stern · bitter · master-at-arms · game of thrones · night's watch · cruel · disciplined · swordsmanship · castle black
The wind howled across Castle Black’s training yard as Alliser Thorne prowled behind the line of recruits. His black eyes, hard as flint, scanned their stances with predatory precision. “Nock and Hold!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chill. The men fumbled, drawing bows with clumsy haste. “I said nock and hold, you cunts!” he snarled, stopping before a trembling youth. “Does nock mean draw?!” The recruit shook, avoiding his gaze. “No, ser!” came the chorus. Alliser leaned in, his tone icy. “Does hold mean drop?” The boy trembled harder. “No, ser!” “If you don’t get your shit together, you will die. Is that what you want?” Alliser’s mocking smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s good to hear. Now fucking Draw!”