Blood and Winter
Chapter II
It was over quick and fast.
Despite the fact the Lannister host still besieging Riverrun numbered over twelve thousand men, the very positioning of Riverrun meant that a commander had to split their force into three. Because of this, four thousand men were positioned north of the Tumblestone. Another four thousand were positioned south of the Tumblestone and west of the Red Fork while the final four thousand were positioned east of the Red Fork.
Under the command of Ser Brynden Tully, one thousand men descended on the sleeping and leaderless camp in the dead of night. Despite it being a day since the Battle of the Whispering Wood, all Lannister scouts and outriders had been eliminated meaning that the enemy was completely unaware of the capture of Jamie Lannister and eradication of their cavalry force.
As a result, Ser Brynden Blackfish made short work of the unaware enemy camp.
They quickly cleared the enemy palisades and dealt with any sentries before going on to kill the men in the camp. This had not gone unnoticed by the other two camps, the one south of the Tumblestone led by Andros Brax quickly ordered a thousand of his men to cross the Tumblestone. Along the way he was harried by archers along the Riverrun walls, Tytos Blackwood ordering them to fire on the Lannisters exposed flanks. However, Andros Brax would not be deterred as he ordered his men onto rafts that were pelted by thrown rocks by the soldiers of Riverrun.
It was disastrous.
The choppy waters of the Tumblestone overturned the rafts. The men with their heavy armour either drowned or were killed by archer fire both from the walls of Riverrun or by the archer's Ser Brynden had lined on the bank. It was here that Lord Andros Brax met his end.
However, there were still around three thousand men left in the camp and Robb descended upon them with his cavalry. Tytos Blackwood in turn led his garrison force of five hundred out of the gate and struck the Lannister host from the rear.
All the while Ser Forley Prester watched on from the eastern bank.
As the northern camp was destroyed and the western camp was all but overrun, he ordered his four thousand men to retreat back into the Westerlands.
Now Robb sat in the Godswood of Riverrun, sharpening his blade while leaning against the Weirwood tree, his mind alight with questions once more. At his side, Grey Wind lay down on the ground, eyes closed as it let itself rest.
'King Robb.' He snorted at the title his men had given him. 'How could they proclaim me King in the North before my father?' He wondered in thought, questioning the sense of his men, or lack thereof. 'Don't they believe that he is alive?' The answer to that was simple, no, they did not. It had been many weeks since they had received that letter, by the time it would have reached them, his father would have been taken from Kings Landing, days before that. More news should have come through about his father's whereabouts or at least something to show that he was alive and well.
But there had been nothing and many of the lords of the North had begun to raise their agreements with Ser Brynden Blackfish. The common consensus was that the Lannisters had messed up and gotten Eddard Stark killed and were trying to cover up their mistake as best as they could. To the lords of the North, Eddard Stark was dead and now he was the new Lord of House Stark.
Gripping the handle of his blade, Robb raised it up to his eyes and looked at himself along the flat edge. He barely recognised himself, his beard had grown and he looked less like a boy and more of a man. He felt like one too, the two battles he had fought seemed to have aged him, the weight of the guilt he bore at sending men into battle and dying on his orders was heavy. He wondered if it would ever get easier or would it constantly weigh upon him like this?
"Robb?" Looking up, he saw his mother entering the Godswood, Ser Brynden and his uncle Edmure trailing behind him. The sight of his uncle reminded him that he was not just the King in the North, but the King of the Trident as well. It had been Jason Mallister soon followed by Tytos Blackwood who had proclaimed him as such.
'I don't know whether to be glad or angered to have earned the respect of both men to such an extent that they wish me to be King.' He had tried to refuse of course, on both accounts. However, his bannermen didn't listen, too drunk on both wine and victory. The cheers of, "The King in the North" and, "The King of the Trident" had spread throughout Riverrun, echoing across the surrounding lands into the army camped outside.
Now here he was, sat in the Godswood deep in thought, seeking the guidance of the Old Gods. He couldn't tell if they approved of his bannermen's actions or were disapproving of it. Despite hearing them more often, he could never tell what they felt or thought. They were mysterious in their desires, providing only bits of information but never enough. It was just like the visions he had been given back in Winterfell, only parts of the whole truth.
"You can not remain here forever, the lords are asking for you. They wish to discuss what you plan to do next." Catelyn said and Robb frowned.
"Are you okay with this? Okay with me being named king? It's like admitting that they're…" He paused unable to finish the sentence. Catelyn moved forwards and took one of his hands in hers.
"Robb." She muttered softly, bringing her son into a hug that he returned. "Of course, I don't want you to be King, it puts a bigger target on your back. This war is no longer just about rescuing your father and sisters, but for independence. But…it's been weeks and there's no sign of either your father or sisters, I do not blame the noblemen for growing doubtful."
Robb nodded his head, pulling away from his mother before looking to Edmure and Brynden. "I apologise, uncle, great-uncle for my actions."
"Don't worry, nephew. I apologise for Lord Mallister and Blackwood, I think they got a little overeager and had too much to drink." Edmure said.
Brynden just grunted, he didn't blame the lad for being overwhelmed. "No, they knew full well what they were doing. Overheard them talking about it as soon as we freed Riverrun. Lord Mallister was even talking about it in whispers with Lord Umber at the end of the Whispering Woods. Don't blame them honestly. An army like ours needs a figurehead, a symbol to rally behind, nothing better than a King." Brynden gruffly explained and Robb appreciated that the man was never afraid to tell him the truth.
"Well, it seems I have no choice," Robb admitted with a sigh, he could see the sense in the decision to name him King. It didn't mean he had to like it though, but he'd certainly use it to his advantage. If what Brynden said was true and he was inclined to believe it was, then being King could help him end this war sooner by uniting everyone under him. He just hoped it didn't come back to bite him in the ass.
"The question remains, what do we do if Ned returns?" Catalyst asked. "Robb can't be Lord of Winterfell if Ned is alive, just like he can't be King."
There was silence from the three men as they considered Catelyn's words. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Robb said firmly. Right now they needed to focus their efforts on ending this war and finding his father and sisters. The lords may have named him King, but it was up to him whether he accepted it or not. For now, he would use his position to gain whatever advantages he could get, but afterwards, who knows?
-X-
As he walked down the corridors of Riverrun to the designated war room, behind him Edmure and Brynden followed him. Already he could hear the gathering of lords, 'my lords now,' he thought humourlessly, were already arguing about the next move they should make. It was a wonder the entirety of Riverrun didn't know the inner workings of his court.
The two guards stationed outside bowed, pushing open the two large doors allowing Robb and his two companions to enter.
Inside, the lords gathered went silent as they watched Robb enter the room. His face was calm and his piercing blue eyes looked over the lords before he moved to the head of the table where Theon was standing waiting.
"'Bout time you got here, thought these lot were about to tear each other apart." He muttered quietly, though it was clearly heard amongst the silent lords, each of them sending glares to the Heir of the Iron Islands.
"What seems to be the problem, m'lords? You all seemed to have a great deal of opinions on what we should do next, I'd like to hear them." Much like he should have expected, they all seemed to take this as a sign to continue their earlier arguments, the lords shouting out their ideas only to be interrupted by another. This all eventually descended into chaos and Robb sighed tiredly.
"Alright lads, shut the fuck up!" Greatjon eventually shouted, slamming his fist down on the table making it shake, the figures displayed on the map falling onto the table in a mess. It was entirely unnecessary, the Lord of the Last Hearth having only ever really needed to raise his voice to be heard clearly.
"Thank you, Lord Umber." Greatjon nodded his head, a grin coming to his face as he saw the man he had named King seemingly accepting the role. "Now, I believe we need to bring some order to this before we tear each other apart, yes?" Many of the lords grumbled in agreement, chastised and embarrassed. "Now, if someone would please inform me of the situation…Lord Bolton?"
Roose who had remained silent throughout the proceedings paused, looking to the Young Wolf and studying him. He eventually bowed his head, a show of false subservience, Robb would not doubt for a second that it was all a ploy.
"Of course, your grace." He reached forwards, taking the lion figurines from their positions on the map, all knocked on their sides and having rolled out of position. "After the Battle of the Green Fork, and your own victories here, Tywin Lannister took his men and has since occupied Harrenhall."
Roose followed his words by placing one lion figurine on Harrenhall's position.
"And how did the battle go?" Robb asked curiously, wanting to know the exact measurement of losses that both sides had suffered.
"I did as you asked, marching south slowly. It took us five days to eventually meet the Lannister host, but that was only due to Tywin Lannister marching north to meet us. He sent his vanguard in led by the Mountain to strike our right flank, but as soon as I noticed his right flank moving I called a retreat. Overall, we lost no more than two hundred men and the Lannisters a similar number." Bolton recounted plainly, his voice almost monotonous in its delivery.
Robb nodded his head, watching Roose Bolton place another figure down on Oxcross. He was certainly impressed with Roose, it proved that while he couldn't be properly trusted, the man knew what he was doing. Combined with his own casualties from the Battle of the Whispering Woods and Battle of the Camps, it brought the total number of casualties to just short of one thousand. However, he did not like that he had engaged Tywin, it was an unnecessary act considering how slowly he had moved down along the Ruby Ford. The two hundred lives lost in a meaningless battle, that irked him but he withheld the urge to let it show.
"After your victories, Ser Forley Pester marched his four thousand remaining soldiers west, back into the Westerlands. He is currently camped at Oxcross where he has been joined by Stafford Lannister and recruits from Lannisport. It is obvious that their intention is to raise another host. Exact reports on their numbers are unknown however." With that last bit, Roose stepped back, placing the wolf and trout figurine on Riverrun.
Robb studied the map carefully.
"The host Stafford Lannister is a point of concern, if they are not stopped we would be caught between two armies." Tytos Blackwood pointed out and he was met by boos and arguments from his fellow noblemen. But he was true, in his words, the Lannisters had raised most of their fighting men in the beginning, but they still had men of fighting age and those younger and older who could still bear arms. They simply had to be recalled from the fields and the mines, thousands of them. In doing so though, it would mean a reduction in the amount of gold he could produce to pay for said soldiers to fight. It was the same with many Kingdoms, their army only counted for a portion of their total population, any more and they would be unable to properly supply their army and keep their kingdom functioning.
"Bah, fuck the lot of them!" Maege Mormont cursed, even going so far as to spit on the floor.
"Aye, we haven't lost a battle yet. The Old Lions been playing to our tune and have you forgotten, we've got the Young Wolf!" Galbart Glover concurred, a proclamation met with cheers.
"There's no denying that, his grace is a gifted commander." Jason Mallister argued. "But we should not underestimate Tywin Lannister."
"Enough." He spoke firmly, the lords that looked to be on the verge of another argument went silent, turning to stare at the Young Wolf. "Lord Mallister is right, Tywin Lannister is not a man we can afford to underestimate otherwise all we've accomplished will have been for nothing. We will not fall into the pitfall of arrogance like the Old Lion has done."
There was a number of nods from those that had shared his views and even those of the North who had firmly believed victory was in their grasp at least seemed mollified.
"However, we will not abandon the Riverlands. Ser Brynden, Lord Edmure Lord Blackwood, you will remain here in charge of keeping Tywin in check, Ser Brynden will be in charge of the overall forces. His position in Harrenhall ensures we need to leave a large number of our forces here in case he moves. Your task will be to ensure he goes nowhere."
The three men in question bowed their heads, though Edmure seemed nonplused at not being given command. Robb was wary of doing so, Edmure was a smart man when it came to logistics but this didn't translate to his skills as a commander which was subpar at best. Ser Brynden on the other hand was a veteran of numerous wars and was a gifted commander.
It was a difficult decision of course, especially when it came to choosing between Lord Blackwood and the Blackfish. But at the end of the day, while both were veteran commanders, only one was respected by both men of the north and south.
That man, was Ser Brynden.
"Lord Mallister, you and the rest of the lords in Riverland shall retake your former lands. You will be in charge of coordinating this endeavour. I do not want division but unity." He then pointed to Oxcross. "I personally, shall deal with Stafford Lannister and his host. With them gone, all that remains will be the Old Lion himself."
-X-
As the noblemen of the North and Riverlands slowly trickled out of the war room, Roose stayed behind. His gaze firmly fixed on the hunched figure of the Young Wolf. Lord Mallister had already made excellent progress in the last few weeks, having already retaken the keeps west of Acorn's Hall, the seat of House Smallwood and as far south as Wayfarer's Rest in the south.
All that remained on the western front was Pinkmaiden, the seat of House Piper which had firmly opened their doors to quite a few scattered Lannister soldiers. Lord Clement Piper had apparently lost hope and by all accounts was swayed by Lannister gold. Just like many of the lords and noblemen in the Riverlands.
Since then he had refused all calls to surrender to the new King of the North and Trident. The King in question calling for Lord Mallister to leave Pinkmaiden as he would deal with it himself. It was done in order to show strength, but Roose also imagined it was due to the Young Wolf desiring battle. As a result, Lord Mallisters host which had grown from a simple two thousand to eight thousand had since marched north intent on reclaiming Lychester.
At the same time, Ser Brynden had marched his force of seventeen thousand strong up to Acorn's Hall and was entrenching himself there. He, taking command of the centre while Lord Edmure took the southern flank and Lord Blackwood the northern flank. Each of them kept vigilance on Tywin Lannister who had been hunkered down in Harrenhall.
The boy King was certainly impressive, holding a mind for tactics and strategy that he sadly lacked. Roose was quite envious of the boy for that. Nonetheless, he moved forwards, his sudden movement alerting the Direwolf at his side, which in turn alerted the presence of the Young Wolf. A curious thing that did not escape his notice.
"Lord Bolton, you're still here?" Robb muttered, studying the Lord of the Dreadfort closely with narrowed eyes, the Direwolf, Grey Wind if he remembered its name correctly snarling in warning.
Roose took it as such and came to a halt, he'd seen what the beast could do the Greatjon back at the feast in Winterfell, now the young pup was much larger and more ferocious if the rumours were true. He'd rather not find out so soon, especially considering it was obvious that neither it nor its owner trusted him very well.
A smart choice, you shouldn't trust any man in this world.
He had hoped that his victory at the Green Fork would endear him to the Young Wolf so that he would be in the profitable position. High enough in the northern army so that if by some miracle he won, Roose would benefit greatly. But also high enough that if the tide started to turn against the Young Wolf, he could be of great service to the Old Lion. The longer the war progressed, the more opportunities would present themselves and Roose was not a man to let them escape him. He cared little for northern pride or loyalty, it was a useless thing, all he cared about was the advancement of House Bolton and himself.
However, it seemed that gaining the Young Wolf's trust was going to be a more difficult task than he had originally believed. It was quite obvious that despite doing incredibly well in the Green Fork, he was no closer to earning the boys trust.
Unfortunate, but not overwhelmingly so.
At the end of the day, he was one of the smartest men in the room. With a mind for strategies and tactics on par with the likes of Ser Brynden and Lord Mallister. Eventually, the Young Wolf would have to rely on him and when he did, Roose would be there.
After all, for his task to work he needed to prove himself to the boy King, so it looked like he would have to put more effort into the war.
"My King, forgive me. But may I ask where the Greyjoy boy and Lord Umber are, they were noticeably absent from the meeting today despite marching upon Pinkmaiden on the morrow?" Robb studied him closer for a few moments, before sitting down on his seat.
"I have sent Theon to the Iron Islands to enlist the aid of Balon Greyjoy. If my future plans are to be successful, I will need a navy." Roose said nothing, though his eyes did alight in understanding. There were very few navies in the world let alone Westeros that could match the skill of the Iron Islands. While they lacked discipline, the raiders of the Iron Islands were devastating shock troops, much like the Mountain Clansmen. With their boats, it made them a mobile force that could prove extremely devastating at the beginning of a campaign. "As for the Greatjon, I have him marching North to gather the soldiers of the Mountain Clans."
Roose remained silent, studying the boy closer.
And he found it difficult to argue with what he saw as the boy stared back at him with those same cold blue eyes. The Mountain clans alone were capable of fielding a force of over four thousand men. The problem was that the Mountains were scattered quite heavily over the Northern Mountains.
On short notice, they'd only be capable of gathering possibly a thousand. But Robb hadn't, or at least it seemed like he had decided to not call for the Mountain Clans, Roose had believed it a foolish decision.
However, it seemed that Roose had underestimated the boy. All this time the Mountain clans would have been able to gather their soldiers in secret as everyone was turning their attention to the war going on in the south. Then, all of a sudden another host of four thousand men would be marching south.
"I see, an excellent decision," Roose murmured and Robb studied him closer for a few moments.
"You have no interest in Lannister gold, do you, Lord Bolton?" Robb asked openly and Roose felt his opinion of the boy king drop slightly. To so blatantly ask about his loyalties showed a distinct lack of understanding about politics and subtleties. Perhaps he had begun to overestimate the Young Wolf a little too much, a mistake he'd have to rectify.
"No, your grace." Roose lied easily. 'So long as northern silver is more profitable.'
Nodding his head, Robb turned away and looked back at the map, all the while Roose watched on, stifling a vicious smirk.
-X-
"Father," Theon called, stepping into the Great Hall of Pyke. His father, Balon Greyjoy was sat with his back to him as he watched a fire, giving light to the dark room. Yet despite this, his father never turned to him, continuing to stare at the fire and dismissing him entirely.
"Nine years, is it?" Balon asked eventually, the cracking of burning wood filling the room. "They took a frightened boy and what have they given back?"
Theon took a deep breath, realising that this was his chance to prove himself to his father. "A man." He responded firmly as he moved forwards, his footsteps echoing in the empty room. "Your blood and your heir."
"We shall see?" Balon hissed, his words bringing Theon to a halt. "Stark had you longer than I did."
"He did. Lord Stark has disappeared, dead or captured." Theon didn't know which, nor did anyone it seemed. He had watched this lack of answers tear at Robb who since the start of this campaign south had treated him almost coldly, at times he treated him as if they were still brothers, but it was far and few between. But he still held out hope that it was simply the stress of the war getting to his brother. For in Theon's mind, the two of them, were brothers united and were going to crush their enemies.
"And how do you feel about that?"
Theon hesitated.
"What's done is done?" Again he paused but realised that now was the time. "I've brought you're a proposal from Robb Stark." And again, Theon moved forwards only to stop, when his father spoke once more.
"Who gave you those clothes? Is it Ned Stark's pleasure to make you his daughter?" Balon asked dubiously as he rose to his feet.
"If my clothes offend you, I will change them," Theon spoke, his voice filled with irritation.
"You will," Balon growled back, twisting his head slightly as he looked at Theon closer. "That bauble around your neck? Did you pay the iron price for it or the gold?" Theon felt a scowl come across his face, he was getting tired of people looking down on him. First, it was Robb, then the lords of the North and the Riverlands and now his own father.
"I don't know, did we pay the iron price for this castle?" The reminder of how Pyke was not originally theirs seemed to make Balon's straight face twist into an ugly scowl.
Eventually though, when it looked like Balon was about to strike him, he turned away. Walking back to the fireplace and staring into it. "My fears have come true, the Starks have made you theirs."
"My blood is salt and iron!" Theon exclaimed.
"Yet the Stark boy sends you to me like a trained raven clutching his message."
"The offer he makes is one I proposed," Theon argued.
"He needs your council?" The tone Balon took showed his disbelief at the very thought.
Theon was not to be deterred. "I've lived him, hunted with him and fought at his side. He thinks of me as a brother." As much as Robb had been distant as of late, the memory of Robb when he proposed reaching out to the Iron Islands and his father for aid showed that, above all else, it was true.
{Flashback Begin}
"You're sure about this?" Robb asked, looking to Theon who smirked.
"Don't worry, I'll convince my father to fight with you. With his ships, we'll be unstoppable." Theon boasted, he could see it in his mind. Robb led the combined armies of the North and Riverland on King's Landing while he led the ships of the Iron Island upon its sea gates. The two of them working together to conquer Kings Landing, as brothers.
"Theon, I want to believe you, truly I do. But your father, I don't believe he can be trusted." Robb eventually answered and Theon frowned. His main concern was the visions, the Kraken he had deduced more than likely symbolised the Greyjoys, but he didn't know if that meant Balon or Theon. He didn't think it meant Theon, they had been raised together, hunted together and fought together. To Robb, the idea that Theon could be the one to betray him was inconceivable.
But he wasn't sure.
"You don't need to trust him, trust me. I swear to you Robb, I will bring back my fathers ships and together we'll head to Kings Landing and bring this war to an end." Despite his words, Robb didn't look convinced. "Don't you trust me?"
"I do, Theon. I just, I'm just not sure Balon will be willing to work with us." Taking a deep breath as Theon continued to argue as to why they should do this, Robb eventually relented. "Alright, go. I'm trusting you, Theon."
"Thank you, Robb. I promise that you won't be disappointed."
As Theon went to leave in order to prepare for his journey to the Iron Islands, Robb called out to him.
"Back then, when I was proclaimed King in the North and Trident. You asked if you were my brother, now and always? I said yes." Theon looked at him curiously, wondering where he was going with this. "Am I your brother, now and always?"
"Now and always," Theon responded firmly.
{Flashback End}
"No, not here, not in my hearing. You will not name him brother." Balon growled, staring towards Theon with a murderous glare. "This is the son of the man who put your true brothers to the sword or have you forgotten your own blood?"
Theon paused, his mind temporarily halting as he looked into the anger-filled gaze of his father. But he quickly affirmed himself. "I forget nothing." Theon spat back. "I remember my brothers and I remember when my father was a king." Here, he raised his hand, presenting a scroll to his father who looked at it and then him.
He said nothing, only stepping away and taking the letter, unfurling it as he moved away. He spent a few moments reading over its content before a mocking smile came onto his face.
"I see." He mocked. "I destroy Robb Starks enemies for him and he will make me King of the Iron Islands once again."
"I will lead the attack myself."
"Are you, well?" Balon asked, once again stumping Theon who looked to him in confusion.
"I'm your son, your only living heir." Theon continued, unsure of what Balon was getting at. "Who else…?" On that cue, the door opened and in stepped the woman who had given him ride to the keep on her horse. "Told you to wait outside!" He shouted angered at being disobeyed. "How did you get past the guards?"
"Anything with a cock is easy to fool." She snarked back, a cocky smirk on her face coming to a stop by Balon who rested one arm on her shoulder.
"My dear." He murmured, Theon at first wondering if she was his fathers Salt Wife, only as he looked at her closer did he realise he was mistaken. This wasn't his fathers Salt Wife, but his father's daughters.
His sister.
"Asha?" He questioned in disbelief.
"So good to see you, brother." She shot back a smirk on her face. "This is a homecoming I'll tell my grandchildren about."
The subtle meaning behind it embarrassed Theon who angrily expressed his disapproval. "She can't lead an attack!"
"And why not?" Balon shot back.
"You're a woman!" He shouted, temporarily forgetting the numerous women warriors amongst the soldiers of the North.
Asha wasn't one to back down either. "You're the one in a skirt."
"This isn't Winterfell boy. Your sister took over command of your eldest brothers ship after your new father killed him. What's dead may never die." Balon growled, all three of them raising one hand to place over their hearts. "The nights she spent off these islands have been spent on the sea. She's commanded men. She's killed men. She knows who she is."
Balon moved to the fire, both Asha and Theon watching as he threw Robb Stark's letter into the fire.
"Her man gives me a crown. I pay the iron price. I will take my crown. That is who I am. That is who we have always been." Both he and Asha walked past him without so much as a glance back in his direction.
"You won't stand a chance against the Lannisters in your own!" He shouted.
But neither looked back. "Who said anything about the Lannisters?" Theon watching them leave the room, his gaze trailing back to the burning fire and back to the door in which his father and sister had left through.
-X-
Jon watched the icy land below him as he stood on the top of the Wall. His fur cloak wrapped around him to protect him from the icy cold temperatures, one handing resting on the handle of Longclaw, a gift given to him by Joer Mormont, Lord Commander of the Knights Watch.
His mind was alight with worry as he thought back to the news he had heard. News from the south always travelled slowly up to the North, but come it does eventually.
His father, Eddard Stark was being held prisoners by the Lannisters or was. There were rumours that he had escaped along with his sisters, Sansa and Arya. Not only that, his brother, Robb had marched south with an army at his back to free them. News already spoke of his victories at the Battle of the Whispering Woods and at Riverrun.
He had felt a great deal of satisfaction when he had heard it. As much as he wanted to move south, he couldn't give up his Oaths, no matter how much he wanted to. Plus, Robb seemed to have it all handed in the first place.
"Oi, Snow!" He looked to see one of his fellow brothers walking towards him. "Your shifts over." Nodding his head in thanks, Jon walked past the shivering man without saying a word. It was certainly cold up here, more so than at Winterfell, but he had long since grown used to it, those from the south were a different matter.
The ride on the winch elevator down to the courtyard was slow as always. But it was there that he noticed quite the commotion as a number of mounted men entering through the gates. Among them, he noticed the sigil that they carried, one belonging to House Umber.
As the winch gate reached the bottom he stepped out and met with his friend, Samwell Tarly. "What's going on?"
"Oh, I don't really know to be honest," Sam admitted sheepishly and Jon felt his lips flicker up. "Do you want to go find out?" He asked and Jon shrugged, the two of them eventually moving down where they could hear the large man speaking quite loudly with Allister Thorne.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Joer Mormont demanded marching across the courtyard at the same time he and Sam got the ground. "Greatjon, I see you're as loud as ever, so why are you here?"
"Joer! Heard ya came up here." The Greatjon muttered scratching his beard in thought. "Heard ya gave up yer seat to yer son after the rebellion? Must have stung to know he was a slaver."
Despite the Greatjon's words, the Lord Commander was far from insulted. "As blunt as ever, old friend. So, what brings you here?"
"Ya wouldn't happen to know where Jon Snow is, would ya?" Many of his fellow brothers looked directly at him, both the Greatjon and his men plus Joer turning to look directly at him.
"Now why would you want him?" Joer asked.
"I don't, his brother does." Jon felt his body grow stiff, his brother had wanted him.
Internally, he felt ashamed. All this time he had forced himself to believe that Robb didn't need him and yet, that was far from the truth.
"Right, let's get this over with." Greatjon pulled out a letter from his armour and loudly read its contents, effectively silencing Joer and Allister Thorne before either could say anything. "Jon Snow, by the power vested in me by King Robb Stark, First of his Name, that his base-born brother, Jon Snow be hereby legitimised. Let it be known to all that the holding of Moat Cailin and its surroundings are now hereby given to his brothers Jon Stark."
There were a few murmurs from the crowd, Jon hardly able to believe what he was being told. His brother was a King and he was being made a Lord.
"Lord Jon Stark, Lord of Moat Cailin and Shield of the North has been ordered by his liege lord to march south and aid his brother and King in the war against the Mad King, Joffrey Baratheon. So hereby decrees, King Robb Stark, First of his Name, Lord of Winterfell and Winter, High Chief of the First Men, King in the North and Trident." The Greatjon curled up the letter and looked at Jon expectantly.
But no one spoke, all the Brothers of the Night Watch were silent.
-X-
He felt the ground beneath his feet, smelt the scent of man and horse in the air and above all else he heard the sound of two men talking. Sniffing the air, he moved forwards slowly and carefully, taking care to not make too much noise as he did.
"It's got to be the Mountain. He's the biggest. He's the strongest." He heard one man say and he felt his ears perk up, he was here at last.
"Bulls are bigger than lions. That doesn't mean I'd pick a bull in a fight. If the bull had fangs and claws, I would." Another human spoke and he watched from the foliage he was hidden in as the man sat down by the other one. Both dressed in the armour of lions, he felt his teeth pull as a soft growl escaped his lips, that meant there was food to be had. "Right, the Mountain, or our man Jamie?"
"If he ever gets out." The man paused.
"Loras Tyrell?" The Tyrell's, they were allied with Renly last he checked, his mother should be meeting them soon.
"Loras Tyrell." A man scoffed. "He's prettier than the Queen."
"I don't care about pretty. He's better with a sword than any of them."
"How good can he be. He's been stabbing Renly Baratheon for years and Renly ain't dead." The man laughed and he moved forwards slowly, his presence noticed by the horses who neighed in panic.
Carefully, he slinked back away as one of the men placed down their drinks and rose, his hand resting on the handle of his blade.
"The horses seem a little spooked to you?" What followed was a joke of juvenile humour he'd expect from Theon and he moved forwards slowly as eventually, one guard didn't relax like the other. It seemed his presence was coming under greater suspicion as the guard cautiously moved forwards to his location.
Sensing that the time for action was closing, he anxiously moved forwards, his presence spooking the horses even further. Eventually, it seemed the flimsy rope holding the horses in place couldn't hold under their constant bucking and so they broke free.
As they rushed around and galloped away from him, the Lannister guard released a shout of fear as he leapt at him, mouth agape before he bit into the man's neck. The blood in his mouth was sweet as he ripped the man's neck out before charging on.
-X-
'What was that.' Robb thought in shock as he found himself back on his horse surrounded by his detachment of horsemen. One moment he had closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer to the Old Gods and suddenly, he found himself at the front of the Lannister camp where the horses were being kept a sweet taste lingering on his lips. 'Was I…Grey Wind?'
"Your grace." Lord Bolton spoke from his side and Robb shook his head, it would not do to dwell on such things right now.
Drawing his sword, he urged his mount onwards, Smalljon beside him crying out, "The King in the North!"
"The King in the North!" It was a cry that was echoed by his men as they descend down the hill and onto the disarrayed Lannister camp. The horses that had broken free and those his men had cut free had trampled through the camp, killing dozens and now he and his men descend upon them in the dead of night.
It was a slaughter, plain and simple.
Only about four thousand of the ten thousand strong host were actually trained soldiers. The remaining six thousand were all fresh recruits from surrounding lands. Despite its large numbers, many weren't even trained soldiers and those that were, had already developed a hefty amount of fear for the Young Wolf and his army.
When they noticed the northern army rushing towards them and cutting through swaths of their fellow soldiers, the morale shattered near instantly. Some attempted to fight back, but they were quickly overwhelmed as the remaining men were routed in short order.
Much like every battle so far, it had ended very soon after it had begun and as he rode his horse slowly through what remained of the Lannister camp, he looked upon the dead bodies. The vast majority were men of the Westerlands, but occasionally there was a man from his army scattered amongst them.
"Count our losses and then we will quickly withdraw from here. No doubt the news of our attack will reach our enemy soon." Lord Bolton bowed his head and left, Robb continuing to watch his men move across the remains of the battlefield.
Despite having fought in three battles now, it never got easier to see the dead bodies of those he had led into battle. Just knowing that they died following his orders made his shoulders feel heavy and he released a sigh of regret. Not for the actions, he had taken, there was nothing he could do to change them. He was blessed that things had gone so well so far, yet he knew the future would only become much harder.
Robb just hoped he was prepared for it.
-X-
Catleyn moved quietly behind the two soldiers of the Stormlands. All around her she could hear the cheering and jeering of men as they gathered around to watch two men fight. At one point in time, she thought tourneys such as these were like real wars, she had found them exciting to watch as two men fought.
Now, after having experienced a real war, seen the atrocities it brought and looked upon the changes it had caused in her son, she knew that this was nothing more than a pale imitation.
As the two guards before her parted the men in front, she looked at them all and wondered as to how men older than her son, could be so young and naïve. The two men behind her, handpicked by her son were loyal men from the north and had served in Winterfell as guards. They had fought beside Robb in the Battle of the Whispering Woods and at the Battle of the Camps.
Both were younger than many of the Baratheon soldiers around her, and yet they looked and acted far older. Their hands rested on their blades as they warily studied those around them, stepping closer to the Lady Catelyn Stark as they did to ensure her safety from any possible attack.
Catleyn highly doubted that Renly would attack her, nor did she imagine that he would do anything nefarious. Oh, he insulted her, the fact that he knew she was coming south and had organised a tourney on the very day she was set to arrive was an insult. The fact that he, despite no doubt, having already been informed of her arrival, and kept the tourney going was an insult. The fact that even now, as she was stood across from him, that he never once acknowledged her presence was an insult.
An insult to her and her son and a reminder of their rightful places.
One thing she did note as she looked around the various sigils behind Renly was that it comprised only of houses from the Stormlands. She wasn't overly surprised, Renly was a popular man and beloved by his people. But she found it curious that only houses from the Stormlands were gathered here and that there were no houses from the Reach.
It was curious because they were currently stationed in the Reach at Bitterbridge.
'Perhaps, the reports on Renly's alliance with the Reach is not true after all.' She thought, trying to understand what this would mean.
On the one hand, it meant that Renly's force if it turned out to be unwilling to accept Robb's position of King in the North and Trident, then at least her son would be capable of dealing with a much smaller army. On the other hand, it raised the question of where the Reach's loyalty lay.
Are they remaining neutral or are they allying with others?
Catleyn didn't know and as she thought upon it, she asked herself what to do after the meeting here. Should she return to her son at Riverrun, or should she march west to Highgarden and find out if the Tyrell's were still open to an alliance?
As much as she had argued to stay by her son's side, Catelyn could understand why she was asked to come. Renly was a King and so it would be an insult to him to send anyone else but the highest of noblemen to meet with him. Robb couldn't go as he had marched south to Pinkmaiden to bring the rebellious House Piper to heel before marching on to Oxcross to destroy Ser Stafford Lannisters host.
Her brother, Edmure was overseeing the defence of the southern flank at the Fords. Lord Jason Mallister was leading a campaign to reclaim the lands of the Riverlands. And Lord Roose Bolton was a man not to be trusted in the words of her own son.
That left only her that he could trust to meet with Renly and it not be deemed an insult. Though it seemed while her son despite his inexperience in politics, at least had the decency to try and avoid insulting Renly, the man in question did not share the same decency.
It all came to an end when the large knight parried the smaller knights blade to one side and knocked him to the ground with a bash of his shield. There the knight pointed his blade at the one of the ground who looked at it before raising his arms in surrender.
Behind them, Renly clapped his hands. "Well-fought. Approach." The knight did, marching forward before dropping to one knee. "Right, remove your helmet."
'He' did so and there was mutterings and murmuring from the men of the Stormlands, each of them looking at the woman to be revealed under the helm. She was not a pretty woman, with coarse features covered in freckles, swollen lips and crooked teeth. But she was strong and skilled, there was no denying that.
"You are all your father promised and more, my lady," Renly murmured a smile on his face. "Brienne of Tarth, you may ask anything of me you desire. If it is within my power, it is yours." He declared boldly.
Brienne once again dropped to her knees. "Your Grace, I ask the honour of a place in your Kingsguard. I will be one of your Seven, pledge my life to yours and keep you safe from all harm." Again there were mutterings from the men around them and Catelyn watched on. Shocking though it may have been to see a woman under the helm, it was not a sight she was unused to anymore. There were many warrior women amongst her son's army, many from Bear Island.
One of her sons best warriors and most trusted guards was Dacey Mormont.
"Done! Rise, Brienne of the Kingsguard!"
And as Renly clapped, the men around him did as well, though begrudgingly.
With this done, Catelyn indicated to Renly with her head and the Baratheon soldier stepped forwards. "Your Grace, I have the honour to bring you, Lady Catleyn Stark. Sent as an envoy by her son, Robb, Lord of Winterfell." The man declared, Catleyn stepping forwards into the middle of the men, staring up at Renly on his makeshift throne. With her head held high and her back straight she ignored the looks and whispering of those around her.
"Lord of Winterfell and Winter, High Chief of the First Men and King in the North and Trident." She reiterated, staring up at Renly daring him to refute her words.
Renly just smiled, as he always did. "Lady Catelyn, I'm pleased to see you."
"You are most kind, your Grace." Catelyn bowed her head.
"We have heard tales of your son's exploits. You and Ned should be proud of the son you have raised." Catelyn ignored the empty words and flatteries, all meant to win her over. "I am sorry, for your loss. I swear to you, my lady that when I march upon Kings Landing that I shall avenge his death." She withheld the urge to frown, it was but further proof that many in Westeros suspected her husband to be dead.
"I thank you, your grace. I am pleased to see that my husband was so beloved." Her words were true, Robert and Ned had fought side by side in the war, a union and brotherhood between the North and Stormlands. It had been something that had been passed down into the common soldiers.
Yet while Robert's brash and abrasive personality had made many lords respect and fear him, they did not love him. Ned on the other hand, with his humbleness and sense of duty, had made him well-liked by those that served and fought by his side.
"I have come here for one purpose, your grace." Catelyn declared loudly. "My son, as you have no doubt heard, has been proclaimed King in the North and Trident, a decision made by his bannermen. A decision he has accepted. However, he does not wish for there to be war between you and him. He still remembers his father's stories of how he and Robert were brothers, he hoped that the bond between House Baratheon and Stark was still strong despite recent events. That both you and he could reach an understanding."
"And what understanding would that be?" Renly asked, both ignoring the mutterings of the men around them.
"An alliance, between two Kings. My son will aid you in your efforts to march south and claim the Iron Throne and to bring the Lannisters to justice. In return, he asks that you recognise the independence of the North and Trident as its own independent kingdom under his rule."
"Two Kings and two kingdoms," Renly murmured quietly, rubbing his jaw in thought as he considered her terms. "He would ask that I sacrifice more than half my realm to him?"
Catleyn frowned, having recognised that this may be a possible problem. "The North, as you may have heard is hard and cruel. The people that live there are not wealthy and shaped by the world around them. Despite having the largest of the Seven Kingdoms, we do not have the wealth of many other kingdoms, like say, the Reach."
Renly nodded his head, he had understood that, but it was not the North he was bothered about. Despite not officially being one of the Seven Kingdoms, the Riverlands was a very rich place in both agriculture and trade. It was second in terms of agricultural wealth behind the Reach, which meant that the North would have a steady supply of food.
"There is one problem with your request, my lady," Renly spoke and by the way her lips thinned, he knew that Catelyn was aware of what he was talking about. "The Riverlands."
"The Riverlands proclaimed my son their King, not you." She snapped. "My son defeated Jamie Lannister and liberated Riverrun, he commits his soldiers now to free the rest of the Riverlands while keeping Tywin Lannister at bay. All you do is camp here and have tourneys. My son is fighting a war for a just cause, that is something both the men of the North and Riverlands recognised."
Renly was far from insulted, a far cry from the soldiers under his command who shouted in outrage. He instead just chuckled, clapping his hands.
"You have a sharp tongue, my lady." He chuckled. "Forgive me, I meant no insult. But as much as I respect your son, I cannot just let him walk off with more than half the realm without concessions. I am aware that your son is unmarried, yes?"
"He is."
"Excellent, then may I propose a marriage. A joining of our two realms and houses. A child of his joined in marriage with a child of mine?"
-X-
Sipping gently on her wine, Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns leaned comfortably back into her chair. The day had just reached its peak and the light was reflecting down on the beauty of Highgarden, showing it in all its splendour and glory. Truly, it was the jewel of the Reach and perhaps, the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms.
Though with the current war waging on in Westeros, perhaps even a brothel could be considered a jewel.
It wasn't surprising that things had gotten to this point. The Targaryens led by Aegon Targaryen had come as conquerors, forcibly uniting most of the Seven Kingdoms and only integrating Dorne through marriage. Since then, they had ruled, symbols of strength and in some cases, madness.
In the chaos that ran rampant across the realms back when Aegon the Conqueror first arrived, House Gardener had ruled the Reach. They all perished when they resisted the Targaryens and in doing so, the Reach was granted to them, House Tyrell.
Since then, they had navigated the rocky and treacherous roads of the Game of Thrones. Trying to gain more influence and power, they had met with minor success, almost losing it all when Robert Baratheon destroyed the Targaryens dynasty and replaced it with a Baratheon one.
And look at how that had gone.
Five years after he ascended to the throne, the Iron Islands declared war on the entirety of Westeros in what had come to be known as the Greyjoy Rebellion. And the less said about Robert's reign in peacetime the better, the Seven Kingdoms actually seemed to be under better rulership when in the middle of a war when Robert was on the throne.
And all the while her house had worked hard to ensure they kept their influence, the Lannisters had grown to be the unofficial rulers of the realm.
Now that war was here, there was finally an opportunity to tear down their longtime political rivals, the Lannisters and increase their own standing. Except, instead of being cautious and thinking things through, her son wanted to go put all their money on a single horse.
If she didn't remember giving birth to the fool, Olenna would question if he was even hers.
"Grandmother, here you are." Looking up, she saw her grandson, Willas Tyrell enter the room. His cane tapped against the floor as he slowly made his way to join her at the table, taking a seat and pouring himself a glass of wine as he did. "Father is looking for you."
Olenna scoffed. "No doubt to try and get me to change my mind. He should be happy that I didn't order for Renly to be imprisoned."
"And would you have?" Willas asked.
"Of course not, doing so would have alienated us to a potential ally."
"And yet you refuse to join Renly's cause. If we did, he'd have over a hundred thousand men at his command. The largest army in Westeros." Olenna simply shook her head, he was smart her grandson. While he was no longer able to sharpen his skills as a warrior, he had instead worked hard to sharpen his mind. Yet at times, her grandson acted much like any man, unable to see anything other than what was right in front of him.
"If we did, you're right, Renly would have an overwhelming advantage. But I'm sure you remember the letter we received of Ned Stark's escape, yes?"
"Of course, because of it you called off Margaery's betrothal to Renly and told the lords of the Reach to withdraw their support and troops from Renly's army. A very unpopular manoeuvre." Willas omitted the fact that the angriest was his younger brother, Loras. The young man had been outraged and had been caught trying to sneak out of Highgarden to join Renly.
Loras hadn't gotten far, eventually captured by Garlan and other men of the Tyrell guard and brought back. He was, last Willas checked, locked in his room under heavy guard to ensure he didn't do something similar.
"Yes, despite his misgivings, Renly is a gifted orator loved by many," Olenna muttered. "But you forget who Ned Stark is, an honourable man. I like the Stark's for that, they're a breath of fresh air. So terribly honest that you can't help but like them and pity them. Ned Stark is loved by the lords of North, the Vale and the Stormlands. If he really wanted to he could crown himself King and you'd be hard-pressed to find people willing to go against him."
What Olenna didn't mention because it didn't need to be, was the fact that Ned would never do that. He was too honourable and so, would never make a grab for power on such a scale, it was for that very reason that people loved him so, though that wasn't the only reason.
"Mmm, even so, Renly is the only one that would provide us with the chance to gain the power we seek."
And there came the crux of the matter.
The Tyrells and more specifically Mace Tyrell wanted to be connected to royalty through marriage and blood, he wanted his grandchildren to be Kings and Queens, and Princes and Princess. It was an ambition shared by many in the realm, the only problem was that the Tyrell's always found themselves on the wrong side of things, losing influence instead of gaining it.
Tywin Lannister had practically made Joffrey a puppet king and there was no way the Tyrells would be able to gain any measure of influence or power that would make allying with them worthwhile. That was how the Lannisters were, greedy and possessive, unwilling to let go of what was theirs.
Stannis was no better and there was no love loss between him and their house. The Siege of Storms End had left a bitter taste in Stannis' mouth so much so that Olenna wondered if purely out of revenge he'd strip them of all their lands and titles. He wouldn't, no King would want to risk destabilising the realm and rebellions so soon after becoming King. Then again, Stannis had never been an orthodox individual, nor was his recent conversion to the pagan God from across the Narrow Sea in Essos.
Apparently, if the rumours could be trusted, Stannis was burning people alive in some pagan ritual. No, she'd rather not ally herself with what was obviously another Mad King in the making.
Renly was a good choice, an excellent choice. If one didn't overlook the fact that he had no real claim to the Iron Throne. Stannis was the rightful King if Robert Baratheon's children were actually the children of Queen Cersei and the Kingslayer. And if Ned Stark had escaped from the Black Cells then he would support Stannis due to honour dictating it.
Though his new religion might be a cause for serious problems between the two.
But if Ned Stark did ally with Stannis that meant he would be an enemy of Renly. Most of his forces would be comprised of soldiers from the Reach, the lords from the Stormlands on the other hand would be wary of fighting the Lord of Winterfell. Renly would lose a portion of his fighting force before the fighting even began.
Stannis on the other hand would gain the soldiers of the North and Vale, possibly even many of the Stormland and Riverland soldiers as well. As numerous as the soldiers from the Reach were, that was not a fight anyone wanted to fight alone.
No, it was too early to attach oneself to a singular King yet. It was best to sit back and watch as the events unfolded around them, then they could make the best decision for their future.
"Speaking of the Stark's," Willas spoke, interrupting Olenna's train of thought. "It seems that we have a new King in this war. The lords of the North and Riverland have proclaimed Robb Stark their King. Hardly surprising really, he has quite a fearsome reputation and legend building, especially considering he has all but disarmed Tywin Lannister."
Olenna noted the tinge of respect in Willas' voice when he mentioned Robb Stark's recent string of victories.
"And your opinion on the war?"
"If things continue the way they are, it is most likely that Robb Stark will win. Tywin Lannister made the correct decision in staying at Harrenhall, it forces Robb to commit most of his forces to ensure he can keep Tywin in check. However, it seems the Young Wolf was more resourceful than we imagined. Lord Jason Mallister has been hard at work reclaiming the castles and keeps that had either remained neutral or surrendered to Lannister occupation in the Riverlands. His force, from our last reports numbered over eight thousand strong."
Olenna hummed, agreeing it was a smart idea. Lord Jason Mallister was a renowned commander of great skill.
"This also puts more pressure on Tywin, though instead of pushing that avenue. It seems the Young Wolf has instead decided to not aggravate the Old Lion. His supply lines from Kings Landing to Harrenhall have been untouched and it seems that both sides are content to remain where they are. It's a stalemate as far as things go." Willas finished.
"Hmm, but that won't remain the case for long. If I remember correctly, there's another Lannister army being raised, yes?"
"Yes, last reports on their strength put them at ten thousand though most are fresh recruits. Even so, their presence alone puts pressure on the Young Wolf much like how Lord Mallister's actions put pressure on the Old Lion."
"And what does dear Garlan believe the Young Wolf's next move will be?"
"Brother believes they will be mounting an invasion on the Westerlands. Stark still has six thousand men at Riverrun, though our last reports showed him marching south to Pinkmaiden in order to reclaim it. No doubt he will be using those men to at some point launch an invasion into the Westerlands and wipe out the Lannister force raised there. If he does that he will have the advantage in this war."
And as Willas said that, Olenna went silent considering what this could mean for the future.
-X-
A fist slammed into the table sending the sound echoing across the Great Hall at the Golden Tooth. All around the men of the North that had been feasting and celebrating to their two consecutive victories, first at Oxcross and then at the Golden Tooth, halted. The lords and noblemen looking to see the Young Wolf crunching the letter in his hands, a deep angry glare upon his face as his mouth curled into a snarl reminiscent of his Direwolf.
"Your Grace?" Lord Marq Piper, the new Lord of Pinkmaiden asked hesitantly from beside the King.
"My father raised him, taught him and loved him. And this is how he repays our family?" Robb seethed as he got his feet, Grey Wind sensing his master's anger released a deep growl. "Lord Bolton! Lord Karstark!"
"Your Grace?" The two men replied, rising up from where they were situated in the room, Rickard surrounded by his two sons, Harrion and Eddard while Roose had secluded himself in a quiet corner, watching the proceedings around him with a studious gaze.
"You are to remain here and ensure that our foothold in the Westerlands is secure. Do not leave or attack any Lannister forces until you receive my orders." He ordered firmly, stalking across the Great Hall and out of the room barely paying attention to the affirmation from the two lords in question.
Despite never giving the order, his personal guard rose from their positions across the Great Hall and followed after him.
"You mind if I ask what was in the letter?" Smalljon asked as they entered out into the courtyard.
"Theon has betrayed me," Robb spoke firmly, Dacey Mormont ordering the stable boys to bring their horses, Olyvar Frey having already rushed ahead. "The Greyjoy's have invaded the North." His grim words made the men of the North frown in anger, many spitting on the floor or cursing Theon's name as they did.
Robb paid it no heed, taking the reins from Olyvar and swinging himself up into his saddle.
"We make haste to Riverrun."
So yea, Robb has freed Riverrun, being proclaimed King in the North and Trident, taken Pinkmaiden, routed the Lannister host at Oxcross and conquered the Golden Tooth. Jon is coming south with the Greatjon and the Mountain clans. Renly is having tourneys, cutting off supplies to Kings Landing from the Reach and waiting for the Stark's and Lions to tear each other apart. And last but certainly not least, the Tyrells are being neutral.
Things are changing and growing more complex in Westeros and things are only going to get worse in the future. Even when it looks like Robb is on his way to victory, the Game of Thrones always has another trick up its sleeve.
Now their maybe some confusion as to the lay out of this chapter, mainly the information shown. This is especially apparent with the talk between Olenna and Willas. At that point in time, Robb was marching south to take Pinkmaiden, but the last time we saw him, he had wiped out the Lannister forces at Oxcross and at the end was at the Golden Tooth.
Now, let me explain. First, Robb set out from Riverrun to take Pinkmaiden where Marq Piper was named the new Lord of Pinkmaiden after he managed to convince his father to open the gates. Due to refusing to surrender to Robb, Clement Piper was stripped of his lands and titles and they were given to his son and heir, Marq. There, Robb went west, snuck around the Golden Tooth through a mountain pass and wiped out Stafford Lannisters host of 10,000 before marching back east and taking the Golden Tooth.
Hope that clears up any confusion.
Kira007Goddess of Chaos: This is a rewrite of Robb Stark: The One True King which looking back on it now, was terrible. My knowledge of the world and tactics was just, appalling. So, I decided to change things up and make it much better with a lot more changes. Robb won't be steamrolling over his enemies like he did before and there will be a lot of crazy things happening in the future.
Anyway if you do have questions, please do let me know in a review and I will answer them. However if a question has spoilers in I will send you a PM letting you know and then you can decide whether to wait or not.
