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@haltncrowley
What do you prefer your house thermostat set at, in degrees Celcius?
64 or lower
65-67
68-69
70-72
73 or higher
No preference
What do you prefer your house thermostat set at, in degrees Celcius?
64 or lower
65-67
68-69
70-72
73 or higher
No preference
CELCIUS???
In. What measurements sorry
Thinking about sick Halt
Thinking about tired Halt
Thinking about angry Halt
Thinking about sick, tired and angry Halt
Daily incorrect quote, 76!
Will: Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams.
Halt: When I find out who they are, I’m going to punch them in the face.
Day 3 - Quiver
She should have know better than to leave her quiver outside during the night. Will had even warned her that others might try to prank her if she didn’t pay close attention to her belongings. And like so often, her mentor had been right.
“Looking for something?” Will asked casually when Maddie was going through her bags. The girl mumbled something, too soft for him to hear. But he did have an idea what it could be.
Maddie was very well aware that, if she admitted she was looking for something, he would lecture her about it. On the other hand, he might be able to help her. Although she didn’t think he would.
After going though her bags as well as her blankets and anything else, she gave up.
“I can’t find my quiver,” she answered him. “I had been repairing a couple of arrows and had left my quiver outside to dry. I was so focused on the arrows and making sure that they were done well, that I forgot to put it in my tent before sleeping.”
Will hummed in a way that she recognised as disapproval. She already felt terrible, and this didn’t help.
“Do you really have to rub it in?” she muttered, peeling off the bark of the log she was sitting on.
Will stopped for a moment, pursing his lips.
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “And I think it’s good to refresh that memory of yours about taking care of your equipment.”
Maddie groaned, tilting her head backwards.
“No, please, I still remember it from last time,” she tried but her mentor had decided she would.
“In that case, you can spend your free morning to write down all the rules then. And as usual, in alphabetical order.”
Will hid his smile by taking a long sip of his coffee. It wasn’t the first time she had forgotten to bring her equipment back inside. Perhaps now she would learn her lesson, he thought.
“Why the long face? The morning has just begun!”
Maddie tried her best to act like she had heard him, but she failed miserably.
“Morning, Gil,” Will greeted their Commandant. “Maddie is just upset that I gave her homework to do this morning.”
Gilan walked around the log and sat down next to Will. He bent a bit forward to look at the girl.
“Oh? And what kind of exercise did Will give you?”
Maddie looked from her mentor to the Commandant, then let out a long sigh.
“Writing down how to take care of my equipment. In alphabetical order.”
Gilan side eyed Will, who once again paid more attention to his coffee.
“Perhaps you will remember it then,” the Commandant said. He gently poked Will’s side. “Compared to Halt, you’re easy going. Remember when we had forgotten something?”
Will frowned at first, then slowly nodded.
“And if I remember! He made me run three rounds around Wensley, and then to that tree not for away from the cabin. You know, that old, rotten one.”
“The one with the broken branches, that had fallen down and were standing like poles in the ground? Yeah, that was indeed a terrible round.”
Maddie suddenly didn’t feel that bad about writing. If it was true, that they had to run so many rounds and so far, that her punishment wasn’t that bad.
She should have known something was going on when they stayed silent. A bit too silent, Maddie thought.
“You’re lying, there is no tree that looks like that,” she said. “I’ve run around Wensley often enough these past two years.”
Gilan and Will tried to keep serious faces, but eventually they burst out in laughter.
“It’s been a long time since I got to pull off such a joke,” Gilan snickered. He took a deep breath to calm down his laughter.
Will had controlled his laughter sooner and looked at Maddie.
“It’s true, that tree was a lie. But Halt did punish us for not taking care of our weapons and all. A night in a tree, it was.”
Maddie thought about it, then decided that Will’s punishment wasn’t that bad. She got up to get her writing kit, but Will stopped her.
“Leave the writing for now and rather go look for your quiver. You will have archery practice today.”
Maddie bit her lip, then looked at Will.
“Can’t I borrow yours for one time?” she asked, but he was already shaking his head before she had finished.
“And then what? Leaving me with none and forgetting about yours?” Will replied. “No, you lost it, so you will have to find it.”
Understanding that there was no other choice, Maddie slowly went around the Gathering Grounds, searching for her quiver.
When she was out of hearing reach, Gilan turned to Will.
“You don’t by any chance have it, do you?”
He was actually surprised to see that Will, once again, shook his head.
“I honestly do not. Had it been at home, I might have hidden it.” He finished his coffee and stood up, gathering his belongings to put them in his tent. “It’s actually a good exercise for her, perhaps she’ll find a way to solve it.”
A few hours later, Maddie was sitting in front of her tent. She hadn’t been able to find her quiver, even after asking nearly all Rangers and apprentices present. She hadn’t been able to participate in the archery training and instead had to endure the teasing of the others.
“I take you didn’t find it?”
Will had been asking around as well, but he hadn’t been lucky either. He had returned to their spot to see if she was there.
“I didn’t,” Maddie replied, her head hung low. She was too ashamed to look her mentor in the eye.
Will sat down next to her. At first, he wanted to lecture her, but seeing her this upset, he thought she had learnt her lesson.
“Then there’s nothing to do about it. You can only hope that it may be of use to someone else.”
Maddie hummed softly, biting her lip to stop herself from crying.
“Come now, it’s not the end of the world.” Will poked her side gently. “We can get you a new one soon enough. And until then, you can borrow my spare one.”
As usual, Will always carried two quivers. He could miss one, but he had hoped that Maddie would have found hers by now.
“Thank you,” she replied.
Will ruffled her hair, then got up to get his spare quiver and handed it to her after he had taken his arrows out.
Maddie put hers into it, then placed the quiver inside her tent. At least she wouldn’t make the same mistake, Will thought.
Day Two: Ruins
The past few hours, and even days, had been extremely tense. From Will riding all the way back to Castle Redmont to grab Baron Arald and Sir Rodney, to watching Halt, Arald and Rodney all come to close to death by the hands of the kalkara, to finally killing the last one. Now after Rodney and Will took care of Halt and Arald’s injuries, they could finally rest and restore their energy before returning.
Arald and Halt had been sleeping for the last couple hours, and while they did that Will busied himself with exploring around the castle ruins to find some branches and sticks they could use as wild fire. With a nice bundle in his arms, he returned to the temporary camp and was surprised to find Halt awake and sitting a little apart from their spot.
He was facing towards the ruined walls of the late Castle Gorlan, one leg drawn up to his chin and the injured one stretched out in front of him and looked lost in deep thought.
“Is he alright?” Will asked Rodney as he approached the knight. A hint of concern leaked through into his voice and Rodney hid a smile as he heard it.
“He’s fine,” he replied. “I think. Just thinking I’d assume.”
“About what?” Will asked and then realised that the question might seem a bit too invasive or personal.
“How should I know?” Rodney said, not unkindly. Will picked up on something in his voice that made him think that Rodney may know. But he decided he’d put his curiosity and questions to rest for the time being.
“Bring those sticks here and we’ll make some coffee,” Rodney was saying. “Halt’ll want some and I’m sure Arald will appreciate it when he wakes up. You picked a good collection here boy. These will light pretty easily and we’ll have some spares.”
As Will helped Rodney build the fire Arald began to stir. Rodney immediately ran over to him to make sure he was alright. Will lowered his head to the firewood to hide his grin. Over the years of living at the ward he had seen Arald and Rodney walking around together and he assumed they were good friends. These last couple days spent with them had proven to him that they were closer than just regular friends. It was obvious to everyone around them that they cared very deeply about each other.
“Rise and shine sleepy head,” Rodney teased as he helped Arald sit up. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Fine,” Arald said. “My back just hurts like all hell.”
“Getting torn up by a beast sent straight from the pits of Hell would do that to you.”
Arald ignored his friends teasing and looked over to where he had last seen Halt before he had fallen asleep.
“Where’d Halt go?”
“Over there.” Arald followed Rodney’s pointed finger to where the Ranger sat, still dissociating from the rest of the world. He looked at his friend with a knowing and caring look in his eyes, and it finally dawned on Rodney why Halt seemed more isolated at the moment. He hadn’t been there at the time, but he had heard what happened.
“Help me go to him?”
Rodney pulled Arald’s arm over his shoulders and helped him up. Arald grunted with pain and Rodney immediately moved slower, giving his friend time to ease into the movements. With great effort, the baron walked with Rodney over to his friend. Halt didn’t move as they approached, didn’t turn to look at them and barely acknowledged their presence. But he didn’t tell them to go away either so Arald took that as an invitation that he could stay.
Rodney turned back to the fire and poured a couple cups of coffee - despite the fact they were only briefly coming to Gorlan for an emergency, they had still found time to pack coffee mugs - and walked back over to Arald, handing them to him. Arald nodded his thanks and Rodney walked away again, leaving the two friends be.
Arald handed Halt one of the mugs.
“Here,” he said. “Rodney thought you might like some.”
“Thanks,” Halt said quietly, taking the coffee and cupping the warm mug in his hands. It was only a one word response, and spoken in a way that some people might struggle to hear, but Arald had been good friends with Halt for years and was one of the few people that could pick up on the hint of sadness in his voice.
“Are you feeling alright?” Arald phrased the question in a way so that it could be easily referring to Halt’s injured leg, but in reality, he was using it as a subtle way of telling Halt that he cared and that he was there for him, beyond his current injuries.
Halt didn’t have a worded response this time, just a simple shrug of the shoulders. Arald took that as a no. Just as he meant the question to mean more than just physical, he was sure Halt meant his reply in the same way. He wasn’t alright with being here, and Arald couldn’t blame him. Just being at the ruined remains of Castle Gorlan was bringing back memories, many of them bad. And he knew it was ten times worse for Halt. Halt had lost someone very special to him not too far away from where they sat right now, and he never got a chance to avenge his death, and probably never would.
Morgarath himself wasn’t responsible for Pritchard’s death, both Arald and Halt knew that, but Halt blamed him more than anyone else for it. Mainly because he would never know who it was that had wielded the sword that sliced straight through Pritchard’s body and killed him. They were unknown, and would forever remain unknown. The murderer themself probably didn’t even remember killing Pritchard. To them, he was just another body among many. So the next best person Halt had to direct all his rage and anguish towards was Morgarath - and he was high up in his precious Mountains of Rain and Night, cowering away from facing justice for his horrific crimes, unreachable for the time being.
“Things’ll turn out alright,” Arald said softly. Halt still didn’t say anything, but hugged his okay leg closer to him, seeming to sink a little into himself. Arald didn’t know what to do. He could see Halt was in pain but didn’t know how to help, and he so desperately wanted to. But then he realised there was nothing to say. Pritchard was dead. Murdered. No amount of words would be able to ease the hurt Halt carried with him because of it, and nothing in the whole world would change that. But he could still be there for his friend. He could sit with him for a while, show him that he wasn’t alone, communicate with him that he was there to help if Halt ever needed it. For now, that was the best he could do, and perhaps it would be enough.
They sat together in silence, finishing up their mugs until Gilan came by to collect Blaze from Will, have a quick swig of coffee to restore his energy and rode off again. They decided then it would be time to make their own way home. Will and Sir Rodney ran over to him the two injured men stand, despite Halt’s insistence that he could do it himself.
On the ride back, Arald tried his best to make conversation with Halt and distract from his thoughts. At first, his attempts were futile, but as they rode further and further away from Gorlan, Halt became more talkative, and soon the two were discussing various topics, all the way back to Redmont.
Day three: Quiver.
Halt doesn't like goodbyes.
Welcome to the Ranger Gathering, coming June 2026!
How it works:
The Ranger Gathering will run for the entire the month of June, 2026. Each day has a prompt that participants can use to inspire works about Ranger's Apprentice, The Early Years, The Royal Ranger, or Brotherband.
Check out last year’s stuff here!
If you want to participate, tag your post with #ranger gathering 2026 so we can all find it!
A few notes on the Gathering:
You do NOT have to do all the prompts, or even most of the prompts to participate in the Gathering! The most important thing is to have fun and avoid burnout. Pick whichever prompts inspire your creativity, and ignore the rest.
The Gathering is meant to show off all forms of creativity! This means art, music, writing, memes, textpost, moodboards, playlists, or whatever else you can come up with. Don't feel like you can't participate if you're not an artist or author.
This blog is going to showcase a few posts from the tag every day of the Gathering, so make sure you support the creators with reblogs and comments.
Good luck, and see you all at the Gathering!
Text Prompts:
1. Trust
2. Ruins
3. Quiver
4. Parchment
5. Fierce
6. Ancient
7. Dagger
8. Resolve
9. Embers
10. Steed
11. Midnight
12. Rally
13. Vow
14. Spare
15. Mountain
16. Feral
17. Blizzard
18. Pride
19. Longbow
20. Allegiance
21. Tournament
22. Moat
23. Prophecy
24. Falcon
25. Forged
26. Flee
27. Heritage
28. Enchanted
29. Unbroken
30. Return
Day Five: Fierce
“I hate you for making me come to this.”
Crowds of people mingled and talked loudly, gathering into small and large groups of conversation, blocking everyone's path and occasionally accidentally bumping into one another, causing brief scuffles. There was a band playing music in one corner of the room but the instruments' sounds were all but completely drowned out by the guests' endless chattering. It was hot, it was crowded, it was loud, it was far too social, and Halt hated all of it.
“Oh stop being so dramatic,” Crowley told him. “We’re here for Duncan’s birthday, and he’s our friend.”
“I've never been to one of his birthdays before.”
“That's because you were never around in the area before. That's why I may or may not have sent you and Will on an assignment near here at this time.”
Halt glared at him. “I’ll say it again: I hate you.”
“No you don't. I’m too great for anyone to hate me.”
“That’s debateable.”
“Debate with the wall. It’s probably the only thing that’ll listen. Now shut up, and let’s go say hi to Duncan.” Before Halt could protest—not that Crowley would listen—the other ranger grabbed him by the hand and dragged him through the crowd, weaving around all the people who decided it would be a great idea to stand in a large group right in the middle of where people were walking.
Crowley spotted Duncan on the other side of the room in the far corner and when he came closer yelled out to his friend. Halt almost cringed as his friend shouted above the crowd, although no one seemed to care or notice. It was just another yell among the obnoxiously loud laughter, arguments breaking out and the excited exclamations from friends. It was all so annoying.
Duncan turned around and waved a hand to Crowley then beckoned them to come join him and the group of people he was talking to.
“Hi Duncie,” Crowley said, and Duncan rolled his eyes amusedly at the nickname. “Are you having a good night so far?”
“I am, thank you Crowley. And Halt,” he grinned down at his other friend, “Long time no see. Thanks for coming. I know these sorts of parties aren’t really your thing.”
Halt was about to mention that he hadn’t wanted to come, and that Crowley had forced him, but Crowley squeezed his hand warningly. He didn’t need to say anything for Halt to know he wanted him to shut up before he even spoke. Instead, Halt just nodded in acknowledgement.
“This is Sir Isaac,” Duncan said, gesturing to the man standing next to him. “He’s the battlemaster at Whitby. And this is Sir Finn, his second in command.” Crowley shook hands with both men in greeting, while Halt just stood back, arms folded across his chest, unintentionally glaring at them. God, he really didn’t want to be here, stuck talking to these men who he could already tell were stuck up pricks.
“Isaac, Finn,” Duncan continued, “This is Ranger Crowley, the Ranger commandant, and Ranger Halt. I’m sure you know who they are.”
“Ah, Ranger Halt,” Sir Finn said, “You recently married, did you not? To Lady Pauline of Redmont I believe.” Halt nodded, avoiding speaking as long as possible. “Congratulations, you picked a good one. She’s really something, isn’t she? A real beauty. You’re a lucky man.” He went to clap Halt on the back, but the ranger quickly side stepped him. His unintentional glare slipped into a real one, not just at the attempted contact, but at the objectifying language Finn was using.
“Pauline, yes I remember her,” Isaac started, “I met her years ago when I visited Redmont Tried to court her if I’m being honest. I mean, imagine what I could tell people if I had managed to get a dance with her.” He laughed scornfully, seemingly forgetting Pauline’s husband was standing right there. “She rejected all my attempts, and ever so kindly told me what I could do to myself. I realised right then I was better off without her, if she was so entitled she thought she could do better than me. I honestly had begun to think she was just cold hearted and enjoyed crushing men’s feelings. Didn’t think she would ever get married, but I guess you never know how the future will turn out.”
Crowley and Duncan glanced nervously at Halt, who had gone unnervingly still. He had been quiet throughout the whole interaction, but now the quiet was laced with an underlying threat of danger for Isaac if he didn’t shut up right then and there.
“She’s not that bad,” Finn said, trying to get his commander to stop talking. Like Crowley and Duncan, he had noticed Halt’s tense posture. He didn’t know anything about Halt as a person, but he knew that rangers were dangerous people, and he could practically feel the rage that had already begun to radiate off of him.
“Agree to disagree,” Isaac said carelessly. “I think she’s quite rude. I mean, it doesn’t take that much effort to just take a fellow up on his offer for a dance does it?”
Halt had now unfolded his arms and instead was clenching his fists tightly at his sides, his breathing growing heavier as he tried to control himself. He knew he should probably walk away, but he also couldn’t bear the idea of letting this moron insult his wife further behind his back. It was a miracle Sir Isaac hadn’t burned into a pile of ashes from the force of Halt’s glare, but perhaps it was because he hadn’t even seemed to notice. Crowley placed a hand on Halt’s arm and moved closer, preparing himself to hold his friend back if the need be.
At that moment, Will approached them, having finished the conversation he had been having with a few, surprisingly not that arrogant, young knights. He was about to offer a friendly greeting to the group, before he picked up on the tension, the greeting dying on his lips before they even left them. He took one look at Halt, immediately picked up on his mentor’s rapidly increasing anger, then took one look at Crowley’s ready position and knew things were not going alright. He made eye contact with the King, a question in his expression. Duncan held up a hand, telling him to hang on. He thought it was about time to step in before things got too out of hand.
“Isaac,” he said in a casual but firm voice, “I think that’s enough talk about Pauline. Perhaps she just wasn’t in the mood for a dance. But none of that matters now, it was all in the past.” He hoped Isaac would take the hint to drop the subject and move on, but Isaac seemed to be insistent on insulting Halt’s wife.
“If she didn’t want to dance then why would she even be there? That would just be a huge waste of time for me.” He looked around the group, searching for someone to agree with him, and his eyes landed on Halt, seeming to remember he was listening the whole time and heard every vile word he said about Pauline. Still, Isaac ignored the dangerous look in Halt’s eyes and addressed him directly.
“I must say I don’t envy you,” he said, and Crowley internally cringed. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I’m fortunate to not be stuck with some full-of-herself woman who can’t respect a man enough for a dance.”
Despite Crowley’s hand on Halt’s arm, he wasn’t fast enough to stop his friend. His face a mask of pure protective fury, Halt grabbed Isaac by the collar of his overpriced shirt and slammed him against the wall. In the same movement, he drew his fist back and with rapid speed slammed it straight into Isaac’s face with as much force as he could muster in the moment. Blood immediately began to pour from Isaac’s probably now broken nose. It poured into his mouth and down his shirt, and coated Halt’s split knuckles with it, but he didn’t care. He was about to punch him again when Crowley finally caught up to him, and grabbed him firmly on his arm, stopping the fist in its tracks.
With a strong grip on his friend, Crowley forced Halt back and quickly wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Halt struggled in his hold, trying to get another satisfying hit on Isaac’s stupid face. But Crowley held strong, and dragged him further away from the bleeding man. Will stepped in between Isaac and Halt with his hands held out to his mentor in a placating gesture even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Crowley didn’t feel bad for Isaac in the slightest—in fact, he believed the man deserved to get punched—but there was a crowd of people now watching, and it wouldn’t do good for them to witness Halt beating the shit out of a battlemaster. That, and also Crowley couldn’t guarantee that Halt wouldn’t just kill him.
Halt kicked Crowley hard in the shin in an attempt to break free, but it didn’t work. Crowley had dealt with worse from a simple kick and he continued to hold strong.
“I think we’ll be going now,” Crowley said to Duncan. “Enjoy the rest of your party.” And with that, he dragged Halt through the crowd of people, talking soothingly yet commanding to him as they went. Will quickly followed.
“Happy birthday, your majesty!” He called out to Duncan before disappearing between the sea of people.
People continued to look as they went, but a quick death glare from Halt made them look away. Crowley almost rolled his eyes. The second they stepped out of the busy hall, Crowley’s hold loosened and Halt forcefully pushed him away. He didn’t say anything to him, or even look his way. He just made his way straight to the castle stairs with the intention of going straight to the room he was staying in and being alone.
Crowley jogged after him, and despite Halt’s obvious annoyance, walked side by side with him.
“Do you want to talk?” Crowley asked gently.
“What do you think?” Halt replied between gritted teeth. The rage was still obvious in his voice.
“Alright then.” He had known Halt long enough to know to not push any further. What his friend needed now was time and space to himself to calm down, and Crowley was more than happy to give that to him. Subtly, he started to slow his pace and let Halt go ahead of him until he was walking by himself.
When he reached his room, Halt immediately collapsed on his bed, curling in on himself. He took a shuddering breath, trying to calm his temper down enough to think rationally again. He just wanted to see Pauline and be with her again. First thing in the morning, he decided, he would grab Will and go home so he could hug her.
The Dead Don't Carry Lanterns
Ranger Gathering Day 2: Ruins
---
The trouble with packing, Will reflected, was that it always seemed a great deal simpler before one actually began doing it.
He had his satchel open on the bed, although “open” was perhaps too generous a description. It had been open half an hour ago. Now it bulged at the sides, the seams threatened to burst, and looked as though it might give up entirely if he tried to force one more shirt into it. Will, however, was not a man to be intimidated by a piece of leather, and he was currently attempting to wedge a spare cloak into a corner where, to any reasonable observer, there was no room for a spare cloak.
Day two: Ruins!
I always imagined that even as a ruin castle of Gorlean had that one cool tower that kinda survived the collapse only so it would keep the aura. Not any particular reason, just cause it's cool. Maybe it would be the tower king Oswald was held captive? Maybe as some sort of symbol that even if Morgarath's gone the influence he had is not...
Not fully proud of this one, but it's actually the first ever landscape that looks... Acceptable? It was meant to be ruins of Gorlean btw. I know... I know, you probably couldn't tell from those blobs that meant to resemble watercolours but hey, no one said it must be perfect... Right?
Still I hope you'll like it guys :>
Day 2: Ruins
The plump hare fell with a thud as the arrow struck home.
“Finally, Halt! Something good to eat other than those cold, hard rations. I’m starving,” Horace beamed, patting Halt on the back.
Halt grunted. Will grinned at Horace. “Since when are you not starving?”
Horace grinned back. “Never,” he replied sheepishly.
“Last time you even managed to eat when—”
“—OY! It is strictly prohibited to hunt large game like that hare you’ve got here! You better tell me who you are and where you come from, right now,” an old gamekeeper interrupted, making his way towards them while loading his crossbow.
Halt rolled his eyes to heaven. “O’Carrick,” he said simply.
“An O’Carrick, huh? I’m not fooled that easily. State your name and title,” the man said firmly.
Halt sighed. “I’m deeply hurt that you don’t remember me, Dennis,” he said dryly.
The gamekeeper's hand tightened around his crossbow. “Who are you, and how do you know my name?” Halt flicked his cowl back and held his hand out. “Crown Prince Halt O’Carrick, heir to the throne of Clonmel.”
Dennis stumbled back. “Wh-what?” he sputtered.
Will hid a smile as Halt raised an eyebrow and went to retrieve the hare.
“P-Prince Halt? B-but… you… you’re alive…?” Dennis stammered, recognising the dark eyes.
“I’m glad to see your observation skills are still as keen as ever,” Halt replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“How?” Dennis asked, dumbfounded.
“First of all, I was never dead to begin with. Second of all, I ran away. Third of all, don’t you have something better to do than stand there and gape at me?” Halt asked impatiently.
“I- uh, yes sir!” Dennis cried, giving him a brief salute and taking off at a sprint, eager to tell his wife the shocking news.
Horace and Will burst out laughing.
“I’m gonna go gut this hare for us to eat tomorrow,” Halt announced, “You two go back to camp and make us dinner.” “No fire?” Will asked.
“I don’t see why not. I could do with a good cup of coffee.” And with that, Halt walked off towards the gurgling stream.
Halt stared at his distorted reflection in the river, the hare forgotten by his side. He never liked reflections. They always made him feel uneasy as his brother’s face stared back up at him. It brought back too many memories. It was all his fault. He had acted like a coward and left. Left his family behind. Left Caitlyn behind. His poor baby sister. He should’ve given Ferris the throne before it got out of hand. He should’ve talked to their father about it. He should’ve done more for them. And now Caitlyn was dead. She was dead because of him. It was all his fault. He should’ve been there and stayed to protect Caitlyn. He should’ve been able to stop Ferris and be a responsible older brother. Instead, he had fled. Fled like a coward. He didn’t even say goodbye. And then Pritchard. The closest thing to a father he ever had. If only he had arrived earlier, he would’ve never—
“Halt?” a voice broke him out of his thoughts.
Startled, Halt plunged right into the freezing lapping river. He flapped his arms out violently, trying to get to the surface of the water. His lungs screamed for air as the river dragged him down. His arms and legs ached with the effort as he thrashed against the wild river. Halt could feel his heart beating rapidly against his ribs as he tried to get air into his lungs. He opened his mouth, desperate for air, but the stinging cold water flowed right into his mouth, making him choke. The world started to blur at the edges.
Suddenly, a strong hand gripped onto the collar of his shirt and he was hauled up, out of the tumbling waters. Halt fell to his knees, coughing up water and gasping desperately for air.
“Halt! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you!” Will slapped Halt’s back repeatedly, trying to get the water out for him.
“‘m fine…” Halt gasped, panting heavily as the adrenaline faded. Exhausted, he leaned his head back, and Will wrapped his arms around him, knowing Halt was probably still in a state of panic. “It’s okay Halt… it’s okay. You’re out now,” Will murmured. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Will stood up. “Come on, you’re freezing. We need to get back and get you changed,” Will said, grabbing the hare and helping Halt up.
Halt stood shakily on his legs and staggered after Will.
“What happened?” Horace asked, noticing the state of Halt’s wet clothes and hair.
“I went to get some water and accidentally startled Halt. He tumbled right into the river. The current was pretty strong and I had to haul him out of there,” Will explained.
Halt shivered and walked over to get changed into warmer clothes behind a tree. He wrung out his wet dripping clothes and hung them on a horizontal branch. With nothing to do, he sat down at the base of a tree and hugged his knees close to his chest, trying to get as much warmth as possible.
Horace left with the hare, going to gut it so they can eat it tomorrow.
Will noticed that Halt had dozed off, and put a blanket over him. Eventually, they settled in for the night and decided that Halt could have the last watch, since he clearly needed his rest.
˗ˏˋ ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗
The orange flames crackled, sending golden sparks flying into the cool morning air. Horace poked the sizzling hare with a long stick, and turned it around, allowing the other side to cook nicely. The rich smell brought Halt back to the present, still tired from finishing his last watch. He rubbed a hand over his face, staring into the hot embers of the fire. Ever since they arrived in the borders of Dun Kilty, Halt had been a bundle of nerves. Although he didn’t show it outwardly, Will and Horace had known him for long enough to bypass the stoic exterior and guess what he was really feeling. At first they had thought nothing of it. But then, Halt had been easier to startle and sneak up on, and when Halt flinched when Will passed him a cup of coffee a few days ago, they knew something had been wrong. Halt seemed to always be lost in thought, staring off into nothing. They had also noticed that he seemed more tired than usual, and he was always already awake when they went to wake him up for his watch.
Will swore under his breath. “Coffee’s out,” he announced with a frustrated sigh. Hearing this, Horace groaned. Will frowned and quickly put a finger to his lips.
“What? Do you hear something?” Horace asked, earning himself a glare from Will. “Oh, sorry,” he mouthed.
Will gestured for Horace to come closer.
“That should’ve at least gotten a reaction from him,” Will whispered, gesturing to Halt. Horace shrugged. “He’s probably just nervous. I mean, I’d be nervous if I were going back to my childhood home and confronting my twin brother for trying to kill me. But you’re right, it is a bit unlike him.”
After breakfast, they decided to get going towards Dun Kilty. But before long, Halt came to an abrupt halt, staring at a tall tree with a crude oakleaf carved on it.
“Halt? You okay?” Will asked, stopping next to him.
Halt suddenly steered his horse towards the trees, and galloped away.
“Hey! Halt, come back!” Horace yelled, taking off after Will and Halt.
Soon, they came to a stop. Kicker was panting heavily from the gallop, while Tug and Abelard seemed completely unfazed by the run. In front of them was what looked like the ruins of a burnt down cabin. Halt slowly dismounted and walked over to the mess.
“Halt?” Will called out uncertainly.
Halt dropped to his knees beside the ruins. “I —” he cut off uncertainly, not sure what to say.
“Pritchard… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault, I —”
Will dropped to his knees next to him. “Halt, it’s not your fault…”
“Who’s Pritchard?” Horace blurted out. Will looked at him in exasperation. Now's not the time. Seeing the look, Horace sealed his lips firmly shut.
Wordlessly, Halt walked over to where Abelard was standing, not looking back.
“W-we should head back…”
Halt mounted and rode back on the path, followed closely by Horace and Will.
“He was me and Crowley's mentor,” Halt said after a short while. Horace and Will shared a look.
A brief pause.
“Then Morgarath murdered him in cold blood.”
Daily incorrect quote, 80 Gathering day 4: parchment
Will: Halt, who's leaving you coded parchments?
Halt: what do you mean
Will: this! It's written in an entirely different alphabet! I think?
Halt:
Halt: that's just Crowley's diabolical handwriting
Will: oohh
Will: how do you read it???
Just found out this morning
John Flanagan unfortunately passed away.
My condolences to his family. You were a great author sir
oh no
no
no
I felt like my heart just dropped from 10 stories hight
I loved his books so much it was my childhood and early adolescence
I can't even said how much I loved it and it impacted me.
do you have an image of the table for couriers code??? (& maybe the exceptions for the letters it doesn't cover because I forgot what it said) I struggle a lot with translating text into images but I've always reaally really wanted to learn it and would be THRILLED if you were willing to post it! :D
Of course, I'd love to share it with you!
To do the Courier's Code from Ranger's Apprentice, you need to use a grid of letters, with the letters arranged in four rows of six letters each. The letters S and V would be used to replace Z and W if they are needed. To communicate a letter, you use a light signal (like a lantern) to indicate the row and then the position within that row. Here's how it works:
Grid: Imagine a grid with four rows and six columns. The first row is on the top left, the second on the top right, the third on the bottom left, and the fourth on the bottom right.
Rows: The position of the light (lantern) indicates the row. Top left is the first row, top right is the second, bottom left is the third, and bottom right is the fourth.
Columns: The number of flashes indicates the position within the row.
Example: To send the letter "O", you would first indicate the third row (bottom left) with the lantern and then flash twice to represent the second letter in that row, according to the Flanagan Wiki.
Example: 2-3 2-6 3-3 4-4 1-5 3-6 1-1 3–2 2-1 1-5 3-6 4-1 1-1 3-4 3-4 3-6 1-5 3-2 4-3 2-3 1-3 1-5 Hope this helps!!
Ok but I think I think we all forgot how Will literally SLAPPED AN ARROW OUT OF IT'S PATH AT THE LAST MOMENT ON PURE INSTINCT and Halt literally forgot that he was in an active battle for a moment just to gawk at the fact that his son just performed a miracle??????
Halt both hugged Will first and called Will son first, and Will hasn't even called Halt dad. Will for gods sake step us your game
okay i have thought for A While now (and not without talking to one of my tlos friends, shout out sam <3) that chris colfer did not have lloyd in mind at all when he wrote the first 2 books of tlos. like he hadn't even come up with him. and i think there's a lot of evidence for this that is not ENTIRELY explained by the argument of "well john and fg just wanted to keep his existence a secret from the twins". but i realized last night that maybe one of the strongest pieces of evidence is EZMIA.
because here's the thing. bear with me for a second. ezmia absolutely knew about john's existence, right? like. alright i don't have the second book on me rn but she clearly knew about charlotte, and she wouldn't know about charlotte without knowing of john (iirc she thinks charlotte is alex, but this still shows that she knows of john because how else would she know that the fairy godmother has a granddaughter, right?). and given the fact that she was fg's protegee, she would have been around both john AND LLOYD during her training. those are the sons of her mentor who live in the same kingdom (and probably the exact same castle) as she does. lloyd is literally referred to as "the other heir" by fg, which i guess indicates that ezmia was needed to replace lloyd? because he would've been the heir after john but then his magic got drained? point is he would've been around at the same time ezmia was being trained, and especially if she was needed to REPLACE him, she would have known about him. i've seen others point out that they probably would've been about the same age. now. keeping all this in mind...
do you really think. that if ezmia knew about this terrible uncle the twins have (AND SHE THINKS CHARLOTTE IS ONE OF THE TWINS FOR A WHILE), she really wouldn't have dangled it in their faces every chance she got? especially if she realized when talking to the real alex and conner that they don't even know who this guy is. don't you think she would've taunted them with it, given the way she is. don't you think she would've tried to rub it in charlotte's face during one of their scenes together. but she does nothing of the sort. you know why? because chris colfer hadn't thought of lloyd yet. LMAO.
it's not a big deal. i still love tlos and all the books with lloyd especially but like. think of the missed opportunities with lloyd. think about how much it could've been hinted at in the first 2 books if chris had thought of it. it would've been so fun. if anyone has lines in the first 2 books that they think ARE hints at him then please let me know because i think what's in there is just evidence to the contrary LMAO
