Twin River City.
The afternoon sun had lost its scorching intensity. Its warmth now felt gentle, almost pleasant, signaling that the long days of summer were yielding to the early embrace of autumn. A soft breeze stirred through the city, rustling leaves and carrying the faint smell of the river, blending with the more pungent scents of the bustling streets.
In the Banquet Hall of the city, Eddard Karstark sat upon Walder Frey's favorite ebony chair. From this elevated position, he observed the uneasy captives spread before him. Their numbers were limited—a carefully selected group handpicked by Abel from three hundred prisoners—but their fear was palpable. They were all bound hand and foot, their eyes darting nervously from one person to the next, each silently questioning what fate awaited them.
Eddard had requested that these captives have no direct or indirect blood ties to House Frey. Their only "crimes" were paying taxes, tending to their lands, and selling their labor for coin. Most had families living within the city or in nearby villages. Should they be forced to flee, the distance would not exceed two or three hours on horseback.
Fifty captives sat in tense silence. No one dared speak, though their mouths were not gagged. Rumors of the young man seated upon the ebony chair had already reached them. The streets whispered that he was a wizard, able to see into hearts and summon lightning to punish the insolent. Even these captives, in chains and fear, had caught snippets of the gossip.
Eddard lightly tapped the polished table with his middle finger. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice calm yet carrying the authority of someone accustomed to command, "you have all witnessed the horrors of battle today. I need not remind you of the bloodshed, for it is seared into memory. None of us desire more violence—least of all, I."
To appear approachable, he had donned a black robe with House Karstark's white sunburst embroidered on the chest. A lacquered black wooden box rested on the table in front of him.
"Perhaps you do not care," he continued, "but I must explain why this conflict began. This battle was instigated by House Frey. These scoundrels betrayed their King, tore apart alliances, and defected to the Lannisters."
His tone carried a weight that demanded attention. Eddard's words framed him as a just and righteous man, a figure whose integrity might earn the captives' trust.
"But things are far from over," he said, lifting the lid of the wooden box. Golden coins gleamed in the sunlight, immediately drawing the eyes of every captive.
"An army marches along the King's Road, heading this way. They will not be polite. If they enter Twin River City without resistance, death, plunder, and chaos will be inevitable. To prevent this, I need the help of every able person."
He paused for effect, letting the silence hang in the air. Then, with deliberate clarity, he continued:
"I am generous, unlike Walder Frey. If anyone is willing to aid me, I promise that after the enemy is repelled, you will regain your freedom and receive no less than five Gold Dragons. Should you be wounded, the reward doubles; if you die in battle, it triples. Additionally, your family may take shelter within Twin River City during the fight, ensuring their safety."
Eddard's oath rang true: "I swear this by the Old and New Gods, and by the honor of House Karstark!"
A ripple of whispers spread through the hall. Faces that had moments ago been clouded with fear now displayed surprise, hope, and cautious curiosity. Some captives leaned toward one another, whispering, while others stared directly at Eddard, weighing his words.
The battle-axe at Eddard's side had seen countless campaigns. Its blade, likely steeped in blood, gleamed in the afternoon light. Abel and Matthew stood nearby, waiting by the chopping block, ready to perform executions should any foolhardy soul step out of line. Yet none dared.
Eddard slammed his hand upon the table, silencing the murmurs. "From left to right, row by row, I will point at each of you. If you are willing to fight for me, stand, bow in submission, and state your name, age, and place of residence. Those I deem suitable will be accepted into my service. Let us begin."
He pointed at the first captive—nervous, he shifted in place. The second, equally anxious, faltered and said nothing. This pattern continued until the tenth person, a lean young man with dark skin, stepped forward.
He bowed swiftly. "I am Rollger, from Water Mill Town, twenty-one years old. Lord Eddard, I do not know your quarrel with House Frey, nor do I care for any king. But recently, you avenged my sister. For that kindness, I am willing to fight for you!"
The system prompt appeared almost immediately:
[Current warrior willing to pledge loyalty: Rollger from Water Mill Town]
[Loyalty: Average]
[Reason: 1. Captured by your army. 2. Previously served House Frey. 3. Avenged his sister.]
[Troop Tier: None]
With a few quick commands, Eddard unlocked Rollger's troop tier options: River Fishermen, Riverlands Soldier, Torrent Warrior, Tideguard, Ice Rain Retainer—each step increasing strength, constitution, agility, and morale when fighting in the Riverlands.
"Good," Eddard said with a gentle smile. "You shall have the chance to repay that kindness."
Abel stepped forward, slicing the ropes binding Rollger. "You are free. Report to the barracks in the Eastern District." He patted the young man's shoulder with a friendly nod. A gleaming Gold Dragon was thrown down to Rollger, who caught it instinctively.
"Since you are willing to fight for me, this is an advance reward," Eddard explained. Rollger's fingers trembled as he held the coin, realizing its value. In Water Mill Town, it could purchase a fine warhorse or feed a small family for weeks.
The Banquet Hall came alive after that. Seeing Rollger step forward encouraged others. Fear gradually gave way to resolve. Captives who had been silent now pleaded for the chance to fight, eager to escape chains or earn reward for their families.
By nightfall, Eddard had recruited 128 soldiers from over two hundred captives, checking each one's loyalty. Only those with average loyalty or higher were accepted. Some sought freedom or coin; others, motivated by family safety or a sense of justice, genuinely wished to defend the city.
Those deemed "Very Poor" sought only to scam the system, while the "Extremely Poor"—fiercely loyal to House Frey—were shackled and assigned the hardest labor. Eddard used hunger, exhaustion, and relentless toil to enforce compliance.
By dusk, the city was quiet but tense. Soldiers patrolled the streets with torches. Residents queued at warehouses to collect supplies and coins, ensuring stability during the coming siege. Eddard's generosity toward House Frey's stockpiles encouraged loyalty among the common folk and prevented potential sabotage.
The drawbridge was raised; the gates tightly shut. Abel brought a bowl of fish soup, rich with thick chunks of fish from the Green Fork River, accompanied by fresh bread, mutton sausage, and boiled peas. Even simple meals were a morale boost, the aroma reminding everyone of home and hope. Weapons were scarce, but food and arrows plentiful.
Now, all that remained was waiting for the arrival of Earl Randyll Tarly's forces. Eddard knew that when the battle came, every decision, every loyal soldier, and every coin could determine the fate of Twin River City.
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