The morning mist blanketed the muddy swamps of Moat Cailin, the crucial pass between the North and the lands of the Trident. Atop the hill overlooking the encampment, the banners of House Hornwood fluttered, their colors gleaming under the faint light of dawn.
Halys Hornwood, only 23 years old, walked with steady steps among his officers, observing how his troops deployed in precise formation. The assembled army was formidable:
1,500 heavy infantry, armed with reinforced rectangular shields, steel spears, and swords, formed the solid core of the infantry.
Beside them, 3,000 medium infantry covered the secondary lines, clad in lighter armor and wielding spears.
In the heights, strategically positioned, 1,500 longbowmen prepared their bows to open the battle.
The cavalry, the army's mobile force, was divided into:
1,100 heavy riders, clad in full steel armor, armed with lances and longswords, ready to charge with brutal force.
900 medium riders, equipped with partial armor, reinforced lances, and kite shields, prepared to maneuver swiftly and protect the flanks.
500 light riders, experts in skirmishes and reconnaissance, ideal for harassing and scouting the enemy.
The crossbowmen, a vital contingent for ranged defense, remained at Hornwood Hall to guard the fortresses of House Hornwood alongside Halys's siblings, Robert and Donelle.
The air was thick with tension and anticipation. Halys paused, watching the arrival of officers bearing the banners of allied houses. In the distance, young Eddard Stark appeared with his own retinue, bearing the weight of responsibility as the new Lord of the North.
Halys stepped forward to greet him.
"Lord Stark," he said with firm respect. "Your presence honors me. Together, our forces shall be the wall that defends the North."
Eddard nodded solemnly.
"The time has come, Halys. We can wait no longer. The South calls us to war, and we must answer."
The sound of war drums began to rise, and the troops chanted the traditional songs of the North—solemn and stirring. Spears gleamed under the rising sun as banners flew high.
Halys turned his gaze toward his army, fully aware of the weight of the coming battle.
"For our land, our families, and the honor of the North. We march, and let our roar be heard all the way to the Trident!"
A roar of approval rippled through the ranks. Moat Cailin bore witness to the formation of a strong and determined army that would soon move toward a war that would shape the fate of the realm.
Council of the Northern Lords
In the great hall of Moat Cailin, beneath ancient oak beams, the lords and captains of the major Northern houses gathered to coordinate the army's deployment in answer to Eddard Stark's call.
The total army now numbered nearly 28,000 souls ready for war, drawn from the most powerful houses and their bannermen:
House Stark of Winterfell, under the direct command of Eddard Stark, provided the main force and leadership.
House Umber, with its robust infantry and fearsome reputation in battle.
House Hornwood, commanded by Halys, brought 8,500 men including heavy and medium infantry, archers, and a diverse cavalry.
House Manderly, known for its naval strength and well-trained troops.
House Bolton, with its infamous reputation and disciplined forces.
House Dustin, contributing a significant force from the western North.
House Ryswell, defenders of the lowlands with a swift contingent.
House Stark of Seagard, under young Benjen Stark, reinforcing the coastal borders.
House Mormont, fierce warriors from Bear Island, expert in hand-to-hand combat.
The Mountain Clans, mercenaries and elite warriors.
House Clover, providing supplies and troops that complemented the land forces.
House Flint of Flint's Finger and Flint of Widow's Watch, two important branches with skilled riders and archers.
House Reed, masters of guerrilla warfare and guardians of the swamps.
Each house brought its banner and introduced its captains, aligning in formation under the command of Lord Stark and his lieutenants.
Halys observed the deployment, knowing that unity among these houses was crucial to facing the threat the South posed.
"This Northern army," Halys said to his officers, "is not strong only in numbers, but in honor and loyalty. United, we are the wall that will protect our land."
The night before the march, final preparations were made. The camps glowed with firelight, and the wind carried the echo of ancient war songs.
The North was rising, ready for a war that would determine the fate of Westeros.