"Revenge is a dish best served Cold"- The common words of House Belmont in the aftermath of their Retribution Campaign, known to historians as the Sack of Dorne
"The Belmont's and their people possess an indomitable will. We thought very little of them, they were descendants of savage Northerners and wore their heritage proudly. But no matter how many times we had beaten them, they would simply grit their teeth, stand back up and come back at us with greater ferocity than before. In the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms, there is no noble house that has endured and despises defeat more than the Belmont's. I do not wish to ever again fight a people who refuse to admit they are beaten no matter what was thrown at them..." - Extract from a Journal of King Artys Arryn
"Belmont at the Gates! Seven have mercy... Belmont at the Gates!" - Words that inspired dread during the days of King Theon Stark's southern military campaign.
"I will not let Moat Cailin- a fortress we have held for the Kings of Winter for thousands of years be reduced to a second Harrenhal, nor will I let my men be victims to another Field of Fire. No, we will do what they least expect, Attack." - Lord William Belmont, the night before his successful assault on the Targaryen Vanguard Camp
"It is ironic to refer to them as savages, as through them lineages such as Gardner, Greyiron, Durrandon and more recently Targaryen have survived through them." - Maester Yandel on the Lineages of the Northern Realms post-Robert's Rebellion
Chapter 1: Robert Belmont
As dawn broke over High Heart, the first rays of sunlight illuminated the ancient weirwood trees that stood sentinel on the hill. Their white bark glowed ethereally against the backdrop of darkening skies. Robert Belmont stood at the forefront of his assembled forces, his heart heavy with both dread and determination. Beside him were his son and heir Adrian, and Adrian's lover, Joy Stone, the Griffin King's bastard daughter, their expressions mirroring his own resolve.
The soldiers of House Belmont formed a sturdy line behind them, clad in chainmail and bearing sigils that fluttered defiantly in the wind. They were joined by men from various noble houses across the Riverlands—each one united by a common cause: to protect this sacred ground from destruction.
Robert's thoughts drifted back to why he and his family was exile from the Stormlands, while clutching tightly on the Valyrian steel sword, Blue Beak. This all begins when Maldon IV Durrandon, the Storm King of House Durrandon, took an Andal maiden as his wife. Durran XXIV was born of this union, became known as Durran Half-Blood due of begin born half Andal. He followed the example of his father and also took a wife of pure Andal blood. During his reign, and the following ones, Andal warlords became lords and petty kings and married the daughters of Stormlords and gave them their daughters in return, swearing fealty and their swords for lands
That was the beginning of the end for House Belmont. Persuade by his Andal wife, Durran gave Robert and his House a choice: submit to the Andal's religion, the Faith of Seven or be exiled from the Stormlands. Robert chooses to be exiled. After everything his House did for House Durrandon, the King had nerve to demanded him to change his old faith for a new one? No. He was born to served and worship the Old Gods. And he will die to served and worship the Old Gods.
Leaving the Stormlands was not enough. It seems Andals were everywhere, not just in the Stormlands, but also in Dorne, the Reach, Riverlands, everywhere. He heard that the North remains free of the Andal infestation and decided to emigrate his House to the North where they can be safe, hoping the Winter Kings of Winterfell give him haven. But upon learning about King Erreg's intentions to slaughter the Children of the Forest and raze their sacred grove, he knew he could not stand idly by. This was not merely a battle for land; it was a fight for faith and history itself.
Joy Stone, bastard daughter of the Griffin King of Vale, stepped forward, her eyes scanning the horizon where dust clouds billowed ominously—the heralds of an approaching army. "Look!" she exclaimed as she pointed toward a distant figure atop a black stallion—the banner of House Erreg flapping violently in the wind behind him.
King Erreg raised his sword high above his head—a signal that sent ripples through his ranks like wildfire. With a thunderous roar, thousands surged forward as one cohesive force—a tide of steel and fury aimed directly at High Heart.
"Steady!" Robert shouted as he drew his sword from its sheath. The sound echoed like thunder among their ranks as men tightened their grips on weapons and shields alike.
The clash began almost immediately as arrows rained down upon them like deadly rain. Joy moved fluidly among her comrades, her training evident as she deflected arrows with her shield while urging others to take cover behind makeshift barricades constructed hastily from fallen branches and stones.
Adrian fought valiantly beside her but felt an overwhelming sense of fear creeping into his heart as he witnessed men falling around him—brave souls who had come together under one banner now reduced to mere memories amidst chaos.
"Stay close!" Robert commanded as he maneuvered through enemy lines alongside Adrian and Joy. He could see King Erreg's forces advancing relentlessly; they were well-trained knights backed by mercenaries eager for bloodshed.
However, they did not call Belmonts "Dauntless Vanguard of the Storm King" for nothing.
Robert Belmont, a seasoned warrior renowned for his tactical brilliance than his savage yet skilled fighting prowess. Belmont convened a council with leaders from various noble houses. They discussed their options in light of their dire situation. The Andals were relentless in their pursuit, having already laid waste to neighboring territories in their quest for conquest. The defenders knew they had little time before King Erreg's forces would arrive at High Heart.
Belmont devised a plan that capitalized on their geographical advantage. He ordered his men to fortify their positions around High Heart, creating an impenetrable shieldwall—a formation that had been used effectively throughout history. Each soldier stood shoulder-to-shoulder, shields locked together, forming a barrier against any assault.
In addition to the shieldwall, Belmont commanded a contingent of archers positioned behind the front lines. These archers were tasked with raining arrows upon the advancing Andal forces as they approached. Belmont's foresight allowed him to prepare traps and obstacles along potential paths that could be exploited by enemy cavalry.
As dawn broke over High Heart, King Erreg's army marched forward with confidence borne from their numerical superiority. Their battle cries echoed through the valley as they charged toward the defenders' positions. The first wave crashed against Belmont's shieldwall like waves against rocky cliffs.
The archers unleashed a hailstorm of arrows upon the Andals as they closed in. Many fell before they even reached striking distance; however, those who remained pressed on undeterred. The clash of steel rang out as swords met shields in a cacophony that reverberated across High Heart.
Despite suffering heavy casualties from Belmont's archers and steadfast shieldwall, King Erreg ordered another charge—this time with cavalry support intended to break through what he perceived as an unyielding defense.
The Andal cavalry thundered forward in waves, attempting to shatter Belmont's defenses through sheer force. Seven times they charged; seven times they were repelled by Belmont's disciplined soldiers who held firm under pressure.
Each time an Andal cavalry unit crashed into their ranks, it seemed as though victory might slip from Belmont's grasp; yet each time they found strength in unity and resilience in purpose. With every failed charge came renewed determination among defenders who fought not just for land but for something far greater—their way of life and sacred heritage tied deeply to High Heart.
However, after seven grueling assaults—each more desperate than the last—the eighth charge proved different. Exhaustion weighed heavily on both sides; horses were spent from relentless galloping while soldiers struggled against fatigue and wounds sustained during battle.
This time when King Erreg commanded his cavalry forward once more, something shifted within Belmont's ranks—a momentary falter caused by fatigue led some defenders to waver just enough for Andal horsemen to exploit gaps within their formation.
With a deafening roar echoing across High Heart, Andal riders surged through these openings like water breaking through cracks in stone—a breach had been made! What followed was chaos; horses reared up while men clashed indiscriminately amidst swirling dust clouds kicked up by hooves pounding earth beneath them.
The battle devolved into brutal melee combat where individual valor became paramount over formations or strategies previously employed—sword met sword amidst cries of anguish mingled with shouts for glory or vengeance depending on one's allegiance.
Robert fought valiantly at this juncture; he moved like lightning through foes surrounding him—his blade dancing deftly between opponents while rallying his men wherever possible despite overwhelming odds now stacked against them due largely due exhaustion setting into both sides alike after hours spent fighting fiercely without respite.
As he course through the battlefield, he spots the Andal King, Erreg, rallying his men. To defeat him would not only shatter Andal morale but also serve as a rallying cry for those who sought to protect their sacred ground. Yet amidst this chaos, Robert caught sight of Joy Stone—the beloved of his son—engaged in a desperate struggle against an imposing Andal knight. She fought fiercely but was clearly outmatched; her movements were becoming increasingly frantic as she parried blow after blow. Robert's heart sank at witnessing her plight; he could not allow her to fall to this brute.
With renewed vigor, he charged toward them through throngs of combatants. The world around him faded into insignificance as he focused solely on Joy's perilous situation. Just as Ser Garrick raised his sword high to deliver what would surely be a fatal strike, Robert lunged forward and intercepted it with his own Valyrian steel blade.
"Joy! Run!" he shouted as he engaged the knight in combat.
The two men clashed violently; Robert's experience matched against the knight's brute strength created an explosive dynamic on the battlefield. With every strike exchanged between them, Robert felt time slow down—the sounds around him dulled until it was just him and this knight locked in mortal combat.
Finally finding an opening amidst their duel, Robert managed to disarm the knight momentarily before delivering a swift kick that sent him sprawling backward. Without hesitation, he turned to Joy and urged her again to flee towards safety.
But fate had other plans; just as relief washed over him at saving Joy from certain death, pain erupted from behind him—a sharp blade pierced through flesh without warning. Staggering forward from shock more than injury, Robert turned slowly to see another Andal soldier standing over him triumphantly.
Mortally wounded yet driven by sheer willpower and love for his family and homeland, Robert summoned every ounce of strength left within him. He pushed himself back onto unsteady feet despite blood pouring from his wound—a primal instinct ignited within him fueled by desperation.
With a guttural battle cry that reverberated across the field like thunderclaps heralding doom upon foes' hearts—Robert charged toward King Erreg himself who stood surveying the chaos unfolding below like some dark deity presiding over destruction.
Erreg noticed Robert's approach too late; before he could react or raise his weapon in defense—Robert closed in fast enough to plunge his Blue Griffin deep into Erreg's chest.
Both men fell together onto cold earth—their lives extinguished simultaneously yet leaving behind echoes that would resonate throughout history long after they were gone.
The death knell sounded across both armies; shock rippled through Andal ranks like wildfire igniting panic among them—what had once seemed invincible now appeared vulnerable without their king leading them into battle!
In disarray they began retreating hastily back towards their lands while cheers erupted among defenders celebrating victory snatched from jaws despair!
Amidst this tumultuous scene filled with joy mingling sorrow—Robert lay gasping on ground feeling warmth fading away slowly yet content knowing sacrifice made wasn't futile.…
Glossary
House Belmont of Moat Cailin: House Belmont was a noble family in the north, whose seat is Moat Cailin. Their coat of arms if Blue Griffin flying in the white background. Their official House words are "If you want peace, prepare for war" while their unofficial House words are known "Revenge is a dish best served Cold".
The Belmont originated from the Stormlands, a cade house to House Connington of Griffin's Roost. Their original keep was Storm Griffin, located Dornish Marches, overseeing the lands between the Stormlands, Dorne, and Reach. House Belmont has earned the nickname "Dauntless Vanguard of the Storm King" due to their formidable military prowess and strategic significance during critical conflicts. This title reflects both their martial capabilities and their allegiance to the ruling powers in the Stormlands. After losing favor from King Durran XXIV Durrandon and driven into exile with their lands and titles stripped, the Belmont moved to the North where House Stark welcomes them in open arms. Since then, the Belmont became one of House Stark's strongest loyal Noble Houses of the North, earning the nickname, "Shield of the North".
Culture: The members of House Belmont are known to have "Red Eyes" similar to the faces on weirwood heart trees carved by the children of the forest. Ardent Warriors, it says before they learn to walk, a Belmont, male or female, was taught to learn how use a sword. While humble and respectful, this passive personality can evaporate whenever a combat situation arises. Belmonts are fierce and unorthodox warriors and extremely aggressive in battle. Belmonts are well known laughing or smiling right before they die, as though they have accepted their fate and exhibit no fear of death. Belmonts traditionally follows the old gods, possess an adventure spirit, and has reputation as lusty lovers with voracious sexual appetite.