Post by Percy Rivers on Apr 2, 2008 21:37:28 GMT -5
OOC: Already discussed this with the Smith, and it's ago.
Roose surveyed the clearing before him. It had been completely been cleared of trees, and was now one of the few open spots in the Haunted Forest. Before him stood an assortment of pikemen and swordsmen, steel gleaming in the northern sun. Behind him stood the archers, a line of tar and oil in front of them. They stood poised, ready to fire. Even further up the hill was an assortment of catapults and bastillae.
"Any word?" Roose asked of his aid? "What of Ser Gyle's outriders." The man shook his head, a bandage tied around his head and one ear. He had lost the right one to frostbite. Roose shifted his eyes back to look on the clearing, and, lost in thought, began to think of the last few weeks.
The young Lord of Winterfell looked up into Benjen's face. The former Night's Watch ranger and Lord of the North now looked harsher, more hardened than ever before. Roose's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. He remembered waking once, and seeing another man in black poised over a kneeling Qhorin, sword raised. Benjen squated before the man, talking to him. When Qhorin shook his head Benjen sighed, and nodded to the other Night's Watch ranger. The man brought the sword down, taking Qhorin's head right off. Then all went dark.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity he awoke. Before him stood Benjen again. "Finally awake boy?" His former mentor asked. "What...wha...why?" Roose finally managed.
"Why? Why betray the realm, my vows?" Benjen said harshly. Another five Night's Watch men were in the room. "Why did they?"
He leaned in close to Roose, and shook his head. Roose noticed something different about his kinsman. "Because I saw them." He stood, "After that I could not abandon these people...the one's the southroners call wildlings." He said the word with such spite. "No one deserves to be...to be...changed into something like that..."
He turned and pointed at Roose. "I march south soon. And your army will not stand in my way. These people, my people, need the protection that the Wall provides."
Roose mumbled something. Benjen leaned in. "What was that boy?"
Roose looked up, "I said you were the sword in the darkness. You were the watcher on the walls. You were the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men...and you turned against it all."
Benjen stood, and put his hands behind his back. "If you survive little Stark you will learn that some vows must be broken in order to hold up a greater good. Now go...go back to your army, and prepare yourself for battle."
It had taken Roose another three weeks to reach the camp. What he found was devastating, and yet, strangely heartening. Men, sick from frostbite, and starving due to the stopped supply of food coming from the Reach all rose to meet them. He heard a cheer like none other. And when Blizzard, the black Direwolf ran from a nearby tent to his friend and master the men gained heart. An aide with only one ear approached. "My lord, what would you have of us?"
Roose smiled for the first time in weeks, but a certain melancholy sadness took root in side of him, to no one's knowledge but his own, they would be marching against his own family. Yet he let none of that show, and kept showing his wild, wolfish smile. "We shall have battle."
=====================
"Wait sire." The aide said. "I see something."
Roose came back to his senses and looked to where the man was pointing. What appeared to be one of his outriders came charging towards his line. But then he was close enough to see what it really was. The man had had his body tied to the horse after he had been beheaded, and his horse sent charging towards Roose's northmen.
The aid was about to say something else when a vast line of men came from the treeline. Shouts in the guttural language of the First Men were heard. And then a man in black stepped up to a stump. He lifted a head before him, and spoke in the common-tounge. "I am Eddison Hill! And this is the fate of those who would defy this people's right to the peace and comfort of the southron lands!"
Roose reached down, and picked some soil up, rubbing it between his hands. He looked to his right, and patted Blizzard on the head. The direwolf had grown larger, almost the size of a foal. "I've heard enough of this." Roose said in almost a snarl. "Captain, you have your orders. Fire on my signal."
Roose mounted up and rode to the far right. Into the trees he rode, finally reaching a second, smaller army. He looked in satisfaction, this would be the key to the battle. A line of nothern calvary. No doubt Benjen would most likely charge his own calvary down the same flank. With the Milkwater on the left, their was little choice. However, behind the calvary waited a line of spearmen, hidden from view by the horses.
Roose took his horse to the front of the calvary. "Now then? Who here is ready for a fight?" The men raised their weapons and cheered. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired about living on hardtack and saltbeef." He pointed towards the enemy lines. "We make war that our lands may live in peace. We will meet the enemy, we will make them ours. War is cruelty, there's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over. So do not spare, nor grant mercy to any who would raise his sword against you, he deserves none."
He looked down, to Blizzard, who stared back up at him. He turned his eyes to the archer with the flaming arrow, and nodded.
The Captain looked on as the signal rose over the Haunted forest. He nodded to the aid, who raised a horn to his lips. Ahoooooooooo The three lines of pikemen began to move towards the wildling host. Officers over the archers shouted orders. "Light arrows! Hold! Loose." Over two thousand arrows flew over the infantry's heads, hitting the wildlings. Catapults began to stones and pots of burning pitch. "Give them hell!" A man shouted.
Roose heard the first sounds of battle, and lowered his lance, bring his horse to a light trot. The rest of the calvary moved with him as a single body. Soon behind was the extra line of spearmen.
After what seemed to be an hour of bombardment, the first line of northern pikemen reached the wildling line. The battle raged fierce, for the wildlings, despite poor equipment, were good fighters.
Roose brought his horse to a full charge, Blizzard running beside him. What he saw next took the breath right out of his mouth. A wildling calvary charge, with giants mounted on mammoth's behind that. The two groups of horsemen met in a clash, steel ringing off iron and bronze; metal cleaving through flesh and bone; lives ending in a flash.
Roose dropped his broken lance, and pulled a short calvary sword from his saddle scabbard. He thrust it into the neck of wildling's horse, and the man fell before him. The bloodrage was on him, and he let loose a battlecry that was half a roar and half the howl of a wolf. He fought, and fought, and swung his sword in a deadly arc. Men all around him fell, but he was oblivious to it all. Suddenly he felt the wind go out of him, and felt himself flying through the air. He looked up to see a Giant standing over him, a club clutched in his fist. The hairy beast said something in First Men, about to bring the club down on the last Stark in Winterfell...and then the infantry reached them. A man pulled him to his feet. "I've got you m'lord." Roose watched as three men plunged the iron tips of their spears into the giant's flesh. He saw the wildling calvary begin to collapse as spear and pike armed infantry began to reap death and destruction among the horses and giants. Roose began to run after them, before seeing Benjen.
Roose pulled the greatsword from the sheath on his back. He felt the muscles through his entire body ache at the weight of the thing. The fifteen year old boy called out to Benjen. "King! Your Grace! Come see what Winterfell has to offer traitors!" Benjen turned to answer his call. "Is that you boy? I thought I told you to turn back."
No more was said as they fought. Roose felt himself hardpushed, Ice, the fabled Valyrian Steel sang in Benjen's hand, far outpacing the clumsy attempts by Roose to pentrate Benjen's defences. The King-beyond-the-Wall held it in one hand and stepped forward, punching Roose in the face, knocking his helmet off. Roose tried to parry a blow from Ice, and was shocked when the castle forged steel was cut through. He stumbled backwords, falling against a rock. Benjen closed in. "It ends here boy....I'm so sorry." He lifted Ice over his head...a cold, harsh reality in his eyes. Roose seemed to leave his body at that moment, and everything began to move slowly. He felt the broken sword clutched in his hand move forward, thrusting. He felt it slide between leather, and into flesh. He pulled his arm back, and thrusted again, and again, and again, before finally letting the haft go...
Roose lay there, Benjen in his arms. "Boy..." The man coughed up blood. "It's over...all over....it is all lost. These people will fall, the whole world over will fall. The strength of men will fail...." Roose held him closer. "I do not know what strength is in our line, but I swear to you I will not let the North fall… nor our people fail!"
Benjen opened his eyes slightly. "Our people?" Roose nodded. "The north remains strong." Benjen tried to reach over and grasp Ice's hilt. "This is yours now. There are things you need to know, letters and things in my tent....and boy? Roose? Save this people, these....wildlings...."
And with that, Benjen Stark passed. Roose hung his head. I am a kinslayer.
=====================
The northern calvary crushed the rest of the widling force as it his their left flank. The barbarians began to rout, trying to find their way back to the camp that held their wives and children. The men of the North pursued, taking the camp in its chaos. As per instruction the soldiers killed all who would resist, but spared the lives of others. These people were to become a vassal to Winterfell now, they would give up their 'freedom' for the protection of the north. Any who resisted would face the wrath of House Stark. For some it was a bitter taste in their mouth, for others it was salvation, a promise of peace.
For one person though, none of that mattered. The soldiers found Roose later, a Valyrain Steel sword clutched in his hands, a man in his lap. They did not recognize him, and said nothing as they helped their liege to his feet.
=====================
From the tree line Gisella watched the Lord of the North walk off. She smiled her own knowing smile as she patted the head of Blizzard, who sat near her, a small boy held her hand. "And now the Lord of Winterfell has two choices...wallow in self-loathing...or accept his fate, become a man, and take strength from the blood that now runs through his sword, the blood of his line, the blood of the Kings of Winter."
Result:
Wildling activity utterly destroyed. What wildlings that are left are sworn to obey the decree of Winterfell and the Iron Throne.
Documents and other artifacts concerning the Others taken from Benjen Stark's tent by Roose.
Roose gains the greatsword Ice.
He increases to master in command, and expert in the greatsword.
Roose surveyed the clearing before him. It had been completely been cleared of trees, and was now one of the few open spots in the Haunted Forest. Before him stood an assortment of pikemen and swordsmen, steel gleaming in the northern sun. Behind him stood the archers, a line of tar and oil in front of them. They stood poised, ready to fire. Even further up the hill was an assortment of catapults and bastillae.
"Any word?" Roose asked of his aid? "What of Ser Gyle's outriders." The man shook his head, a bandage tied around his head and one ear. He had lost the right one to frostbite. Roose shifted his eyes back to look on the clearing, and, lost in thought, began to think of the last few weeks.
The young Lord of Winterfell looked up into Benjen's face. The former Night's Watch ranger and Lord of the North now looked harsher, more hardened than ever before. Roose's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. He remembered waking once, and seeing another man in black poised over a kneeling Qhorin, sword raised. Benjen squated before the man, talking to him. When Qhorin shook his head Benjen sighed, and nodded to the other Night's Watch ranger. The man brought the sword down, taking Qhorin's head right off. Then all went dark.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity he awoke. Before him stood Benjen again. "Finally awake boy?" His former mentor asked. "What...wha...why?" Roose finally managed.
"Why? Why betray the realm, my vows?" Benjen said harshly. Another five Night's Watch men were in the room. "Why did they?"
He leaned in close to Roose, and shook his head. Roose noticed something different about his kinsman. "Because I saw them." He stood, "After that I could not abandon these people...the one's the southroners call wildlings." He said the word with such spite. "No one deserves to be...to be...changed into something like that..."
He turned and pointed at Roose. "I march south soon. And your army will not stand in my way. These people, my people, need the protection that the Wall provides."
Roose mumbled something. Benjen leaned in. "What was that boy?"
Roose looked up, "I said you were the sword in the darkness. You were the watcher on the walls. You were the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men...and you turned against it all."
Benjen stood, and put his hands behind his back. "If you survive little Stark you will learn that some vows must be broken in order to hold up a greater good. Now go...go back to your army, and prepare yourself for battle."
It had taken Roose another three weeks to reach the camp. What he found was devastating, and yet, strangely heartening. Men, sick from frostbite, and starving due to the stopped supply of food coming from the Reach all rose to meet them. He heard a cheer like none other. And when Blizzard, the black Direwolf ran from a nearby tent to his friend and master the men gained heart. An aide with only one ear approached. "My lord, what would you have of us?"
Roose smiled for the first time in weeks, but a certain melancholy sadness took root in side of him, to no one's knowledge but his own, they would be marching against his own family. Yet he let none of that show, and kept showing his wild, wolfish smile. "We shall have battle."
=====================
"Wait sire." The aide said. "I see something."
Roose came back to his senses and looked to where the man was pointing. What appeared to be one of his outriders came charging towards his line. But then he was close enough to see what it really was. The man had had his body tied to the horse after he had been beheaded, and his horse sent charging towards Roose's northmen.
The aid was about to say something else when a vast line of men came from the treeline. Shouts in the guttural language of the First Men were heard. And then a man in black stepped up to a stump. He lifted a head before him, and spoke in the common-tounge. "I am Eddison Hill! And this is the fate of those who would defy this people's right to the peace and comfort of the southron lands!"
Roose reached down, and picked some soil up, rubbing it between his hands. He looked to his right, and patted Blizzard on the head. The direwolf had grown larger, almost the size of a foal. "I've heard enough of this." Roose said in almost a snarl. "Captain, you have your orders. Fire on my signal."
Roose mounted up and rode to the far right. Into the trees he rode, finally reaching a second, smaller army. He looked in satisfaction, this would be the key to the battle. A line of nothern calvary. No doubt Benjen would most likely charge his own calvary down the same flank. With the Milkwater on the left, their was little choice. However, behind the calvary waited a line of spearmen, hidden from view by the horses.
Roose took his horse to the front of the calvary. "Now then? Who here is ready for a fight?" The men raised their weapons and cheered. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired about living on hardtack and saltbeef." He pointed towards the enemy lines. "We make war that our lands may live in peace. We will meet the enemy, we will make them ours. War is cruelty, there's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over. So do not spare, nor grant mercy to any who would raise his sword against you, he deserves none."
He looked down, to Blizzard, who stared back up at him. He turned his eyes to the archer with the flaming arrow, and nodded.
The Captain looked on as the signal rose over the Haunted forest. He nodded to the aid, who raised a horn to his lips. Ahoooooooooo The three lines of pikemen began to move towards the wildling host. Officers over the archers shouted orders. "Light arrows! Hold! Loose." Over two thousand arrows flew over the infantry's heads, hitting the wildlings. Catapults began to stones and pots of burning pitch. "Give them hell!" A man shouted.
Roose heard the first sounds of battle, and lowered his lance, bring his horse to a light trot. The rest of the calvary moved with him as a single body. Soon behind was the extra line of spearmen.
After what seemed to be an hour of bombardment, the first line of northern pikemen reached the wildling line. The battle raged fierce, for the wildlings, despite poor equipment, were good fighters.
Roose brought his horse to a full charge, Blizzard running beside him. What he saw next took the breath right out of his mouth. A wildling calvary charge, with giants mounted on mammoth's behind that. The two groups of horsemen met in a clash, steel ringing off iron and bronze; metal cleaving through flesh and bone; lives ending in a flash.
Roose dropped his broken lance, and pulled a short calvary sword from his saddle scabbard. He thrust it into the neck of wildling's horse, and the man fell before him. The bloodrage was on him, and he let loose a battlecry that was half a roar and half the howl of a wolf. He fought, and fought, and swung his sword in a deadly arc. Men all around him fell, but he was oblivious to it all. Suddenly he felt the wind go out of him, and felt himself flying through the air. He looked up to see a Giant standing over him, a club clutched in his fist. The hairy beast said something in First Men, about to bring the club down on the last Stark in Winterfell...and then the infantry reached them. A man pulled him to his feet. "I've got you m'lord." Roose watched as three men plunged the iron tips of their spears into the giant's flesh. He saw the wildling calvary begin to collapse as spear and pike armed infantry began to reap death and destruction among the horses and giants. Roose began to run after them, before seeing Benjen.
Roose pulled the greatsword from the sheath on his back. He felt the muscles through his entire body ache at the weight of the thing. The fifteen year old boy called out to Benjen. "King! Your Grace! Come see what Winterfell has to offer traitors!" Benjen turned to answer his call. "Is that you boy? I thought I told you to turn back."
No more was said as they fought. Roose felt himself hardpushed, Ice, the fabled Valyrian Steel sang in Benjen's hand, far outpacing the clumsy attempts by Roose to pentrate Benjen's defences. The King-beyond-the-Wall held it in one hand and stepped forward, punching Roose in the face, knocking his helmet off. Roose tried to parry a blow from Ice, and was shocked when the castle forged steel was cut through. He stumbled backwords, falling against a rock. Benjen closed in. "It ends here boy....I'm so sorry." He lifted Ice over his head...a cold, harsh reality in his eyes. Roose seemed to leave his body at that moment, and everything began to move slowly. He felt the broken sword clutched in his hand move forward, thrusting. He felt it slide between leather, and into flesh. He pulled his arm back, and thrusted again, and again, and again, before finally letting the haft go...
Roose lay there, Benjen in his arms. "Boy..." The man coughed up blood. "It's over...all over....it is all lost. These people will fall, the whole world over will fall. The strength of men will fail...." Roose held him closer. "I do not know what strength is in our line, but I swear to you I will not let the North fall… nor our people fail!"
Benjen opened his eyes slightly. "Our people?" Roose nodded. "The north remains strong." Benjen tried to reach over and grasp Ice's hilt. "This is yours now. There are things you need to know, letters and things in my tent....and boy? Roose? Save this people, these....wildlings...."
And with that, Benjen Stark passed. Roose hung his head. I am a kinslayer.
=====================
The northern calvary crushed the rest of the widling force as it his their left flank. The barbarians began to rout, trying to find their way back to the camp that held their wives and children. The men of the North pursued, taking the camp in its chaos. As per instruction the soldiers killed all who would resist, but spared the lives of others. These people were to become a vassal to Winterfell now, they would give up their 'freedom' for the protection of the north. Any who resisted would face the wrath of House Stark. For some it was a bitter taste in their mouth, for others it was salvation, a promise of peace.
For one person though, none of that mattered. The soldiers found Roose later, a Valyrain Steel sword clutched in his hands, a man in his lap. They did not recognize him, and said nothing as they helped their liege to his feet.
=====================
From the tree line Gisella watched the Lord of the North walk off. She smiled her own knowing smile as she patted the head of Blizzard, who sat near her, a small boy held her hand. "And now the Lord of Winterfell has two choices...wallow in self-loathing...or accept his fate, become a man, and take strength from the blood that now runs through his sword, the blood of his line, the blood of the Kings of Winter."
Result:
Wildling activity utterly destroyed. What wildlings that are left are sworn to obey the decree of Winterfell and the Iron Throne.
Documents and other artifacts concerning the Others taken from Benjen Stark's tent by Roose.
Roose gains the greatsword Ice.
He increases to master in command, and expert in the greatsword.
Hope you all are well and happy.