The sun had just crested the peaks when horns rang across the high walls of the Eyrie. Men in armor, garrons packed with supplies, and carts loaded with rope, picks, and fresh water began their descent into the Vale. After months of preparations The war had begun.
Lord Redfort's forces, the vanguard, were the first to move out. With 400 men-at-arms, they pushed westward toward the Moonbrothers' stronghold. Behind them, Rodrik's engineers followed closely — young lads from Gulltown and Runestone, trained in measurements and stonecraft, carrying bundles of marked logs and iron nails. Their job: begin constructing the first temporary military road along the Black Pass.
Lady Waynwood's cavalry rode east, sweeping through the lesser trails to flush out scouts. Her men fought a brief skirmish on the second day — a group of Painted Dogs had set an ambush, but the knights routed them easily, sending three survivors back to the mountains with broken noses and a message: "We are coming."
Rodrik remained at Skyreach, a fortified camp built into the mountainside for coordination. With him were Yobert, Maester Alwyn, a handful of bannermen, and Ser Gwayne, a hardened knight of Vale, who had once served Lord Arryn in the wars of the Sisters.
After 8 months since the start of this expedition, word came — House Belmore's ballistae had successfully dislodged a cluster of Burned Men from their perch above the west cliff. Thirty enemies dead. Six Vale men wounded, one lost an eye.
Rodrik stood by the fire that evening, turning the scout's report over in his hand. "We've drawn blood," he murmured.
Yobert smiled grimly. "And they'll bleed more. But it won't be this easy forever."
They were right.
The campaign had moved swiftly — too swiftly for some. In the dark corners of the war camp, whispers began to stir. Lords like Grafton of Gulltown and Melcolm of Old Anchor, while publicly pledged, dragged their feet in providing reinforcements. In a closed tent, Rodrik confronted their envoys.
"You swore your swords," Rodrik said sharply.
Lord Grafton's envoy bowed stiffly. "We swore to defend the Vale, my lord, not to indulge in costly campaigns that may stretch thin our coffers."
Rodrik stepped forward, placing a marked ledger in front of them.
"You've earned more coin from trade in the last two years than the Vale did in the last twenty. I know your accounts because I built that trade. This is not indulgence. This is an investment in security."
They exchanged uneasy glances, but said nothing. Rodrik's eyes narrowed.
"If you do not reinforce within five days, I will assume your banners no longer fly for the Vale. And I will replace them."
They complied after this.
At years's end, they met their first major resistance near Stone Talon Ridge, where the Stone Crows held a narrow valley chokepoint. Rodrik had scouted the terrain days before and laid a trap. During this period he has massively trained in the art of fighting as he knew that at some point in the war he would need to get involved physically this war was started by him. He can't be seen turing from it when times gets harder.
He feigned a frontal assault with 100 men — then sent 60 of Lady Waynwood's best riders along a narrow goat path above the ridge. At his signal, they came crashing down from above, lances gleaming, and routed the Stone Crows completely. The path was won.
Rodrik stood on the bloodied ridge as the banners of House Royce were planted. Behind him, Yobert grinned through soot and steel. "That's one down."
Rodrik nodded. "Four to go."
In the Camp – That Night
Soldiers sang around fires. Casks of ale were opened in measured celebration. Rodrik sat with his commanders and quietly updated his campaign log. The mood was light, but his mind was heavy.
Yobert leaned back and finally asked, "How long do you think before the other clans unite?"
Rodrik tapped his pen. "They already are."
Yobert blinked. "What?"
Rodrik looked toward the distant mountains.
"The Stone Crows fought differently today. Their lines were tighter, their retreat more organized. They're preparing for something. They've stopped acting like scattered dogs and more like a pack."
A cold wind blew through the camp.