Georgina waddled back to the northern gate of the Twins, and one of the guards audibly sighed. “That fat piece of shite is back.” One of the guardsmen muttered to the other. “I’m not surprised…” came the reply. Amidst her blubbering below, the portcullis began to be raised. Stevron Frey, the Grey Knight, paced along the walls when he heard the wailing from below. “That fat piece of shite is back?” He questioned the guard. The guardsman stifled a laugh. “Yes, my Lord.” He replied as stoically as he could. “What’s the matter with you all? Watch theing field! Thousands of Valesman traitors could come screaming down at any moment!”
“But my Lord, we saw them march away…” Stevron walked hastily up to the man and slapped his helmet. “And so you know for a fact they’re gone then? Idiot.” Away and off in the far tower, lute music could be heard. Stevron sighed.
Walder, Edwyn, and Lothar were gathered along with their knightly vassals in the far tower. “The levy is fully assembled then?” Walder asked. All in the room nodded. “Very well then.” Walder strummed a few more notes, the final one off pitch. Many in the room winced, some applauded sycophantically. Walder stood and smashed the lute against the stone floor in a fit of rage. “Theing Vale bastards, the traitors, have my son!” He railed.
“…and your wife, my lord.” Added Ser Haigh
Walder remained gloomy. “That fatwould have eaten our supplies in a siege anyway.” He replied. Suddenly he heard some recognizable wails from far off. “Seven help us…” After several moments of silence, Walder rose. “You all have your orders.” He commented. “See them executed.” The men in the room either bowed or headed down the stairs.
Frey Forces






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