This Chapter takes place right before the Battle and subsequent siege of Riverrun .
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299 AC
MOAT CAILIN
Moat Cailin, the ancient stronghold of the First Men that have guarded the North, since the Age of Dawn.
After the death of Berron Stark, during the Andal war 6000 years ago, the castle lacked a proper lord who can govern the boggy lands of the neck and because of it the stronghold began to decline and by the time of Aegon's landing in Westeros it was nothing more than a crumbling ruin, with only three towers remaining standing in place where once there was twenty.
That was until the time of Cregan Stark, as it was him who laid the foundation of repairing the ancient stronghold to it's former glory.
Cregan will not live to see it though as even with best builders and best Stone masons, it took more than 60 years to repair the castle, as the marshes of the neck made it extremely difficult for the builders to repair the castle.
Now Moat Cailin sports forty towers, instead of twenty, and now it can defend against attackers from both South and the North.
"You are over thinking, again!!" The voice of his cousin snapped Robb out of his thoughts.
He composed himself before glaring at a smirking Wulfric, who was riding beside him on a grey stallion.
He cursed himself for asking his cousin to join him in the front of his marching army. His father had taught him that he should always know the men who are fighting for him. And as such, each day he invited a different Lord to ride with him in the front.
And today, it was Wulfric's turn to march with him.
He shook his head before looking at the ancient fortress of the First Men and even from afar he could see a host camped just outside the castle's Northern Gate.
"Looks like our uncle was really busy!!" Wulfric muttered seeing the camp.
As they reached near the castle, a horn suddenly blasted from the battlements, signalling their arrival and the gates of the castle opened up for him to enter.
"Wulfric, tell our men to make camp and inform the Lords to be prepared for a war council!!" Robb ordered causing his cousin to nod, before racing back to the army to relay his orders.
Robb rode through the gates and into the castle where two men were waiting for him inside.
He dismounted his horse, giving it to the nearest stable boy, before racing towards the two individuals.
"Uncle Ben, Lord Reed" He greeted with a smile.
"Robb" Benjen Whitestark greeted his nephew, giving him a manly hug.
"Lord Stark" Howland Reed greeted him with a small bow which Robb returned.
"Damn Robb that's quite an army you have gathered" Benjen praised his nephew about the army he had brought with him.
"You like it, more than 30,000 men from all corners of the North ready to fight for their Liege Lord" Robb boosted.
"How did you managed to gather so many in a single month" Howland voiced "Your father could manage to gather only 18,000 during the rebellion"
Robb and Benjen's smile died at the mention of Ned, still wrongly imprisoned in the dungeons of the Red Keep.
Robb shook away his sadness and said "After I got the message saying that my father was injured during his fight with the Kingslayer, I sent ravens to all the lords, telling them to prepare their men incase of any conflict!!" he explained to Reed how he gathered so many men.
CZYTASZ
THE NORTHERN CRUSADE
AkcjaThe North has always endured. They had survived the Long Night, they had resisted the might of the Andals. The North had also toppled the Targaryens who have ruled over them for 250 years. With the arrest of Lord Eddard Stark, the banners of Winter...
