"DÌOGHALTAS AIIRSON AN SEACHD RIONNAG!" -Clansmen battle cry during the Descent on the High Road
For the first time since their defeat at the Battle of the Seven Stars, the First Men fell upon the Knights of the Vale.
The only warning the Arryn host received was the cryptic warning given to Yorwyck Royce and the earsplitting cries of the carnyx, but the Arryn host had no time to recognize the signs of attack before they were fallen upon by the Mountain Clans of the Moon. The men closet to Queen Sharra held their calm long enough to pull her into a protective circle of horsemeat and shields, but the sides of the column quickly descended into chaos, men pushing and shouting and shoving, horses bucking and neighing.
Iron-tipped arrows whistled through the air from the grassy perches bordering the ravine the Valemen found themselves penned in, finding many a target in exposed horsemeat and amongst many an unprotected face. Mountain clansmen, screaming bloody vengeance and war cries over and over in their Old Tongue scrambled down the hills on both sides towards the disarrayed Andals.
And then the lines met.
The Mountain Clans had chosen the battleground well; by attacking the Arryn column in the ravine, they negated their greatest asset, the cavalry. With such little space to maneuver, let alone charge, the steeds were, for all intents and purposes, nothing but a hindrance to the men of the Vale. Those smart enough to realize the fact in the moment quickly dismounted and slew their horses, whilst those unlucky or foolish enough to refuse dismounting were oft pulled from their saddles and hacked to death.
While the clansmen smashed into the sides of the column, the Lords and Queen of the Vale, save several others further back in the host, met underneath a shell of shields. Surprisingly, there was little debate as to what to do; the end of the ravine opened up into a mildly-forested valley, which would give them both breathing space and allow them the use of their cavalry. One they could, it was only a matter of either swinging around and running the barbarians down, or racing to the Eyrie for reinforcements.
In the end, it was decided that two-hundred men on the fastest steeds would escort the Queen Mother back to the Eyrie as soon as possible, whilst the Knights of the Vale stood their ground. With that done, the lords departed to restore order to the column and give the order to push for the valley.
The order quickly passed through the host, and those with steeds remaining quickly mounted them, dumping any extra baggage in the hopes that the clansmen would halt their attack for the loot. Lord Royce quickly sent word up the column that he would hold the rear to buy time, and with that confirmation, the mounted host broke into a canter, then a sprint, racing their steeds in the only way possible; forward.
Some of the men without horses, however, either because they were simply men-at-arms or because they had slain them upon the approach of the Clans, quickly broke when they saw they were effectively being abandoned by their liege lords. Some raced after the fleeing host in a desperate attempt to not be left behind, whilst others moved in the other direction to join up with the Royce-led part of the host, and yet others still stood their ground, fighting valiantly amongst against the onslaught.
Among the valiant was a relatively unknown but renowned knight and second son of House Grafton by the name of Rolland.
It was under his leadership that three-hundred-and-forty-one of the men left behind managed to escape the deathtrap, wading into battle at the forefront of his men, hacking down clansmen and yelling encouragement to his men. To some of the younger Valemen, it seemed as if he had been possessed by the Warrior, for he certainly fought with enough fury, but it was the older soldiers who noted that he fought with the vigor of a man who left a loved one or a lover behind.
(A lover who happened to be Sharra Arryn, as it turned out.)
The other Valemen, however, were not so fortunate to have the leadership of Rolland to guide them. Bravely they fought, yet, eventually, they were overwhelmed, leaving the way clear for the clansmen to pursue.
Oddly enough, the clansmen did not, and for good reason.
The trap had already been sprung.
Despite being harassed by arrows and clansmen, the front part of the column that had fled the ravine managed to, at last, break out of the ravine and into the valley. By all rights, it should have been smooth sailing from there- swing around and scale the hills of the ravine, ride down the barbarians, and get the Queen of Mountain and Vale back to her fortress.
It was not to be.
For waiting for them, out on the open fields of the valley before a nearby forest, behind a wall of wooden stakes and beneath dozens of old and torn banners, the First Men stood.
But, that was not what gave the Knights of the Vale pause, no.
It was the banner flying at the forefront of the enemy host.
It was the banner of the Crowned Griffin. There was a King in the Mountains.
The Griffin King lived.
As it would stand, the two forces were evenly matched. The Knights of the Vale had left behind around four-thousand men, leaving them with eleven-thousand from their initial fifteen, and the armies of the Griffin King themselves also numbered eleven-thousand, not counting the clansmen still looting corpses in the ravine. All in all, the Valemen should have had the advantage. They were on flat, open ground, perfect for a cavalry charge. The heathen First Men had no steel weaponry (to their knowledge) as well as armor. They had no apparent cavalry force, and, most importantly, the Seven-Who-Were-One did not stand with them.
So, the order was given to charge.
And so the Andals did.
The remaining cavalry left to the Arryn host rushed towards the waiting army, before splitting into three sections. The middle would continue its charge into the center, while the flanks circled round in a pincer movement.
The frontal charge was, of course, decimated. Arrows downed both horse and man, and what the archers failed to fell, the stakes and the men behind them did the rest. However, the assault from the front distracted the First Men from the cavalry flanking them, leaving them mostly un-harassed.
At least, so it seemed.
Until, abruptly, more arrows emerged from the nearby forest, pelting the righter-most Vale forces with volleys of iron and once again sowing disarray amongst the ranks, forcing them to abandon the pincer attack.
And that is when the Griffin King made himself known
With a cry of "VENGEANCE FOR THE SEVEN STARS!", Donnahal Redsmith, the Griffin King of the Hill, emerged from the forest on horseback, longsword drawn, accompanied by his own mounted force of cavalry. Thundering towards the disorientated Andals, the clansmen smashed, and broke, the Vale cavalry on the right side, freeing their kinsmen from focusing on two fronts.
With half their remaining cavalry gone, the Knights of the Vale, swung away from the entrenched First Men and back to the Vale lines made up of the men-at-arms and knights without steeds who had made it out of the ravine.
The First Men pursued.
Leaving behind their wooden fortifications, the Mountain Clans charged the remaining Knights of the Vale, all the while chanting in their barbaric tongue. Soon enough, the warriors war headed by the Griffin King's own cavalry, and they sped full tilt towards the Andal lines.
…
The Lords of the Vale unsheathed their swords, and made their stand.
And then they fell.
The Vale lines buckled and broke almost immediately after making contact with the enemy, and the charge quickly descended into a melee. Both sides fought with varied degrees of emotions; the Valemen fought with a fear and desperation not seen since the Breaking of the Andals, and the Mountain Clans of the Moon fought with a burning fury stoked by thousands of years in exile.
In the end, it was no contest. The Clans had the morale, had the numbers and had the will to win, whilst the Vale did not.
Of the brave Valemen who made that stand, there would be few survivors.
And of the few that survived, none lived long enough to enjoy it.
The same, however, could not be said for the remainder of the Arryn host's horse.
Whilst the dismounted infantry fought it out in the valley, the cavalry of both sides had detached themselves from the melee. The mounted Valemen, along with the Queen Sharra Arryn retreated back towards the ravine with all haste, hoping to outrun any remaining enemies within and break out into the rest of the Vale Proper to rally support, all the while the Griffin King giving chase.
They might have, nay, would have made it, had their gods favored them.
Woe to them.
At first, when they saw the banners of Runestone emerging from the ravine at the head of the remnants of the mounted column, there were cries of relief and joy that they might live the day.
And then, those same banners, tied to lances, lowered, then charged.
The final defeat of the day came not from the Mountain Clans of the Moon, nor the Griffin King, though he would be the one to capture Queen Sharra.
No.
While it was the Griffin King of the Hill that broke the eldest Andal bloodline, it was the Bronze King of Runestone that shattered their hope.
Later, it would be discovered that the return of the Griffin and Bronze Kings of the Vale coincided with the presenting of Aegon the Would-Be Conqueror to the Great Weirwood Tree.