If there was anything Silvia hated more, it was endless forest. It was so easy to get lost. Nothing but the same, grey-green trees for miles. She honestly hadn't idea of where she even was at this point. She had arrived here not but an hour ago, and since then she had been wandering the forest in search of...anything.
Her biggest clue was a peak that she could barely spot above the tree tops-two castle spires that rose up in the distance. She knew well enough that if there was a castle, even if it was abandoned, that there would be some way to find civilization.
Her walk was silent, save for the crunching of grass and leaves beneath her boots and the quiet chirping of birds. Night was coming soon. The sun was already dipping down below the far-off mountains that encircled the vast continent, and Silvia was beginning to feel the icy sting of cold. She wasn't exactly dressed warmly-a simple blue tunic underneath a brown vest, with a leather skirt, high leather boots and thick leather pants underneath the skirt.
If she was to survive the cold, she would have to reach that castle as quickly as she could.
At least, she thought, her tunic had a small hood stitched onto it, which she pulled over her dark hair to provide some warmth and hide most of her features.
From there on, it was nothing but the silent tread towards that castle.
Night had fallen, and Silvia began to see flames as the trees dispersed. She had finally managed to weave her way through the forest, and arrive just outside the castle...or rather, twin castles, as it seemed. Two castles, conjoined by a long bridge over a wide river, sat stoically for the single purpose of guarding each side against invaders.
The flames she had seen had come from the largest encampment she had ever laid eyes on. Knights, squires, and servants had made some form of encampment outside the left castle. There seemed to be merry event, as amongst the many rows of tents and stables came the soft song of gay music, and the joyous shouts gave Silvia the feeling that there was some form of joyous occasion going on.
She hopped down the hill and down into the lower encampment. From her place on the outskirts, she could see all manner of men milling about. Many groups had come together, it seemed: the majority of the group were the light-skinned but dark haired men, who wore dark grey armor that was trimmed with fur, and then the lighter, fair-skinned men whose armor consisted of loose green and brown robes with a triangular breastplate.
They all met in merry company, and few gave Silvia much of a glance as she began to walk through the camp. She carefully ensured that no one would notice her...she wasn't the type to attract attention, and for the moment she merely wished to observe.
"I wonder what's going on.." She whispered, glancing about at the sheer amount of men that were dancing, drinking, and having a wonderful time. She passed by an older gentleman who was escorting two young women, the trio likely haven had a bit too much ale, and Silvia made a face as the trio dipped into a tent to engage in things best left unmentioned.
Ignoring that, Silvia stepped towards a lone man who was pouring himself a cup of ale that held a powerful, bitter scent that made Silvia's nose wrinkle.
"Excuse me," Silvia asked the man after patting his shoulder, "May I ask, what is the event that is causing such a merry time?"
The man turned to face her and seemed surprised to see a girl all alone here. He was an older gentleman, with thin lips and a gruff face. By his trimmed armor, Silvia could tell he was a part of that first half of knights, "Eh, well miss, it's the wedding that's happening. Lord Stark is getting married to one of Walder Frey's girls. So our host has met the Frey's to celebrate."
"I see," Silvia murmured with a short nod.
"What house do you hail from, girl?" The man then asked, "You look like a Stark with that dark hair, but I doubt you are that nor a Frey from your ignorance."
"Just...a wandering sellsword." She said with a shrug.
The man scoffed, dipping his cup up to his lips and downing his ale, "Not many woman sellswords I'll tell you that! You must be a brave lass...especially for someone so young! Here, come with me. I'm sure the other Starks an' Forresters will get a kick out of you!"
"Nah, I think I'll just wander about a bit more. How can I tell which ones are the Starks and who're the Forresters?"
The man shrugged and turned back to the keg of ale, "As you wish. If you ever feel so inclined, you can tell us Starks from our crest-the direwolf! The Forresters 'ave a tree for their crest. And the Frey's use their castle as their crest as well."
"I'll keep that in mind..." Silvia mumbled as she tugged down her hood a bit more and slipped back into the crowd of knights and drunken revelers. She had nowhere to go, and simply allowed the crowd to take her along. She would occasionally stop and admire the scenery, staring up at the high twin castles.
"Oi! Git a load of this!" A man hollered from behind her, and she jumped when she felt a palm on her shoulder and a hand on her breast, "What's a little girl like you doin' in a place like this?"
She looked up to see a sandy-blonde man whore wore the armor and robes she had seen before-and by glancing at the emblem on his breastplate, she could tell she was the "Frey" that man had mentioned earlier.
"How bout you let go of me before I tear you a new hole?" Silvia hissed at him, hitting his unprotected side with her elbow and forcing herself away from the Frey's grasp.
She whipped around to see three other young men walk up to join the one she had just hit. None of them seemed pleased at all by Silvia's behavior.
"Looks like a Stark," One of the Freys said aloud, "What's a Stark girl doin' around here?"
"I'm not a Stark!" Silvia snapped, "I'm a sword for hire!"
That exclamation made the group of four momentarily glance at each other before breaking out into loud laughter, "That's rich! There ain't no woman sellsword that I've ever heard of!"
"Go back to the Stark's little miss, unless you're looking for a Frey to pop your cherry, cause we all know the Stark's couldn't stick their tiny dick in your hole even if they tried!"
This, of course, made the men laugh even harder. Silvia gritted her teeth and stuck her hand into a pocket hidden beneath her leather vest. She pulled out an iron dagger and pointed the small blade at the men.
"Yeah, you'll certainly have some trouble when I cut your balls off!"
The group stopped their laughter and stared Silvia down. They all smirked and sneered in unison as they pulled out their own swords and maces.
"Why don't you just go back now, before we have some real trouble, eh?"
Silvia stepped back. Her heart began to pound as she sized the men up. She could take them all down without issue. But there was still a problem: taking these guys down would surely create a scene. And for someone who wished to remain invisible, that was not something that could be done. Silvia gripped her dagger and dashed off, bearing the shameful shameful retreat as the Freys burst out into laughter once more.
"Damn them..." She muttered to herself as she pulled her hood down as far as it could go. She glanced about, and began to realize that she was going father into the Frey's section of the camp. She saw them all, a group of thin, sinister men that all seemed to be preparing for war. They were all readying their armor and their weapons; each and every one of them holding a tiny, knowing smirk.
She halted. Why was that? This was a wedding, not a start of a war? Why were all of the Frey men sharpening their blades, readying their crossbows, and looking as if they were about to take the camp by storm?
The pin dropped, and Silvia dashed off towards the other end of camp. The Freys...they were going to attack the rest of the camp! Silvia didn't no where to go, but she knew she would have to find the other groups and warn them of the impending attack. She barely made it half-way to the other side before she heard something explode.
What followed was a loud roar, and the sound of a warhorn. The Freys stormed out from their places in the camp, and took the rest of the encampment by storm. Silvia twirled around and witnessed the horrid massacre as the Freys took everyone else by surprise.
One of them tore through a tent, searching for someone to kill, when he glanced up and saw Silvia, standing there in shock.
"Don't look so scared...here, why don't you come with me, and I'll keep you safe?"
The man walked up to Silvia with a perverse, contorted expression, but that turned to complete shock when Silvia plunged her dagger up and beneath his breastplate-successfully tearing through the underrobes and cutting through flesh.
"You...bitch...!" The man moaned, as Silvia tore the dagger out and sent it up even higher. The man stiffend as his eyes rolled back. Silvia tore the blade out as his flesh made a horrid, wet sound. Her hands were covered in his blood, and he fell to the grass in a heap.
"Damn.." She murmured, dropping her dagger and grabbing the fallen man's sword. He wouldn't be needing this; that was for sure.
Silvia whipped her head around as she watched the fighting escalate. Although the others were beginning to fight, the Frey's element of surprise had given them an edge over everyone else and enabled them to cut the others down with ease.
"Shit...I need to get out of here," She said to herself; dashing off with a sword in hand. She passed by the many who had already fallen. It was disheartening to see the disproportinate amount of Stark and Forresters to the few Freys that had fallen.
Silvia could see that she was already making her way into the other camps, as she saw the unfamiliar emblems of other Holds. Perhaps she could be of some aid in this fight...her combat skills were second to none...and if she had to, she would use her other tricks
She didn't make it any farther before she was grabbed by her neck and thrown to the ground. Her blade clattered to the ground as three men huddled around her. She could tell by their faces that it was three of the four men from before.
"Look who we found, prancing around with a sword!" One of them said, nudging his buddy who held a dumb expression.
"How'll we handle this, fellas?"
"I say we rape her, then kill her!" Another called out.
"Hah! I saw we have our way, hand her off to the other guys, then let the dogs finish her up!"
"How about none of the above?" Silvia asked them, "You guys are ridiculous-and weren't there four of you?"
"We lost one to you damn Starks," The first of the three spat, "I think we'll get our revenge by just killing you and shutting up that mouth of yours!"
Silvia grinned and gave each one of them a long look.
"Nah."
Silvia instantly and nimbly hopped up onto her feet, before lunging at the first of the three Freys and slamming a fist into his chin. The man's head made a sickening noise as it was forced back. He fell to the grassy ground, bleeding from the lips, as his eyes filled with a deep rage.
"Bitch!" He snarled, before looking at his two companions, "Stop standing there and kill this shit!"
Silvia glanced at them and scampered off. She barely had time to grab her sword before the two other Freys came at her, a sword and a mace in hand. The one with the mace raised his weapon up into the air, but didn't have the time to bring it down as Silvia launched up and sent the tip of her sword through the man's neck. Silvia sliced through the rest of the flesh and sent a fine spray of red into the air.
"The...the fuck...!" The other Frey exclaimed, "What the fuck!"
"Graaaah!" Silvia roared, running the Frey down and slicing through his neck. Her blade tore through the neck and ripped apart the tendons and muscles while sending blood everywhere. The Frey gurgled, blood spurting from his mouth as he dropped his own sword and scrabbled at his neck. He made a sick, wet noise as he fell on the ground and writhed about.
Silvia turned back to the third and final Frey. The man's mouth was a perfect "O" of surprise. He could not believe that his fellow soldiers had been taken down so effortlessly.
"Any last words?"
"Fuck you!" The man shouted, standing up and brandishing his sword. He charged for her, and didn't falter as she brought her blade up to her shoulder in a two-handed stance. The man roared and brought his sword into a swing, but Silvia swung as well and knocked his blade back. Then, she swung right around and caught the man along the chest. The Frey seemed almost too surprised by this, even as she brought her sword back before plunging it straight through his chest.
"Bastards," She spat, looking down at her blade and hands. Her hands and sword were equally covered in blood, though she knew a lot more of it was still being spilled as the fighting continued.
She ran off towards where the fighting seemed especially dense, and quickly found a group of men surrounded by Freys. In the center stood a broad, large man with thick facial hair and a broadsword, "Hold men!" this man bellowed, "We shall take these traitors down with honor!"
"Yes Ser Manderly!" The soldiers with him said, as they all braced their swords in readiment for the Frey's attack. Silvia gasped as one of them produced a crossbow, and subsequently fired a shot straight through Ser Manderly's mouth. Ser Manderly twitched and blood came oozing out as he immediately crumpled to the ground.
Silvia gripped her blade as tightly as she could as she leapt into the air and brought her sword down upon the back of the crossbow-using Frey. He cried out as his back was torn open, and the Freys turned around to see the blood-cvered Silvia.
"Who's next!?" She yelled, raising her sword, "I'll kill you all if I have to!"
"Kill her!" The Frey's screamed, as seven man started to surround her. The few remaining soldiers, mourning their Knight's death, saw the moment as perfect revenge. As Silvia parried and knocked back the Freys with ease, the other soldiers tore through the Freys as well.
"Gyaaah!" Silvia shouted, her blade plunging through the final Frey's head. A sickening crunching noise was heard as his face caved in and his bones shattered. Silvia tore the blade back out and panted deeply. She had never succumbed to such rage before...
"We are in your debt, my lady. We are the Manderly's, who came here along with Lord Stark's host." One of the Manderly soldiers said, as the group got onto their knees.
"I'm not a stark, if that's what you're wondering. I'm just a wandering sellsword who got myself into this man."
"We are neverthless indebted to you."
"Well, then you can repay me that debt by helping curve the tide of this whole mess..."
The Manderly men stood up and observed their surroundings. The entire camp was ablaze as tents and trees burned. Screams and shouts were heard as men and women alike were killed-likely by the Freys at this point. The castle, which at first struck Silvia with awe, rose eerily into the night sky as smoke curled around it.
"If you would be so kind, we must retreat...Ser Wendel would not have us standing around like this. This battle is lost. We would be happy to escort you to New Castle, our hold and the only harbor of the North."
Silvia sighed and stared back at the flaming camp. A lot of people had died this night. There likely wasn't anyone left to save.
"Alright. Let's go."
