The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

The bitter cold wind smacked the kings in the face as they marched at the head of their weary armies. The Red King's cruel stretch of rugged hills and frost-covered plains were finally behind them. For two days they had pushed through with no sign of pursuit. Royce and Connell had chosen not to follow.

Harmond turned to Brandon. "Brandon," he began, scratching the back of his head. "Look I owe you an apology."

Brandon turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

Harmond shifted uncomfortably, his massive frame looking meek. "I said things during the war I was rude, I doubted your methods. I see now that I was wrong. You saved me and your men even though you could have left like Edwyn. I get to see my children once again."

Brandon smiled faintly. "Harmond, there's no need for that. I know who you are. I have no ill will toward you. You have a good friend and that is all the reason I need."

The Frost King nodded in agreement. "Don't worry so much Harmond. We fight, we bled, an everyday occurrence."

Harmond let out a deep breath, his face softening. "Just know that no matter what, on my word you will always have the loyalty of Umbar lands, and my family. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, we will stand with you."

The Frost King slapped Brandon on the shoulder. "And the same goes for the Frost lands."

Brandon smiled brightly. "No need to be so dramatic you softies, you could have just said we were friends."

The pair laughed before Harmond stepped forward and wrapped Brandon in a massive bear hug, lifting him slightly off the ground. "You're a stubborn bastard, Brandon," he said with a hearty laugh, "but you've got a good heart."

Brandon laughed as the breath left his lungs and he wheezed instead.

/

Each king returned to his lands, people, and families. Their armies, battered and bloodied, returned home with little to show for it.

Brandon took one last look back into the hills, where the Red King's lands disappeared into the distance. Royce and Connell would not follow them further—beyond their borders lay risks they could not afford. They gained victory and prestige from this battle, and they could not afford to lose that from a surprise attack.

The kings parted ways, their banners fluttering in the cold wind as they marched toward their respective homes.

/

The palisade of Winterfell approached ahead, their weathered wood a familiar sight that made Brandon's heart beat faster in excitement. The journey home had been grating and the want to just be home was heavy for every man. But as the first flakes of fresh snow began to fall, he was finally home.

Alys was the first to rush toward him, after seeing his rugged and worn appearance. "Brandon!" she cried, nearly picking up surprising even him as she wrapped him in a fierce hug.

"Your ravens came back so early," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

Elinor quickly joined them hugging the both of them. "And then we heard nothing back from you."

"I know," Brandon interrupted gently, placing a hand on their heads and ruffling their hair. "I'm sorry. The war went terribly but I'm here now." He said as he smiled.

Alys stepped back, crossing her arms and putting on a happy smile, though her eyes glistened with tears. "Aye, welcome back home, we missed you."

Brandon chuckled softly before looking down and seeing in Elinor's cloak which was pulled tight against the cold, was their child nestled in her arms. His face was rosy, and when their eyes met, he garbled before wriggling around.

"I'm back," he murmured, "Did you miss me Harlon.".

He reaches out toward him with his little chubby hands. Brandon's expression softened as he reached for the child, cradling the small bundle against his chest.

"I missed you," he said to both of them, his voice rough.

/ Version 2.0

The season turned slowly, and winters continued, looking like it wouldn't slow down in the slightest. The sun rose and fell again and again lighting up the same snow fields and hungry people. With low foods large-scale wars continued to draw back and instead be replaced by the fierce and intense battle of Kings men against one another.

In the absence of large-scale battles, skirmishers and raiders continued to become the primary tools of warfare. Bands of Kings guards prowled the borders of rival territories. These skirmishes were quick and brutal, fought over anything deemed worthy with food always at the top.

The Blackwood King was particularly active, using Brandon's absence during the war to push into his lands. Before turning westward and targeting Greenwood and Glover lands, stripping small villages and outlying farms of their food. As the larger settlements proved too well-defended with their new palisades and watchtowers filled with militia now guarding many communities, his men turned their attention to isolated farmsteads, taking the few crops and stealing livestock.

Again, the people and villages responded to the rising threats, more and more villages fortified themselves, and practically any village with a large enough population built palisades and had militia. However, when one door opens another closes as the rural farms, homesteads, and small villages become targets. Their inhabitants unable to afford the time or resources needed for proper defences were either left out to die or fled to safer lands.

/

The Northern kings adapted to the changing nature of war, shifting from large-scale campaigns to lower-numbered and a fast-moving battle.

Amid this chaos, the Ironborn continued their assault on the North's coasts. Their longships, though fewer in number than during their initial strikes, still brought chaos wherever they landed. From villages along the Bay of Ice to the Stony Shore, the cries of the raids filled the skies as wives watched from raider shoulders as their husbands were cut down.

It was the Ryder King who found more out about them after having defeated another one of their raids and was kind enough to share the news with every King.

The Ironborn, it seemed, had expanded their raiding further south. "From the Trident to the land of Rock," the man muttered. The Ironborn were spreading operations and looked to not be leaving any time soon.

/

As the seasons dragged on and the wars of attrition continued, the kings of the North began to adapt their strategies of quick small combat. Raiding with small bands of elite King's Guard had been effective but unsustainable. These men were the pride of their Kings, finely trained, heavily armoured, and well-fed even in times of scarcity. However, the cost of continuously deploying such valuable soldiers took its toll on the kingdoms.

The kings began to realize that the relentless demands of war required a different approach. Thus, the concept of Household Guards was born.

Household Guards were a tier of warriors that fell between the elite King's Guard and the ordinary levy. They were not as finely trained as the King's Guard, nor as well-equipped, but they were leagues above the hastily conscripted peasants that made up the bulk of a kingdom's military force. These guards were drawn from anyone who sought glory and an extra supply of food for training in their evenings when they could.

Clad in only lighter bronze chest plates and leather helmets bearing short swords and shields the Household Guards were designed for flexibility and speed. They could do simple jobs around the King's village and participate in raids without the same crippling expense associated with deploying the King's Guard. Some trained more than others for extra food and some felt it was an honour to serve their King.

Household Guards became the raiding cornerstone of the North's conflict, once one King had household guards and the effectiveness of them became evident in their speed and usability, another King joined, often the one that was raided. This led to another and another until every King used it. It all started with Royce even though he probably did not mean to.