3rd Month of 231 A.L.: Barrowlands

Lord Harrion Karstark

The war had been raging for three years now, and in that time winter had come and laid claim to the rest of the north. The grounds were covered in snow and bodies and blood, and the people moved from one job to the next in some sort of hopeless resignation as if knowing that their fate was already sealed. Truly it was a tragedy as far as Harrion was concerned but it was something that needed to be done in order to ensure that the north could remain independent in every sense of the word, and that Donnor Stark was the right man for the job. Harrion also hoped that once Donnor emerged successful he would be able to establish a few cadet branches in various places to replace those houses that had rebelled against the king. After all he did have seven sons and two daughters and he needed somewhere to put all of them.

After an initial surge of activity and then months of nothing, the war had picked up once again and King Donnor now had control over half of the north, and the king's brother Brandon controlled the southern north. And yet Donnor remained in firm control, for Brandon had been experiencing a decline in his numbers due to conflicts with the Vale and the Riverlands, as well as the winter being strongest in its maladies in the southern north. And hence, Harrion was further convinced that perhaps Donnor would emerge victorious, which was why he had felt honoured that the King had given him command over some 6,000 men with which to assault Brandon Stark's stronghold in the Barrowlands and potentially put an end to the pretender. Harrion was not as knowledgeable of the Barrowlands as some of his commanders were, and so he had called a council to discuss what needed to be done. Roose Tallhart, a man with much more experience spoke first. "Our riders report that Brandon Stark himself has ridden forth from Moat Cailin alongside Ser Rodrik Stout and some 5,000 men and has set up shop quite close to where his castle stands between Barrowtown and where we currently are. Some 20 miles west of here."

Lord Jonnel speaks then his voice cold as ice. "Aye, 20 miles and a death march indeed. Perfect, just the setting we need to remove Brandon Stark and his allies from the north and finish this war off once and for all."

Rickard, Harrion's eldest son and heir speaks up then. "That might not be the case my lord. After all we are now in Brandon Stark's territory, and as such he will know all the quickest ways to get around whatever men we send out to face him. If we are to end the man then we must send out our full force, which brings its own risks, considering the men from the Vale are lurking somewhere close by."

Lord Bolton speaks then. "And where are they lurking? In Oldcastle? I think not, no they have retreated across the bite with their tails between their legs, now that Brandon Stark holds Benjen Stark captive. Now is the time to strike."

Again Rickard spoke up voicing doubts Harrion himself had. "But do we truly know that that is the case? There has been no word from Edwyn Cassel as to the location of Vale forces or the men that Brandon sent out to fight them. Do we even know that Brandon Stark is amongst the men that is camped within the Barrowlands?"

"It matters not what we know, all that matters is that King Donnor has given us orders and it is our duty to follow them whether we like them or not." Bolton countered. "We have been told do deal with this threat in the Barrowlands and that is what we should do. Otherwise we shall all grow old and die here in the snow if we take your course of action."

Harrion nodded and said. "He is right son. We must act, and we must act now. Jonnel shall command the right, Roose you shall command the left, Rickard you shall command the centre and I shall command the van. We ride out in three hours." With that the meeting ended, and three hours later they were all armoured and ready for battle. Roose Tallhart rode out first with some 900 men from Torrhen's Square, he made up the left, and once he had disappeared and after about twenty minutes had passed, Harrion nodded and Jonnel Bolton rode out with the right and some 3,000 men from the Dreadfort. Soon, enough time had passed that it was time for the van and the centre to ride out and so they did.

When they arrived at the battle, they found that they had been led into a massacre, there was perhaps only 2,000 men fighting under the black direwolf of Brandon Stark here, and they were being cleaned up by the right and the left of his army. Harrion decided they would finish the job, and drawing his sword led the charge. They smashed into what was left of the army, and Harrion began hacking and slashing his way through the men, cutting them down like they were nothing but bags of meat. His sword soon became stained red with blood, and the snow laden ground became littered with bodies, his blood began to sing, on and on it went, swinging and hacking and soon enough he knew that victory would come.

That was until a horn sounded and the fighting stopped for a brief moment, and Harrion saw the moon and falcon banners of House Arryn and the black iron studs of House Royce approaching them, supported by the black direwolf of Brandon Stark. They had been led into a trap, and when the two armies met, it was pure carnage. Harrion swung his sword, left and right, left and right and though he cut down many men, more just seemed to appear out of nowhere and soon enough his body became littered with bruises, and his mind became slow. Harrion Karstark was slain by a knight of the Vale, during the battle of the Weeping Ridge, his body covered with dents and blood. He died at the age of forty and three, his army broke and fled, and the collapse of Donnor Stark's allies had begun.

5th Month of 231 A.L. Winterfell

Lady Lyanna Stark nee Wull

War was always an ugly, thing she could never understand why men were so fascinated by it. The songs painted one picture, and reality another, and Lyanna had always been taught to see the reality and not the songs. Her husband did not like war she knew, he was a solitary figure who would have been happy living with her and their daughters Serena and Randa in their castle in the mountains, but once his brother Artos had died she knew he had needed to do his duty. The southerners were growing to influential in Winterfell, and the Starks had begun to lose their strength and their strongholds. Donnor was needed to stop that, and he was doing that, he had defeated Errold that ignorant wolf pup, he had forced baby Edwyle to flee and he had allowed his brother to take on the mantle of the kinslayer by having Artos' sons Brandon and Benjen killed. She knew this all weighed heavily on him, but she knew he was the right man for the job, the right man to see the north free and independent of southern control.

Though Donnor was often described as cold and heartless, Lyanna had never thought of him as such, to her and their daughters he was a kind and loving husband and father. Serena was just like him, in her mannerisms and her way of speaking, she wanted to be just like Donnor and that thought both amused and worried Lyanna somewhat. Randa their youngest was more bold and outgoing and as such had managed to win over many people to their side in Winterfell. Of course her daughters were young yet, five and three respectively, and Lyanna still hoped for a son, so that her husband's line might be secured. They coupled regularly and yet her womb did not quicken with his seed and she grew worried. Donnor did not seem to mind and he insisted that Serena would follow him as Queen of the North, but Lyanna knew that some of the lords would demand either an heir to that he take a new wife, or they would seek to remove Donnor subtly and that made Brandon even more dangerous.

Of course when her husband enters their shared chambers after a long council session and sits down and simply stares at the wall for a long time she grows worried. "Donnor?" She asks tentatively. "My love?" she asks when he does not respond. She gets up from her chair and goes to him taking his hand in hers. "Donnor, my love whatever is the matter? Why do you look so forlorn and as if all the joy in the world has been taken from you?"

Donnor looks at her then and his eyes seem so broken that she can't help but take his face in her hands. Her husband is silent for a long moment and then he says. "There has been word from the south." He pauses then and looks at her again and says. "Lord Karstark and his men were butchered in the Barrowlands. It appears my brother managed to ally with the Valelords still remaining in the north and used Ser Rodrik Stout and some 2,000 men from his allies as bait to lure Lord Karstark into a trap. The Valelords and Brandon attacked them from behind. Karstark and his heir were slain, Bolton was killed as well and his heir captured. Roose Tallhart switched sides and completed the rout. Karstark and Bolton bannermen have fled and have retreated behind their castles, and Lord Hornwood now stands and asks me what I mean to do."

Her husband seems so despondent that there must be more. "What other news has there been my love?"

Donnor looks at her again and says. "My lords are crumbling under pressure. Tallhart has rejoined Brandon, and Glover has blockaded himself away in Deepwood Motte and refuses to come out and fight. Brandon has also begun a push back, Malcolm Cerwyn through open the gates of Castle Cerwyn for him and his men, and now they are but half a day's ride away. Harmond Umber has been sent to deal with men from Hornwood who are fighting for Brandon but I doubt he will emerge successful. The cause is dying around me, and I know not what to do."

"You hold on my love. That is what you must do. The mountain clans still follow you, as do the Boltons and the Karstarks. Lord Umber follows you and so do the people of Last Hearth. Glover will be made to see sense, and the Mormonts and the Skagosi also still follow you. Brandon and the Valelords will begin arguing and fighting amongst themselves soon enough. You can still win this my love, you just have to hold out for a little while longer."

Donnor seems to take strength from her words for when he responds his voice is harder. "Aye, that is true my love. I still hold the allegiance of the most powerful northern lords and as such can still dictate the course of this war. Brandon is expending his energy trying maintain the peace between his allies in the north and those from the south and from Essos. That is a coalition that will not last for very long. Sooner or later it will come tumbling down around him and I shall be there to end it once and for all."

Lyanna nods encouragingly and says. "That's right Your Grace, you shall sit the winter throne as you were meant to. Now enough talk, make love to me Your Grace and let's put a wolf pup in my belly." And so they lose themselves to passion and lovemaking for the next few hours, and once her husband is sated and asleep she lies in his arms and prays to the gods that she is right and the her husband will win this war, and that she will bear him a son. Otherwise she dreads to think what will become of her beloved home and family.