Prologue:
In the darkness outside of the Tully fortress of Riverrun, two figures meet. One, red of hair and bearing an appearance similar to that of his mother's namesake, is crowned with a circlet of copper and iron- the crown of the King in the North. The other is swathed in a heavy cloak and a set of thick, black robes. The stranger towers over Robb Stark, bearing a bastard sword at his left hip, and a slightly smaller war-axe at the other. The two are deep in conversation…
"You understand how crucial the success of your task is, yes, Ser?"
The enormous shadow nods, the rumbling bass of his voice answering, "Aye, Your Grace. I will not fail you."
Robb Stark nods slowly. "I certainly should think not. You and your…skills…come to me with the highest recommendation. But this shall, be no means, be a simple errand. I am asking you to infiltrate the seat of my enemies' power. You may easily die in the course of your quest." He pauses, eyeing the knight appraisingly. "I might be slain prior to the completion of your mission. There is a war on, after all." He looks directs his gaze to the west. There, an enormous tent city has sprouted, where the campfires of the Lannister host seem like a swarm of fireflies.
"Your Grace. I have accepted your charge, and I will see it through to the end. To whatever end it may be."
Robb sets his jaw. "So be it." He clears his throat. "Ser Corlen Austriman of White Harbor, I would ask that you travel to King's Landing, and free my sisters from the clutches of the false king...at whatever cost, Ser. Whatever cost.
"And…Ser Corlen…" His voice chokes off slightly.
Ser Corlen's gaze transfixes him from beneath his hood. "Aye, Your Grace?"
"Claim justice for my father. Take that bastard Joffrey Waters' head."
Ser Corlen smashes one clenched fist over his heart, and bows deeply from the waist. "It will be done."