Game of Thrones: Joffrey the Chosen

After traversing the rotten Neck Marsh, the group finally reached the true entrance to the North.

Surrounded by swamps and quicksand, three towers made of black basalt stand on the marshland, firmly guarding the only causeway leading to the North.

"No siege tower can withstand this black swamp!"

Jori Caesar, the captain of the guard sent by Duke Eddard to greet them, introduced them with his back straight.

"If we want to attack, the only options are to storm the main gate or build ladders while braving a hail of arrows."

He then pointed to the city wall covered with slippery moss and said with great enthusiasm, "But as long as you push it with a rake, you can make sure they fall in and get stuck in the mud."

"If someone is short, they probably won't even be seen."

He quickly covered his mouth as soon as he finished speaking.

Robert stood on his horse at the foot of the city gate, looking up and squinting. Surprisingly, he didn't curse or grumble, but just muttered something.

"It's a good place to stake out."

Joffrey chimed in with a perfunctory praise: "Yes, yes, Carlin Bay truly lives up to its reputation as the formidable fortress of the North."

But Tyrion, the "little devil," never one to back down in a verbal exchange, immediately retorted with a sarcastic retort.

"I heard that there were twenty towers here in ancient times." The little devil walked unsteadily to the base of the wall and reached out to dig into the moss-covered cracks in the stone.

He broke off a piece of weathered gravel and tossed it around in his hand.

"What? Have all the stonemasons in the North switched to ice carving these days?"

"Or is the Stark family a bit strapped for cash and doesn't even have the money for repairs?"

The captain of the guard opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to refute.

Joffrey spoke first.

"Uncle, in recent years the weather has been favorable and the kingdom is very peaceful."

"Wouldn't it be better to use the money to maintain residents' homes or prepare for the harvest festival feast than to throw it into this bottomless quagmire?"

He rubbed his itchy neck.

It took twelve days to cross the Neck Marsh, and Joffrey felt sticky all over.

So I just wanted to finish this quickly and go inside to find a place to sit down.

Even though someone tried to smooth things over, the captain of the guard's pride remained frozen on his face.

He glanced at Robert's ambiguous expression and the large group of people waiting behind him, and finally gave a reluctant bow.

"Your Majesty, the room has been prepared. It's damp and chilly here, please get some rest."

Having said that, he turned and led the way.

His silhouette looked somewhat forlorn.

Upon entering the castle courtyard of Carlin Bay, Joffrey could indeed glimpse traces of its former glory from the site.

Including the hundred northern soldiers stationed here, the remaining three towers are enough to accommodate the king's three hundred followers.

Sleeping on the floor in the lobby counts too.

After entering the room, Joffrey cleared a dry corner, wrapped himself in a thick cloak, and snuggled in comfortably, waiting for the servants to set up the bed.

He's staying with Tyrion tonight; after all, the guy doesn't take up much space.

The stone walls were damp with moisture, and the dust that had accumulated over a thousand years gave off a musty smell.

But the imp paid no attention to the shabby surroundings, touching and looking around, and finally strolled over to the servant Maurice, pulling out a piece of suspiciously colored jerky from his bulging bag.

Then he held it to his nose and sniffed it, took out a small silver bottle, sprinkled some pepper on it, and began to tear into it with great force.

"Want some?"

The chewing sounds were particularly clear in the silent stone chamber.

Joffrey frowned and looked away.

"You really have a good appetite."

Yesterday, a knight from the Riverlands, incredibly brave, somehow managed to capture a lizard lion.

He excitedly carried it on his back and presented it to Robert.

The king laughed heartily, accepted the gift, and casually rewarded the knight with a golden dragon.

Then he turned around and threw it into the carriage, never looking at it a second time.

No one knows whether it was intentional or unintentional, but the carriage just happened to be carrying the Queen's luggage.

Those bared, sharp teeth were positioned directly opposite the door.

Amidst screams, Tyrion, who was passing by, picked up the thing.

He enthusiastically had the skin peeled off and then personally roasted it over a fire until it was charred black.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

With meat in his mouth, the little devil mumbled, "That's how everyone in the swamp eats."

"The Swamp People even eat frogs raw," Joffrey said irritably, always very cautious about his diet. "Why don't you try it?"

"A frog?" The little devil's eyes lit up, and he deliberately looked around the room. "Where is it? I didn't hear it croaking."

He glanced at the hunting dog sitting by the door, feigning sleep, and leaned closer to the small fireplace burning nearby.

"Could it be that some hungry dog ​​stole it first?"

Sandor Clegane didn't even lift his eyelids, only his arms, which were crossed, tightened slightly.

Joffrey didn't want to cause any more trouble, so he didn't respond.

Seeing that no one paid any attention to him, Tyrion felt very bored and casually threw the remaining half of the lizardman meat out the window.

The stone chamber quickly fell silent.

Only the occasional crackling of damp firewood and the endless rustling from the depths of the swamp in the pitch-black night remained.

Heading north from Carlin Bay, the weather didn't improve; thick clouds pressed down, as if a heavy snowfall was imminent.

On both sides of the road were vast fields and graves, after all, this place was called the Wasteland.

When they were still three days away from Winterfell, the caravan stopped again.

There's no particular reason; it's just that everyone needs to wait for the Queen to reassemble her "creaky ghost."

However, apart from Robert, no one dared to call him that.

Joffrey breathed a sigh of relief when the enormous castle finally appeared on the horizon.

finally reached.

It's all or nothing; this time, we must take down the Stark family.

This trip was so exhausting.

Upon arriving at the city, Joffrey was able to get a close look at the heart of the North.

It was not a magnificent city like King's Landing, but a huge castle built of ancient gray rocks, for the residence of his lord and his vassals.

Even including the winter towns outside the city, the permanent population here would not exceed 20,000.

This is sufficient proof that the northern border is vast and sparsely populated.

Under the banner of the direwolves, the iron gates of the city slowly rose, and the king, accompanied by two royal guards, rode into the city first.

He leaped off his horse and slammed Duke Ed into his arms.

"Ned!"

The king laughed loudly and called the duke by his childhood name.

"You haven't changed at all."

Eddard broke free from his embrace and knelt on one knee: "Your Majesty, Winterfell awaits your command."

The Queen, accompanied by Joffrey's brother and sister, walked in from outside the city.

Of course, her creaky car couldn't get through the door.

After the parents greeted each other, Joffrey and the others also formally introduced themselves to one another.

Eddard Stark was a tall, aloof man with brown hair, gray eyes, and a few white hairs sticking out of his neatly trimmed beard, making him look older than his thirty-five years.

But his five little Starks...

Joffrey suddenly realized there was a lot to be done here.

You, with your thick eyebrows and big eyes, have four red-haired children of your own!