THE NORTHERN CRUSADE

THE CITY OF KINGS

300 AC

CROWNLANDS

KING'S LANDING

ROBB STARK

He smelled King's Landing, before he saw it. Even from a few kilometers ahead, he can perfectly smell the stench of shit and piss, emitting from the city.

King's Landing was really huge. As far as eyes could see, the city that Aegon the Conqueror founded three hundred years ago stretched out majestically. The well-built walls and gates and within the enclosure highlighted the towers of the Sept Of Baelor and The Red Keep.

The only thing that didn't impress Robb was the sanitation problem and the deep stench of the city. It is said, that out of all the Kings that ruled the city, both Targaryen and Baratheon, only Baelor The Blessed had ever tried to improve the drainage problems of the city.

But nevertheless Robb smiled in both excitement and bloodlust. He had finally arrived, though a year late, at the City Of Kings.

Before The Battle Of God's Eye, Robb had an army of over fifty thousand men. He had lost five thousand in the battle, with another one thousand were wounded or crippled. He had furthur left four thousand men to guard the prisoners at Harrenhal, and also to protect his rear and deter any posible guerilla attacks on his supply lines.

So with all that, he had at least forty thousand men camped outside the huge walls of King's Landing. More than enough to take the city by force if necessary.

To tell the truth, what Robb wanted most was to raze this city to the ground, to turn it into a pile of ashes, that would serve as a funeral tribute to, not only to his father, but to all the Starks, who had all been vilely murdered here.

This is the city where his father had  been unjustly executed, where his  grandfather Rickard had been burnt alive, where his uncle Brandon was strangled to death. And for many nights since the Battle Of God's Eye, Robb had only dreamed of destroying this city, and massacre it's half a million population.

No doubt his army was hungry for more blood. And the people of King's Landing will do a fine job to vent all their pent up frustation.

But he was Robb Stark, a man known for giving the enemy a chance to surrender. So he will also offer this city a chance to surrender, and if they don't. Then they will suffer the same fate as the Westerlands.

A few days ago, he had received a raven from King's Landing. The letter delivered to him say, that the Iron Throne, will recognise his Kingship and the Independence of The North and The Riverlands.

He and his lords had openly laughed at the ludicrous offer. Did they take him for a fool?

Did they really think they will accept peace after a year of War? And most importantly now that they had all but won!!

His army had The Westerlands and The Reach firmly under his control. The lords of The Crownlands, The Stormlands and The Narrow Sea had bent their knees to him.

The Northern Navy had destroyed or captured, what is left of the Royal and Redwyne fleet and are now bloackading Blackwater Bay, preventing the city from receiving supplies.

The noose had tightened on his enemy's necks, and if they thought that Robb will listen to their pleas and not hang them, then they thought wrong.