Chapter 37: First Battle
299 AC, Golden Tooth…
The army marched through the Westerlands, their pace swift and purposeful. They traversed narrow roads and winding paths, their footsteps echoing against the rocky terrain. Rody walked alongside his fellow Greycloaks, engaging in light-hearted banter to keep their spirits high during the arduous journey.
Hunter spoke up amidst the chatter. "You know, I've spent some time in the Westerlands during peacetime. The terrain can work to our advantage if we play our cards right."
Rody turned to his friend, intrigued by Hunter's insight. "Tell me more, Hunter. What have you observed?"
Hunter grinned, his eyes gleaming with the excitement of sharing his knowledge. "Well, these lands are known for their treacherous valleys and hidden passes. If we utilize the terrain wisely, we can catch the Lannisters off guard. Their larger host might struggle to navigate through these rugged lands, while our smaller and more mobile forces can strike swiftly and disappear into the hills."
Rody nodded, impressed by Hunter's understanding of the Westerlands' geography. He could already envision the possibilities that lay ahead. Exploiting the natural advantages of the terrain could give them a significant edge in their upcoming battles.
Jon Snow, the commander of the Greycloaks, chimed in, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "Hunter, your insights are invaluable. It seems you have a keen eye for strategy. We will make use of this knowledge to outmaneuver the Lannisters. However, this place is their home, surely they would know more about this. We would be lucky if we don't get caught in their traps."
Hunter's face lit up with pride, grateful for the recognition from his commander. "Thank you, commander. I've always been fascinated by the tactical aspects of warfare. It's an honor to contribute to our cause."
Rody placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder, a smile playing on his lips. "You've said it well, Hunter. Your observations will undoubtedly aid us in our campaign."
The march through the Westerlands continued, the army propelled by a sense of purpose and the shared determination of its soldiers. Rody, Jon, and the Greycloaks pressed forward, following the crown prince, their minds focused on the mission at hand.
As they continued their march, the landscape shifted around them, revealing the untamed beauty of the Westerlands. The rugged hills and dense forests became their allies, concealing their movements and offering opportunities for strategic maneuvers. Rody's mind brimmed with possibilities as he contemplated the tactics that would soon come into play.
Luckily, most villages they encountered were already razed to the ground so there were no men alive to inform anyone about their route.
With each passing day, the army drew closer to their destination, their determination unyielding. They knew that the battles to come would test their mettle as this was going to be their first real battle in this campaign. However, they were prepared to face whatever challenges awaited them. The North and the Riverlands had joined forces, their strength united under the banner of House Stark.
As the army continued its march, a Greycloak soldier approached Rody and Jon with a grave expression. He saluted them before delivering his report.
"Commander Snow, Rody," the soldier began, his voice filled with urgency. "We encountered a group of enemy scouts just a few kilometers ahead. We engaged them and were able to eliminate them, but it appears that the newly raised Lannister host is close. They must have sent out scouts of their own."
Rody exchanged a concerned glance with Jon. The proximity of the enemy was cause for alarm, and they knew it was imperative to inform the commanders of the army, Crown Prince Robb Stark and Lord Rickard Karstark. Without hesitation, they made their way towards the front of the marching column.
Arriving beside Robb and Lord Karstark, Rody addressed them respectfully. "Your Highness, Lord Karstark, we have received information that enemy scouts have been encountered nearby. The Lannister host appears to be in close proximity."
Robb's brows furrowed, his face etched with a mixture of concern and determination. He exchanged a quick glance with Lord Karstark before turning his attention back to Rody and Jon. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. We must remain vigilant and prepared for any encounter. Spread the word among our commanders and ensure that our forces are ready for engagement."
"It won't be long before we encounter them, we should take an advantageous position before they come upon us." Lord Rickard said.
Robb nodded his head and stopped his horse before turning around to look upon a nearby hill. "We could take position there, if they are marching out of Westerlands, then they must pass from here."
Rody's eyes followed Robb's gaze to the hill in the distance. It offered a strategic advantage, providing a commanding view of the surrounding area. The idea of setting an ambush there seemed wise, as it would give them the upper hand in the impending battle.
However, Lord Rickard Karstark interjected, his voice filled with concern. "Your Highness, with all due respect, it is crucial that you remain protected. As the Crown Prince and a vital figure for the North, your safety must be our utmost priority. It would be wiser for you to remain at the rear of the army, coordinating our forces from a secure position."
Robb's expression hardened, his determination evident as he met Lord Karstark's gaze. "I understand your concern, Lord Karstark, but I will not hide while my soldiers risk their lives on the front lines. We fight as one, and I will be with them, leading by example."
Rody and Jon exchanged glances, understanding the weight of Robb's decision. It was a testament to his character and his unwavering commitment to his people. Rody stepped forward, his voice laced with respect and conviction. "Your Highness, if you choose to lead from the front, then I, along with our commander and the Greycloaks, will stand by your side. We will protect you and ensure your safety, just as we always have."
Robb's stern expression softened, a hint of gratitude shining in his eyes. He nodded in acknowledgement, a silent understanding passing between them. The Crown Prince, driven by his sense of duty and the legacy of House Stark, made his decision.
The army swiftly changed course, ascending the hill to take their positions in preparation for the ambush. Rody, Jon, and the Greycloaks formed a protective circle around Robb, their unwavering loyalty serving as a shield against any harm that might befall their leader.
As they settled into their positions, anticipation hung heavy in the air. The soldiers maintained a disciplined silence, their weapons at the ready, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the approaching Lannister host. Time stretched on, each passing minute carrying with it a mixture of tension and resolve.
Finally, a scout emerged from the distance, racing towards the waiting army. He approached Robb, delivering his message with a sense of urgency. "Your Highness, the enemy army is only a few hours away. They march swiftly and appear to be well-prepared. We must ready ourselves for battle."
Robb nodded, his expression resolute. "Thank you for the information. We are prepared for what lies ahead. Send word to our commanders to make their final preparations. The time for battle has come."
As Robb's words echoed in the air, Rody felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. The battle was imminent, and it was his duty to prepare himself and his men for what lay ahead. He turned to the Greycloaks standing beside him, meeting their determined gazes.
"Men, the time has come," Rody began, his voice steady yet filled with intensity. "We find ourselves on the brink of battle, facing a formidable enemy. But we are Greycloaks, soldiers of the North, and we stand united under the banner of House Stark."
His words were met with resolute nods and hardened expressions from his comrades. They knew the weight of their responsibility, the importance of staying together as a cohesive unit during the chaos of battle.
"We must remain vigilant and protect our Crown Prince at all costs," Rody continued, his eyes scanning the faces of his men. "Our loyalty to Robb Stark is unwavering, and today, we prove our mettle. Stay close, watch each other's backs, and fight as one. Together, we shall emerge victorious."
Jon Snow stepped forward, his voice filled with determination as he added, "And don't forget our direwolves. Ghost and Grey Wind will be fighting alongside us, sniffing out danger and striking fear into the hearts of our enemies. Let them be our eyes and ears on the battlefield."
At Jon's words, Rody watched as Jon's direwolf, Ghost, raised his head and let out a low growl. In response, Robb's direwolf, Grey Wind, mirrored the gesture, his lips curling into a snarl as he gazed towards the approaching Lannister army.
Rody placed a hand on Jon's shoulder, a silent gesture of camaraderie and trust. "We fight for our home, our people, and for the North. Let our courage be a beacon to all who stand against us. Today, we defend our honor and secure a brighter future for those we hold dear."
With those words lingering in the air, Rody joined his fellow Greycloaks in readying themselves for battle. He adjusted the straps of his armor, tightened his grip on his sword, and reaffirmed his resolve.
Beside him, Robb's voice rang out, strong and commanding, as he yelled orders to his commanders, rallying them for the coming battle. The time for talk had ended, and the clash of steel and the roar of war would soon drown out all else. With their leader at the front, Rody, Jon, and the Greycloaks steeled themselves for the fight to come, their bond forged in loyalty and their determination unyielding.
As the tension built, the Lannister army began to take position on the opposite side of the battlefield. Rody's gaze shifted to the enemy forces, observing their formations and estimating their numbers. The Lannister footmen formed ranks, preparing for the impending clash, while their cavalry held back, wary of the Stark cavalry that awaited them.
Robb's voice rang out once more, cutting through the air with authority. "House Blackwood! Archers under my command, prepare to loose your arrows!"
Archers of House Blackwood was renowned throughout the realm for their archery skills, and their longbows were capable of reaching the enemy from the advantage of the hill. Rody watched as the archers took their positions, their arrows notched and bows drawn taut. The air crackled with anticipation as they awaited the command to unleash a storm of deadly projectiles upon the Lannister ranks.
With a swift motion of Robb's hand, the archers released their arrows, a cascade of death raining down upon the Lannister footmen. The sky darkened momentarily as the arrows found their marks, piercing armor, and flesh. The Lannisters, caught off guard by the precision and range of the Blackwood archers, scrambled to protect themselves, their formation disrupted.
Realizing the disadvantage of their position and the threat of the Stark cavalry on their heels, the Lannister footmen had no choice but to charge forward, their battle cries filling the air. Their only hope lay in engaging the Stark forces up close, where their superior numbers might prove decisive.
Rody's heart pounded in his chest as he took his stance, his sword at the ready. Beside him, the Greycloaks mirrored his movements, their eyes locked on the oncoming enemy. Their loyalty to House Stark burned brightly, and they were prepared to lay down their lives to protect their prince.
As the Lannister footmen closed in, taking great steps to climb the hill, Rody could see the determination etched on their faces. The clash of steel was imminent, and the battlefield would soon be bathed in blood and chaos. But Rody was unfazed, his mind focused and his spirit unwavering. He knew his duty, and he would fulfill it with unwavering resolve.
The air grew thick with tension as the two armies braced for impact, the clash of steel and the cries of battle looming on the horizon. In that moment, Rody's thoughts were clear and his purpose unwavering—to protect Robb Stark and fight with every ounce of his being to secure victory for House Stark.
With a thunderous roar, the Lannister footmen slammed into the Stark shield wall, their swords clashing against the sturdy shields of the Greycloaks. Rody gritted his teeth, feeling the impact reverberate through his arm as he parried a fierce blow. His eyes darted back and forth, his focus split between his opponents and the figure of Robb Stark, who fought with a lethal combination of strength and agility, his direwolf Grey Wind tearing through the enemy ranks.
Rody lunged forward, his blade finding its mark as he slashed through an enemy's defenses, bringing him crashing to the ground. With every swing and parry, he maintained a keen awareness of his surroundings, ensuring that no harm befell Robb. But the Crown Prince seemed almost unstoppable, cutting down his foes with a skill and ferocity that matched the wild spirit of his direwolf.
Amidst the chaos, Rody's attention was caught by a man in Lannister colors, his green eyes glinting with malice and his golden hair flowing in the wind. It was an uncanny resemblance to the Lannister lion sigil. Rody's grip on his sword tightened, a surge of determination fueling his strikes. He engaged the man, their blades clashing in a deadly dance. With a swift and precise movement, Rody's sword found its mark, piercing through the man's defenses and ending his life.
The battle raged on, the clash of steel and the cries of pain filling the air. Rody fought with a mix of skill and instinct, his every move calculated to protect his prince and strike down any threat that dared to approach. The Greycloaks fought alongside him, a cohesive unit that moved as one, their shields forming an unbreakable barrier against the relentless onslaught of the Lannister forces.
But despite their resilience, the Lannister numbers were overwhelming, and the battle became a bloody struggle. Rody could feel the strain in his muscles, the weight of fatigue starting to settle upon him. Yet, he refused to yield.
In the midst of the chaos, Rody's attention was drawn to a sudden flurry of movement near Robb. Several Lannister men, seizing the opportunity, attempted to surround the Crown Prince. Rody's heart skipped a beat, his instincts kicking into overdrive as he swiftly moved to intercept the attackers.
With a deft maneuver, Rody parried a strike aimed at Jon Snow, deflecting the blow with his own blade. Jon, his eyes narrowed in determination, swiftly retaliated, dispatching the Lannister soldier with a lethal strike. Rody fought alongside him, their movements in perfect harmony, as they carved a path through their adversaries.
Meanwhile, Hunter, the skilled archer of the Greycloaks, positioned himself strategically. Drawing his bow with remarkable speed and precision, he unleashed an arrow that found its mark, felling one of the encroaching Lannister men. The swift intervention allowed Jon's direwolf, Ghost, to pounce upon another assailant, tearing through armor and flesh with savage fury.
Rody and several Greycloaks swiftly joined forces with Robb, who was locked in combat with a formidable Lannister warrior. Their combined efforts unleashed a barrage of strikes, overwhelming their opponents. As the enemy ranks dwindled, Rody's focus remained steadfast on protecting Robb, ensuring that no harm would befall the Crown Prince.
A moment of opportunity presented itself as Rody caught sight of an enemy soldier attempting to strike at Robb from behind. Without hesitation, Rody propelled himself forward, slamming his forehead into the man's face with a resounding crack. As the Lannister soldier stumbled backward, clutching his broken nose, Rody seized the opportunity, swiftly driving his blade through the man's guts, ending his threat.
The battlefield became a whirlwind of steel and chaos, but Rody fought on, his resolve unbroken, as he and the Greycloaks pushed forward, protecting their prince and fighting with unwavering determination.
The battle raged on for what felt like an eternity. Hours passed, and the Lannister numbers continued to dwindle, their forces overwhelmed by the relentless assault of House Stark. The remaining Lannister soldiers, realizing their impending defeat, attempted to flee the field, their hopes of escape dashed as the Stark cavalry thundered after them with ruthless efficiency.
The Stark cavalry, led by seasoned commanders, swiftly ran down the retreating Lannisters, cutting off their escape routes and leaving no chance for survival. The sounds of hooves pounding against the ground mingled with the desperate cries of the defeated, as the Stark forces ensured that no enemy would live to threaten them again.
With the field cleared and victory firmly in their grasp, a wave of exhaustion washed over the Stark army. The commanders, battle-weary yet triumphant, gathered to congratulate Robb on his leadership and the hard-fought victory they had achieved.
Robb, his armor dented and stained with blood, surveyed the battlefield with a mix of relief and pride. He turned to Rody, his voice filled with gratitude, "Rody, you saved my life back there. I am indebted to you. Your loyalty and skill have proven invaluable."
Rody, still catching his breath, nodded humbly. "My prince, it is my duty to protect you. I would lay down my life for House Stark without a moment's hesitation."
The other commanders, recognizing the courage and skill displayed by Rody and the Greycloaks, offered their congratulations and words of admiration. There was a shared understanding among them, a bond forged in the crucible of battle.
As the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue upon the battlefield, the victorious Stark army settled on the road, taking a moment to rest and tend to their wounds. The weary soldiers found solace in the company of their comrades, sharing stories of bravery and relief, their spirits buoyed by the hard-fought victory they had achieved. The battle may have been won, but the war was far from over. House Stark, united and resolute, prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead, their resolve unwavering in the face of adversity.
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