Version 2.0
Under the noonday sun, Brandon's army arrived on the vast open field not far from the still marching Amber King army. The landscape, devoid of significant natural barriers, provided a straightforward battleground for the confrontation that loomed ahead. The Northmen set up their camp, banners fluttering in the breeze as they staked their claim on the ground.
As the tents were raised and the soldiers prepared for what lay ahead, the scouts remained vigilant. Reports soon reached Brandon that a flag, bearing the sigil of the Amber King, was approaching their camp. A messenger delivered a message that the Amber King sought a talk before the battle.
Brandon saw no reason not to and accepted the invitation. He called upon Theon, to accompany him along with a select group of his King's men. On the neutral ground between the two encampments, they converged. The Amber King, flanked by his retinue, awaited Brandon's arrival as a cool easterly wind breezed by fluttering the blades of grass in a wave pattern.
/
"Took you long enough, Brandon Stark," he spat out, articulating the beginning and ending of Brandon Stark. "I can see your little play. If you think endearing yourself to the lower common folk will allow you to win, then you are a fool. You won't win this war, even if you use these underhanded tactics."
"I did not do it to endear myself to them; I do it because I care, which it seems you have lost," Brandon stated.
"Like I give a shit. I thought you would be a much greater man from what I remember, but it seems you have lost your worth, Stark boy."
Brandon narrows his eyes at him, "That's rich coming from you. But in the end, we shall see who is right and wrong, Alden."
"Convenient how everything is in your favour, caught me after a previous war before I could fully recuperate. Worried that you are not, Brandon."
"No, Alden, I am just seeing opportunities in front of me, and that you have failed to counter. Besides you had plenty of days to recuperate, if you can't do it in that time then you are not fit to be King."
Alden grinds his teeth. "Is that so, Stark? I'm more king than you will ever be, I am better than you in every way, peasant boy. You'll see! I challenge you to a duel tomorrow and first light."
Brandon smiles. "Alright Alden, the first to lose their weapon is the loser."
"See you at first light then, Stark. Don't be a disappointment," Alden said as he walked back to his camp.
"My king, was that so wise? We have more men than him; we can beat them in an open battle," Theon questioned.
"If I am to lose here, then it just means that I am still not as good as I need to be to achieve my goals, Theon. Have confidence, and trust in me."
"Right, my King," Theon says with his creased brows.
/
The sun, just cresting the horizon, cast long shadows that stretched across the dew-kissed grass. Birds fluttered in the dawn chorus, oblivious to the impending confrontation below. Brandon's armour gleamed softly in the early light, and the sigil of House Stark displayed prominently on his chest plate.
On the other side, Alden, gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles when white. His armour, etched with the symbols of House Amber, reflected the emerging sunlight as bounced the light warm winds from the south.
As the first rays of sunlight spilled across the field, finally casting a glow over the combatants, they charged at one another. The clash of bronze echoed through the morning air as sword met sword in an intense dance of skill and strength. Brandon's agility and finesse were pitted against Alden's greater height and the advantage of his spindly arms and greater reach.
Their swords whirred through the air, parrying and striking with calculated precision. Brandon, with years of training and battle experience, moved with the grace of a seasoned warrior, his movements fluid and deliberate. Alden, on the other hand, utilized his height advantage, attempting to maintain a strategic distance and strike with the extended reach of his limbs.
They moved quickly kicking up the dirt and grass from the ground. The clash of their swords reverberated, as they pinged and scraped against one another, amour started to get scratched as the swords moved fast to strike one another.
As the battle unfolded, both leaders displayed their prowess with swords and shields. Brandon's quick footwork allowed him to evade Alden's sweeping strikes, countering with precise and calculated manoeuvres. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a spotlight on the duel as the two kings fought for their right to victory.
Finally, as the dance of blades intensified, Brandon, with a swift and calculated strike, managed to land a powerful blow that sent Alden's sword spiralling from his grasp.
As Alden's weapon clattered to the ground, the field fell into a momentary hush. The combatants locked eyes, as Brandon's army behind him bellowed it cheers and hooting over their king's victory.
"Fuck you Stark." Alden pressed on trying his best to bash Brandon with his shield.
Brandon's recovered quickly and then pressed into a relentless assault leaving little room for recovery. With each well-aimed strike, Brandon chipped away at Alden's defences.
Finally, with a forceful swing, Brandon delivered a finishing blow, sending Alden sprawling to the ground.
"You lose, Alden. This battle is over," Brandon declared, his breath misting as it flowed from the gap in his helmet. Some of Alden's men moved closer to help their king if needed.
"You dog, Brandon. This proves nothing," Alden retorted, lying on the ground and panting. "You are just some common upstart farmer boy."
"Last I checked, your family started much the same as mine just some generation earlier," Brandon said, staring into Alden's eyes.
"I won't hear such lies!" Alden shouted. "Our family is better than anything you could ever make. Send the signal." He gestured toward one of his men holding a flag with the Amber King's sigil.
The man, looking a bit put off, followed his king's command, waving the flag in a random pattern back and forth. Alden's army quickly starts to charge toward the field and towards Brandon's army. Alden finally got up from the ground before staring down Brandon.
"I will show you, Brandon. I will show you all," he declared, leading his men quickly back towards his awaiting army.
"My King!" exclaimed Theon. "We need to get back to our line. We won't be able to get through his men before their army reaches us. We need to get back to our line."
"A feeble-minded coward," Brandon muttered. "Get back to our line," he ordered his men as they initiated the retreat.
As Alden's army charged forward with fervour, Brandon retreated to his own before swiftly taking command of his forces, bellowing orders to form a defensive shield wall. The clash of bronze and the pounding of footsteps reverberated across the open field as the two armies closed in on each other.
Brandon, positioned at the forefront, rallied his men to brace for impact. The ground beneath them trembled as the opposing force drew near, their war cries echoing through the battlefield. The sunlight gleamed off the armour of the oncoming army, creating a dazzling yet menacing sight.
The shield wall quickly formed interlaying shields and spears. Brandon's voice carried over the chaos, followed quickly by his captains and commanders as the shield wall formed. The men tightened their formation, shields overlapping, creating an impenetrable barrier.
As the first wave of Alden's army crashed against the shield wall creaming an almighty bang, the clash of bronze and the shouts of men filled the air. The battle had begun in earnest, and Brandon's forces held firm against the charging onslaught.