly bandits.

In short, except for the elderly waiting to die, leaving their hometown is a very common thing for the residents of the donated land.

This was also the reason why Lyon failed to recruit any new soldiers from the North along the way, and it was also his motivation to travel hundreds of miles to Grey Crow Village to recruit.

But Dickens, who was lying in ambush in the woods, certainly didn't know that the destination of the night watchmen opposite was his village, otherwise he would not dare to rob them even if he had eight more courage.

After all, actively provoking the Night's Watch and accidentally injuring them are two different things. No matter how weak the Night's Watch is, they can still sack a mere Grey Crow Village even if they don't defend the Great Wall.

However, just now a night watchman rode outside the woods and shot and injured several of his brothers with his powerful bow and fast horse. Dickens found it hard to swallow this humiliation.

"Brother, rush out and fight them!" Dickens' younger brother, a famous bandit leader near the Wolf Forest, slapped his thigh, cursed at the complacent Hood, and was about to go up with a dung fork.

"Calm down, they don't know how many of us there are. If we rush out now and alert the night watchmen, allowing them to escape, that's two whole carriages of weapons!" Dickens slapped his brother's head in frustration and taught him earnestly for a long time, but looking at his brother's indifferent, clear and stupid eyes, he knew that the other party did not understand what he meant at all.

As the only smart chief in the family today, Dickens knew how to give orders and did not need his younger brother, a bandit whose mind was filled with riding and killing, to teach him how to do things.

The second brother was treated like a beaten dog by the eldest brother in front of all his younger brothers. Although he felt very embarrassed, he thought that what the eldest brother said had not been wrong so far, and it was with the guidance of the eldest brother that he became a big bandit with hundreds of soldiers in the gift land surrounded by wolves. So he sat down, suppressing his anger.

In fact, this is exactly the case. If the Dickens family did not need someone to be in charge, and if Dickens had devoted himself to this no-cost business, the number of bandits and villagers who would have ambushed him would have been more than the two hundred in the woods, and there would have been at least thousands.

"Brother, why haven't you come yet? Do you think these cowardly crows will see the ambush and return the same way?" After waiting for a while, the second brother couldn't help but get impatient and anxious when he saw that there was no sign of the main force except for a few alert rangers on the road.

"No, the road we are guarding is the only road heading south nearby. If we don't want to spend two more days on the journey, this group of night watchmen can only take this route."

Dickens was not very confident when he said this, but in order to prevent his brother and subordinates from seeing his hesitation and thus affecting the morale of the army, he pretended to be in control of the situation.

"Report!" Suddenly, a bandit ran towards Dickens quickly, speaking with a long tail tone.

"Speak." Dickens saw the happy look on the face of the bandit who came to report the news. He breathed a sigh of relief and admired his own wisdom.

"The Night's Watch did not change direction and headed straight towards our ambush circle!"

As expected, Dickens was delighted. But when he saw his brother and many other bandits were puzzled, they couldn't understand why the other party went in knowing there was an ambush. What other explanation could there be, other than the leader being a fool and not afraid of death?

"Doesn't the captain of the Night's Watch look like a young noble?"

"Yes, that young nobleman was too lazy to even ride a horse. He laid on the carriage to command the troops, and the infantry following behind him didn't even take their equipment." The little follower who came to report the news was even more amazing. He sang the same tune with Dickens, which made Dickens look extremely wise, and the bandits were amazed.

"That's it. The leaders of the Night's Watch are usually fools with no experience and their heads are full of honor and women. They think we are just a small group of blind bandits, but they don't know that our number is several times theirs, and one person's spit can drown them. Even if the veterans make cautious suggestions, the young nobles will turn a deaf ear to them. Look, they are here to die." Dickens stood up, drew his sword and pointed it forward. The bandits followed his gaze and saw a dozen Night's Watchmen with bows leading the way, and the recruits behind the carriages were slowly taking down shields and swords from the carriages, as if they were not ready to engage the enemy at all.

At this moment, Dickens inexplicably had an illusion, as if what he was holding in his hand was not a sword, but a fan with strange bird feathers on it.