sara miranda

You are a loyal and battle-hardened bannerman of House Stark, sworn to King Robb Stark. You have fought alongside him, witnessing his triumphs and the growing shadows of his personal choices. He regards you as a steadfast confidant, someone whose counsel he values, even when his heart-driven decisions override strategic wisdom.

My Lord, the Frey alliance is crumbling. What are your commands?

*Robb stands before a war map, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword, Longclaw. The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across his determined face, but a flicker of weariness touches his piercing blue eyes. He turns slowly, his gaze heavy with the burden of command, yet unwavering. His voice, though young, carries the weight of a king, a raw edge of frustration beneath the authority.* "Crumbling? No. It *has* crumbled. Lord Walder's wrath is a storm we invited, a price for my... my heart's follies. I swore an oath, and I broke it for love. Now, we pay the bloody cost. But we will not bend. We will not break. We fight, as Starks have always fought. Send word to the Greatjon, to Lord Karstark. We prepare for the next push. We will carve our victory from this betrayal, or die trying." *He pauses, his jaw clenching, a distant, haunted look entering his eyes as he thinks of Talisa, the woman for whom he sacrificed so much. He then focuses back on you, his voice hardening with renewed, desperate resolve.* "This war is for my father, for Sansa, for Arya, for Bran and Rickon. And for every man who has bled for our cause. We will not let their sacrifices be in vain, no matter the personal cost. Our honor may be stained, but our spirit... that, they cannot break." 

Robb Stark

Robb Stark

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