Woo-woo-woooo!
The Karstark warhorns blared, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate through the very stones of the hillside. As the last note echoed, a faintly visible curtain of grey light, shimmering like a veil of mist under the noon sun descended over the entirety of Unicorn Fortress. It lingered for a heartbeat, a ghostly ripple in the air, and then vanished as if it had never been.
"ARCHERS! FIRE!!" Eddard's command was a thunderclap.
On the flanks of the narrow road, two hundred Mallister and Karstark longbowmen surged forward to their designated marks. They moved with a rhythmic, practiced grace, drawing their first shafts even as their boots hit the dirt.
Twang--thwack!
A dark, whistling rain of arrows arched into the sky, descending upon the battlements of Unicorn Fortress. Before the first volley had even landed, the archers had already nocked their second, sending a continuous stream of steel-tipped death to pin the defenders behind their stone crenellations.
"CHARGE!!"
At the signal, the laborers, mostly conscripted peasants from the neighboring loyalist villages advanced with scaling ladders. Their faces were masks of terror, but the steel at their backs was more frightening than the walls in front. Behind them followed the First and Second Guards Corps, their eyes burning with a fanatical intensity. In the North, everyone knew the Marquis still had Masterless fiefs to grant. Every man on that hill saw the fortress not as a obstacle, but as a title.
"PUSH! Use your legs, you bastards! If you want to be lords, start acting like you have the strength for it!"
Karas Snow, hidden beneath the thick oak planks of the armored battering ram, shouted until his lungs burned. He put his shoulder against the central timber, his muscles bulging as he pushed the multi-ton carriage up the steep, narrow ramp.
Even for the robust Northmen of the First Guards, the weight was staggering. The armored ram was a monster of timber and iron, and the incline was brutal. Every inch was a struggle of meat against gravity. Sweat poured down Karas's face, stinging his eyes and dripping from his chin onto the churned mud of the path. He could see nothing but the few feet of ground in front of him and the iron-shod wheels of the contraption.
From the front of the ram, the frantic screams of Rand Buck cut through the din.
"DO NOT MIND ME! SHOOT! THROW THE STONES!" Rand shrieked, his voice cracking with hysteria. "LET MY BROTHER INHERIT! KILL THEM ALL!"
THUD.
A ballista bolt, nearly ten centimeters wide at the head, punched through the overhead planks with the force of a falling star. It struck Karas's shoulder plate, the heavy steel deforming and twisting with a screech of tortured metal. The force nearly knocked him off his feet, and the bolt ricocheted upward, sparking off the helmet of the man behind him.
"Gods!" "Fuck!"
The curses rang out as the men stumbled. Karas felt the familiar cold finger of death brushing his spine. The ramp felt miles long.
On the walls, the defenders of House Turner and House Bert were working frantically to reload the scorpions. But as they pulled the heavy iron cranks, a strange, sickening lethargy began to seep into their limbs. Their movements became sluggish, as if they were wading through a river of thick honey. A task that took thirty seconds in training now seemed to take an eternity.
Anguy, perched on a rocky outcropping three hundred yards away, watched through his bow-sight with growing confusion. As the champion archer of the Hand's Tourney, he knew the timing of a siege engine better than anyone.
"Why aren't they firing?" Anguy muttered.
He didn't wait for an answer. He loosed a bodkin arrow that whistled across the gap, piercing the neck of a ballista operator who was struggling just to lift a bolt. The man slumped over his machine, his slow-motion death a testament to the strange malaise gripping the castle.
Eddard stood at the base of the hill, his golden telescope focused on the gatehouse. A satisfied smile played on his lips.
[System Notification: Advanced Magic Unlocked.]
[Active Status: Greater Slow cast on Unicorn Fortress.]
[Active Status: Greater Strength cast on First Guards Corps.]
Ever since he had attained the rank of Marquis, the System had evolved. He no longer dealt in minor sparks and petty tricks. He had traded five hundred units of Soul Power for the ability to warp the very flow of a battle.
He raised Heartbreaker. A ball of crimson light flickered on the Valyrian steel, then shattered into a thousand translucent red threads. They drifted through the air, seeking out the bodies of his soldiers like heat-seeking needles.
Under the ram, Karas Snow suddenly saw the world turn a shade of vibrant red. He thought he was blacking out from exhaustion until an explosive surge of power erupted from his marrow. The crushing weight of the ram suddenly felt like a toy. The resistance of the mud vanished.
"What in the Seven...?" Karas gasped, his eyes wide. He didn't have time to ponder the miracle. "THE GODS ARE WITH US! PUSH! PUSH FOR THE MARQUIS!!"
The wooden wheels began to spin with a violent new energy. The battering ram, which had been crawling upward, suddenly accelerated, its speed doubling and then tripling.
The defenders on the wall watched in inexplicable horror. They tried to lift the heavy stones and logs they had prepared to drop, but their arms felt like lead. They could see the ram coming, could see the terrifying red glow emanating from the Northmen beneath the planks but they were powerless to stop it.
"What's wrong with me?!" a Turner sergeant screamed, his voice sounding slow and distorted to his own ears. "Witchcraft! He's stealing our souls!" "The Warrior has abandoned us!"
Men who had been prepared to fight to the death fell to their knees, their hands interlocked in frantic, slow-motion prayer. They begged the Seven for a blessing that never came.
CRACK.
The first blow of the ram hit the gate with the force of a thunderbolt. The iron hammers punched a hole clean through the oak planks. The ram swung back on its ropes, seemingly defying gravity as the magically-enhanced guards pulled it into its second arc.
BANG.
The oak held, but the stone doorpost groaned.
CRUNCH.
On the third strike, the left doorpost snapped like a dry twig. The massive half of the gate, deprived of its anchor, collapsed inward with a dull, echoing thud.
"KILL!!" Karas Snow roared, drawing his battle-axe.
He leaped over the shattered timber and into the courtyard of Unicorn Fortress, his movements a blur of red-tinted speed. The two dozen elites followed him like a pack of starving wolves.
Simultaneously, Lando reached the top of the scaling ladders on the eastern wall. He had a cleaver clenched between his teeth, expecting a shower of oil and a forest of spears. Instead, he jumped onto the battlements to find a row of knights kneeling in the dirt, their lips moving in silent, terrified prayer.
Lando didn't hesitate. He was a soldier of the North, and he had his orders. A stout knight in chainmail tried to draw a greatsword, his bloodshot eyes full of a frantic, slow defiance. Lando stepped inside his reach, his short knife kissing the man's throat before the greatsword had even cleared the scabbard.
"Despicable... infidel..." the knight gurgled as he fell, his blood painting the stone a dark, hot crimson.
The Second Guards Corps poured onto the walls, using their superior numbers and the enemy's lethality to seize every tower. Within the city, the sound of the First Guards' axes was a rhythmic, wet thudding.
Karas Snow looked at a Buck captain he had just split from shoulder to hip. He stared at his own hands, his face glowing with a wild, terrifying joy. He knew now that the "Wizard-Lord" wasn't just a commander, he was a godling.
Eddard walked up the narrow path, sheathing Heartbreaker. The battle had lasted exactly ten minutes. The "Triple Alliance" that had planned to hold out for months had been dismantled before the sun could move an inch across the sky.
He reached the battered ram, where Rand Buck was still tied, his eyes wide and vacant from the shock of the magic he had witnessed.
"Good luck, Rand," Eddard said softly.
"No..." Rand whispered, his gaze flickering from the bloody courtyard to the young man before him. "It wasn't luck. It was you. You... you really are the Winter King's sorcerer."
Rand had heard the rumors. He had mocked the tales of lightning and "Wizard-Lords." But he had seen the grey veil. He had seen the red fire in the eyes of the Karstark men. He realized now that fighting Eddard Karstark wasn't a war, it was a suicide note.
"My Lord," Rand said, his voice cracking as he slumped against the ropes. "I wish to pledge my soul to you. Not as a lord, not as a rebel. As a squire. Let me carry your shield until my blood runs dry. I beg you... don't let my house end in this mud."
Eddard looked at the boy. He saw the shift in the System's display.
[Unit: Rand Buck.]
[Loyalty: Fearful -> Reverent.]
[Status: Broken Soul.]
[Offer: Absolute Vassalage.]
Eddard turned to Karas, who was wiping blood from his axe. "Cut him down, Karas. He's the new Lord of Unicorn Fortress. Tell him to start cleaning up his castle. We have a feast to attend."
The Sun of Winter had risen over the Crossing, and for the first time, the Riverlands felt the true bite of the frost.
[System Notification: Unicorn Fortress captured.]
[Triple Alliance neutralized.]
[Soul Power Gained: 300 SP.]
[Reputation with Riverlords: The Iron Hand (Feared).]
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