The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

Brandon's force thundered their boots heavily against the icy ground. The air grew colder and richer as they neared the forest edges where the Umbar King's party was last spotted. As they entered the forest, the 'battle' unfolded before them. A field littered with bodies, men and monsters alike, as the last of Umbar's soldiers fought a desperate struggle, ringed by a horde of every possible monster of the North.

Brandon didn't hesitate. Even with his ribs throbbing, he raised his sword. "Onward! For battle." he bellowed, his voice cutting through the clamour before him. His warriors surged with spirit and charged forward. Halvar and the wargs led the way, their beasts sprinting ahead, tearing into the monsters with their master's fury.

The rear of the horde, surprised by the sudden assault, was thrown into disarray. Brandon's men cut into the swarming monsters, their swords flashing in the late evening light. But the creatures fought didn't roll over and back viciously. Brandon slashed through a ghoul lunging for his throat, sidestepped a massive wolf, and plunged his blade into a dire wolf's heart.

To his right, the grizzled Hakon locked in combat with a ghoul, its fur thick and lush, eyes hollow with blank-eyed wonder. Hakon swung his axe down in a brutal arc, slicing across the creature's chest, but it barely slowed down. The ghoul slashed out with clawed hands, catching Hakon's shield and nearly ripping it from his grasp. With a final shout, Hakon twisted his axe away and then upward, cleaving through the creature's neck, severing its head, and sending it tumbling into the snow.

Not far from him, a group of men stood shoulder-to-shoulder against a werewolf. The beast loomed above them, thick with muscle, its eyes blazing amber. It leaped forward, swiping its claws in a wide arc. The men staggered back, but one swung his sword into its flank, drawing a snarl of rage. Another plunged his spear into its side, and together they pressed the attack, circling it with swords and spears. The werewolf howled, trying to dodge, but with a series of sharp blows, they took it down, its body collapsing in a pool of crimson on the frozen earth.

Nearby, two men found themselves face-to-face with a dire wolf, its fur thick and mottled with freckles ice, its fangs bared. The first man jabbed at it with his spear, keeping its snapping jaws at bay, while his companion swung in from the side, his sword biting deep into the wolf's side. The beast yelped and staggered, blood staining its white fur, but before it could recover, the men moved in, finishing it swiftly.

On the other tree side, a group of younger soldiers confronted an Isdråk. Its scales glittered like shards of frost before its body coiled around them with terrifying speed. One man tried to break free, slashing at its body, but the snake struck, fangs injecting what felt like ice straight into the body. Another man thrust his spear toward its head, but it slipped past, too quick to hit. The dying giving up home, gave his final wish and managed to stab it through the head, and the snake's coils loosened, its body falling lifelessly to the ground along with the man.

From the trees a cluster of ice spiders skittered down, their spindly legs leaving sharp indents in the bark. Men froze with fear, as the spiders swarmed. Their silvery bodies glistened before the ground seemed to crackle beneath them as they approached. One brave soldier swung his sword, cleaving the nearest spider legs in two, but another was already upon him, its pincers tearing into his arm. He screamed, kicking it off, while his comrades fought frantically to drive them back. The spiders' numbers thinned only after several were struck down by arrows from the slingers stationed at the back of the force, their cold, spindly bodies twitching as they lay still.

Across the battlefield, Brandon and his men fought with all they had, each struggle a small victory, each step a hard-won ground in a seemingly endless sea of monsters. The battle raged on, pushing ever onwards, until finally, Brandon spotted the Umbar King, nearly encircled by the advancing monsters, his shield splintered, and his men reduced to a few desperate fighters holding their ground. Brandon rallied his men with a roar. "Push through! For Harmond!"

With a renewed surge, they hacked their way closer. Lyanna fought beside Edric, striking down any creature that came near them, they worked in perfect sync, as Brandon shouted orders to the mercenaries and urged them to hold the rear line as they pressed forward. Bit by bit, they clawed their way through the mass of monsters, leaving a bloody path in their wake.

Finally, they broke through the dense cluster and reached the Umbar King, who was ringing out a ghoul with his bare hands, raising it above his body, choking the life from it. Its tongue writhing out its mouth as its eyes bulged.

Around him his men fought against beasts with wild ferocity, their wargs of wolves and even a few hulking bears snarled as they held the line. The Umbar King's crimson banner rose above them, though it was streaked with mud and blood, the fabric torn from the fierce fighting.

Over the cacophony of battle, Brandon spotted the giants of the battle: two trolls, their massive, twisted forms towering over the melee. The trolls moved in clumsy graceful sync, swinging thick clubs made of knotted branches, sending soldiers flying. One troll roared, baring its teeth in fury as it lumbered toward the Umbar King's guard, the second troll quick to follow the lead of the other. The ground trembled with each step, the heavy thud of its footfalls echoing shaking the trees around them, making them shed their leaves.

As Brandon's group forced their way closer, the trolls pressed on, each swipe of their monstrous clubs landing with bone-crushing force. One of the Umbar King's guards—a warg bound to a massive gray bear—charged at the nearest troll, his bear rearing up and raking its claws across the troll's thick, leathery skin. The troll bellowed, catching the bear, but the other came to its aid, swinging its club down, sending men and beasts tumbling away.

Brandon and his party finally broke through the lines of beats, and without hesitation, they threw themselves towards the trolls. Swords clashed with massive limbs; dire wolves snapped at the troll's ankles, their teeth struggling to find purchase in the troll's thick skin. Brandon could see the strain etched on the Umbar King's face as he barked orders, commanding his kings' guards to circle the trolls, trying to divide their attention.

Then, with a surge of strength and desperation, two of the bear wargs lunged together at one of the trolls. Their claws scraped over its massive face, one bear managing to dig a claw into its eye. The troll let out a pained, guttural cry, staggering backward. Blood dripped down its face, staining its rough skin with dark streaks. Its brother troll laughed at him before seeing the blood and laughing harder. The wounded troll smashed its fist into the ground sending a wave of dirt into the air blocking everyone from seeing it. With a final, lumbering swing step, it turned and stumbled away, its hulking companion following in its retreat.

The battlefield grew quiet, the surviving men lowering their weapons, many of them falling with them.