THE NORTHERN CRUSADE

FURTHER PLANNING

300 AC

RIVERLANDS

RIVERRUN

ROBB STARK

The funeral ceremony was held at the docks, where Hoster Tully had been placed in a boat filled with dry tinder and oils. He was dressed in silver mail with a blue and red tabard bearing the leaping trout of his House on his chest. Finally, his body had been covered with a Tully banner with his longsword placed on his chest and a shield placed at his feet.

He, along with his great-uncle Ser Brynden Tully, pushed the boat into the current of the river and stepped back onto the dock, where his uncle Edmure stood waiting with a longbow and a flaming arrow. When the boat was far enough down the river, Edmure notched the flaming arrow.

Robb doubted, that his uncle can aim for the boat properly, he was in no condition to do so. Edmure still has lines of grief fresh on his face and he really felt sorry for his uncle. He had heard that his uncle had spent the last few days drinking and grieving for his father's death.

When the boat was far enough down the river, Edmure aimed and fired, which unsurprisingly he missed.

The new lord of Riverrun quickly grabbed another arrow and lit it, aiming once more. He fired, this time sending the flaming arrow sailing well past the vessel. The crowd that had assembled to watch the funeral began to shift restlessly as the boat began to drift towards a bend in the river, soon to be hidden from their sight.

Edmure tried a third time, sending the flaming arrow high into the sky. It too missed the mark, splashing into the river just short of the boat.

Ser Brynden stepped forward and grabbed the bow from his nephew's hand
"Let me do it" he said softly.

Edmure, even through his half drunken state, protested "No...... he is....is..... my father....I....I...should be the one......to it" he slurred like a grieving drunk.

Brynden shook his head "You are in no state to do it" he said calmly pointing at his sorry state "It's okay nephew, we all know that you are grieving, no one will thought less of you if I do it".

Edmure reluctantly nodded before handing the bow to his uncle and stepped back to where Robb was standing.

The Blackfish, grabbed the bow from his nephew's hand and dragged an arrow from the sheath on his back.

As his great-uncle lit the arrow, he glanced up at the pennant that was flapping in the wind, noting the wind. When the arrow was lit, the Blackfish drew and fired in one fluid movement, not even watching as the arrow came arcing down onto the boat, setting it aflame.

His mother standing beside him let out a sob and Robb bowed his head in respect.

"Well now that's over" he thought, watching as the flame consumed the boat, " It's Time for a war council".

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Robb didn't pay any mind to all the lords who were all arguing with each other over the next course of action. Even after spending a year fighting side by side, their is still little animosity between rival Houses. Most noticeable being, House Bracken and Blackwood and House Umber and Glover.