Hers Is The Fury

Battle Responses

[Outside Oxcross]

Thunder rumbled through the darkness. It was raining at the gold cloak encampment. Two gold cloaks were arguing over who was the best fighter.

"It's got to be the Mountain. He's the biggest. He's the strongest." The first man said.

"Bulls are bigger than lions. Doesn't mean I'd pick a bull in a fight." The other replied.

"If the bull had fangs and claws, I would. Right, the Mountain or our man Jaime."

"If he ever gets out."

"Loras Tyrell?"

"Loras Tyrell. He's prettier than the Queen."

"I don't care about pretty. He's better with a sword than any of them."

"How good could he be? He's been stabbing Renly Baratheon for years, and Renly ain't dead."

They laughed, and a horse neighed nervously.

"The horses seem a little spooked to you? They're horses."

"They get spooked by their own shadows."

"Shh. Do you hear that?"

"No." The first man replied.

"There's something out there."

The soldiers both stood to investigate the darkness. They moved forward cautiously, until the second man lets out a loud fart. The first jumped, and his companion laughed raucously.

"Oh. Oh, you're a right little prick. You should see your face."

"I swear you pissed yourself. "Oh, who goes there? Ahh!"

"There is something out there."

"Yeah, don't even try me."

"Rennick." The first man called.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Rennick!"

The first guard drew his sword. A direwolf leapt from the darkness and attacked Rennick, who screamed as he came face to face with King Robb Stark.

Robb and his Northern men sat quietly on their horses, listening as a pack of wolves descended upon the Lannister men.

"King in the North!" One man chanted.

"The King in the North!" The others chorused in reply.

[The Battlefield, The Next Morning]

The Northern forces had completed their assault on the encampment. The field was scattered with bodies and wounded men in the mist. Horses neighed and soldiers cried out in pain.

Lord Roose Bolton and Robb walked through the aftermath, followed by a handful of Northern soldiers.

"Five Lannisters dead for every one of ours. They're dead. Take everything they've got. We've nowhere to keep all these prisoners. Barely enough food to feed our own." Roose told him.

"We're not executing prisoners, Lord Bolton."

"Of course, Your Grace. The officers will be useful. Some of them may be privy to Tywin Lannister's plans."

"I doubt it."

"Well, we'll learn soon enough. In my family, we say, "A naked man has few secrets. "A flayed man none.""

"My father outlawed flaying in the North."

"We're not in the North."

"We're not torturing them."