Madness or Daring

299 AC, Westerlands

The night settled over the camp, shrouding it in darkness. The exhaustion from the battle still lingered in Rody's limbs, but duty called once again. Robb had summoned an emergency war council, and the commanders were to gather in the middle of the night. It was a testament to the gravity of the situation.

Jon approached Rody, his eyes reflecting the weariness they both shared. "Rody, Robb wants all the commanders present. We need to make our way to the commander's tent."

Rody nodded, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the battle. As they walked through the camp, they couldn't help but notice the rare moment of peace that enveloped the surroundings. The hushed voices of the soldiers, the flickering glow of campfires, and the stillness that settled over the tents all spoke of a hard-fought victory and a brief respite from the turmoil of war.

"I never thought we'd be fighting a war like this," Rody said, breaking the silence between them. "Remember when we were kids in Wintertown? We used to play in the streets, oblivious to the weight of the world."

Jon smiled softly, a reminiscent glimmer in his eyes. "I do remember those days, Rody. It feels like a lifetime ago."

Rody chuckled. "Aye, you were always the quiet one. But your actions speak louder than words, Jon. You've become a formidable warrior and leader."

As they approached the commander's tent, Rody couldn't help but wonder about Jon's future. "So, what do you plan to do after this war, Jon? Once we've reclaimed what's rightfully ours."

Jon paused for a moment, his gaze focused on the path ahead. "I've been thinking about that, Rody. There's so much that needs rebuilding, I want to ensure the peace we achieve lasts longer and it is not in vain."

Rody nodded, understanding the weight of Jon's words. Their conversation was cut short as they entered the commander's tent, greeted by the assembled nobles of both Riverlands and the North. The room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and weariness, the battles etched upon the faces of those present.

Robb stood at the head of the table, his eyes scanning the room, his gaze finally settling on Rody and Jon as they took their places.

Robb's demeanor had changed since the last time Rody saw him. There was a coldness in his eyes, a sense of urgency that hung in the air. As Rody took his seat, he noticed a map sprawled across the table, with small figurines representing the Stark and Lannister forces.

Without preamble, Robb slammed a small parchment onto the table, causing the commanders to shift their attention. His voice carried a hint of frustration and determination as he began to speak.

"I received a missive an hour ago," Robb announced, his voice cutting through the silence. "It came from my father, King Eddard Stark. He marched towards Harrenhal with the rest of our army, and there, they clashed with the Lannister host."

A murmur of concern spread through the room, everyone leaning in closer to hear Robb's words.

"Both sides suffered heavy casualties," Robb continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "My father ordered us to secure the border and hold our position, but I do not intend to do so."

The room fell silent, the weight of Robb's words settling heavily upon them. Rody could sense the tension in the air, the uncertainty mingling with a sense of anticipation.

"I say we strike while the iron is hot," Robb declared, his voice filled with conviction. "We will invade the Westerlands, cut off their supply lines, and seize their castles."

Jon pointed to various Westerlander castles on the map, outlining potential targets that could be secured without incurring heavy losses. Rody couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope at the possibilities presented.

Robb, however, fixed his gaze on a different point on the map. With a determined look, he pointed towards Casterly Rock, the ancestral seat of House Lannister.

"No," Robb said firmly. "We will be going there."

The room erupted in a mix of surprise and murmurs. Casterly Rock was a formidable fortress, a symbol of Lannister power and wealth. To march upon it would be a bold move, one that carried great risk.

But Robb remained resolute, his eyes flashing with determination. "We have shown the Lannisters that House Stark cannot be defeated. Now, we will strike at the heart of their power. Casterly Rock will fall."

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Robb's words sinking in. Rody looked around at the assembled commanders, seeing the mixture of apprehension and determination mirrored in their eyes.

As the silence lingered, Lord Rickard Karstark, a seasoned commander known for his strategic insight, spoke up. "My prince, while I understand your desire to strike a decisive blow, attacking Casterly Rock is a perilous proposition. It has never been conquered, and its defenses are formidable. We risk losing many lives in a battle we may not win."

Lord Rickard's caution was met with agreement from several other lords, who voiced their concerns about the risks involved. They argued for a more cautious approach, urging Robb to consolidate their gains and secure their position before attempting such a daring assault.

But amidst the cautious voices, there were also young nobles, eager for glory and hungry for vengeance, who supported Robb's decision. They saw the opportunity to strike a blow that would shake the foundations of the Lannister name.

Robb listened to the arguments and counterarguments, his expression unwavering. Rody, sitting at the table, remained silent. He shared the reservations of Lord Rickard and the other cautious voices, knowing the immense challenge that lay ahead. However, it was not his place to question the decision of the king's son.

Finally, after hours of debate and deliberation, Robb raised his hand to silence the room. His voice, firm and determined, cut through the tension-filled air.

"I hear your concerns, and I appreciate the wisdom and experience of Lord Rickard and others who advise caution," Robb began. "But we must remember our purpose in this war. It is not merely to win battles, but to ensure our independence and prove that the Lannisters are not invincible."

He pointed to Casterly Rock on the map. "By securing the ancestral seat of the Lannisters, we strike a blow that reverberates throughout the realm. It is a symbol of their power and wealth, and by taking it, we show the world that they are nothing against the might of the North."

Robb's words resonated with some of the hesitant lords, while others remained skeptical. Nevertheless, his conviction and the fire in his eyes began to sway the opinions in the room.

"Convene with the first light," Robb declared. "We will discuss the specifics of how to take Casterly Rock, strategize, and prepare our forces. It won't be easy, but with the courage and skill of each one of you, we can achieve what seems impossible."

The room erupted in a mixture of agreement, uncertainty, and determination. The path ahead was treacherous, but Robb's leadership and unwavering resolve inspired confidence in many.

Rody, despite his reservations, prepared himself for the challenges that lay ahead. As they left the war council, he exchanged glances with Jon, the weight of their shared understanding hanging between them.

The night was far from over, and the camp remained awake with preparations for the upcoming campaign. Rody knew that their journey to Casterly Rock would test their mettle and push them to their limits.

With the first light of dawn, they would convene once again, ready to face the daunting task that awaited them. The fate of House Stark and the future of the Seven Kingdoms hung in the balance, as the North prepared to march towards the seemingly impenetrable fortress of Casterly Rock.

Rody did not know whether this decision will pull them into the madness or into a daring success.