SOW FAR SO GOOD : CHILLED STEEL AND WARM FORTUNES

I am Bezedash and welcome once more into my GoT world.

PRELUDE

Our alliance, MisFits, had already tasted bitter defeats in SoW. Not One... but Two.

Was defeat written in blood on the snow of Winterfell? I, Bezedash, knight-minstrel of the numbered worlds of GoT, was turning this question over and over in my mind.

Those words haunted me... echoes from battles that had slipped through our hands, painted in crimson letters on the snow in my nightmares. Even as i tried to shake off the specters of defeat, i knew fate might once again be etched in red across Winterfell's frozen ground. 

On this icy November morning, i awoke with a start, my pulse quickening to the cry of a voice below my window.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” called the young crier, his breath misting in the frigid air. “The MisFits’ next match is announced! The gold of Winterfell will be our warm fortune...or our frozen defeat... against the forces of Written in Blood!”

SOW FAR SO GOOD : CHILLED STEEL AND WARM FORTUNES

The fourth match of the Siege of Winterfell had come. The icy wind bit at any exposed skin, and the ground beneath seemed determined to unsteady our steps. Winter’s chill settled over the battlefield like a shroud, and silence hung heavy before the storm.

 As i, Bezedash the knight-minstrel, looked out over the field, reality sank in. Winter was here... and so was Written in Blood.

 Our MisFits alliance was far from the strongest that day : 45 dear comrades agains 56 fiends. I’d heard of WIB... a fierce name with numbers that dwarfed ours almost twofold.

But it wasn’t just their numbers; they had a drive that few could match. And today, the gold of Winterfell was at stake, a prize that could tip the scales. 

“Ready for another snow-kissed dance with death, Bezedash?” henomaus, my closest friend, asked with a crooked grin.

“A minstrel’s life is half spent courting death,” i replied, adjusting my reins as WIB’s banners loomed on the horizon.

“But let’s see if we can live to sing about it.”

Our forces split quickly. LadySam, my wife and steadfast leader, joined eyaka, the storyteller of our tales, to defend the Hot Springs, a haven for healing our wounded. I rode with henomaus and the cavalry toward the Armory. 

As we approached, WIB’s cavalry arrived in force. Wave after wave crashed against us, a relentless tide of swords and warhorses. The air filled with the clash of steel and the cries of effort as blades met armor. Beside me, henomaus deflected a strike with his shield, his face set with fierce determination.

"Hold the line!" i shouted, my voice hoarse but steady as my heart pounded in my chest.

In the heat of battle, our unity proved formidable. Each MisFit fought as though possessed, our skills weaving together as seamlessly as verses in a song. After an exhausting clash, our banners rose above the Armory. I exhaled deeply, surveying the icy ground littered with the remnants of battle.

Meanwhile, on the eastern flank, LadySam and Eyaka were holding strong at the Hot Springs. Though outnumbered, they stood their ground with unwavering resolve. Every blow they dealt, every inch they gained, felt like defiance—against WIB, against the cold, against the odds.

Then came the word: Winterfell’s gold had appeared. This treasure would turn the tide of the siege, surging our points and giving us the upper hand. Determination surged within me.

“henomaus, i’m riding for Winterfell!” i called, urgency sharpening my voice.

With a nod, he spurred his horse, replying,

“Bezedash, go fast. I’ll keep the Armory safe.”

"LadySam, eyaka," i called through our alliance chat, "the gold’s in our sight. We need cover if WIB makes a rush."

“Lead the way, Bezedash,” came LadySam’s calm yet charged voice. “We’ll hold them here. Just bring us that fortune.”

I raced across the battlefield, hooves pounding through snow and slush. Each gust of icy wind reminded me of the stakes. As i approached Winterfell, i saw WIB forces advancing from the south. They’d seen us and quickened their pace, but we were closer. I reached out, seizing the gold and lifting it high, feeling a surge of triumph.

“Got it!” i announced, raising the treasure for all MisFits to see, and a cheer went up. For a brief second, warmth cut through the chill, and a grin spread across my face.

But WIB wasn’t done. They descended on us, determined to reclaim the prize. Henomaus held the Armory with eyaka while LadySam covered our retreat, rallying our fighters. Arrows, spears, and swords flew, bowstrings cutting through the air as i tightened my grip on the gold, glancing back at my comrades’ fierce determination.

“Go, Bezedash!” eyaka called, deflecting an arrow with his shield.

“Don’t let them near our stronghold!”

I rode fast, my horse boosted by the maesters’ research in their tower. 

Every MFs fought as though bound by an unbreakable oath, driving back WIB’s forces one strike at a time. We moved as one, each shield guarding another, each strike met with unwavering defense. Each yard we gained transformed the weight of the gold from a burden to a rallying cry... a beacon for our alliance. 

At last, i reached our fortified base and secured the treasure under vigilant watch. WIB launched a final, desperate assault, but our defenses held strong. As the minutes ticked by, our points climbed steadily, solidifying our victory. When the gold reappeared, i seized it again, bolstering our lead further.

As the sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the snow, the end of the battle was clear. We had claimed victory... not through strength alone, but through unity, through the iron will of our bond.

EPILOGUE

 Later, amidst the stillness of the aftermath, i turned to henomaus, LadySam, and eyaka, a grin spreading across my face. Pulling out my lute, i strummed a triumphant tune that echoed across the battlefield... a melody of victory tempered by all we had endured.

 “You really can’t resist, can you?” LadySam asked, shaking her head with a chuckle.

“Not when we’re victorious,” i replied, laughter in my voice.

“And certainly not when we’re family.”

Together, we sang into the night, our voices rising like a beacon over the snow-covered plains. It wasn’t just a victory, it was proof that even amid the chill of winter, MisFits could forge steel and ice into warm fortunes.

♩¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸Volume: ▁ ▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ █ 100%

"Raise your cups, my friends, to Winterfell’s chill,

To the clash of steel and our iron will !

For frost may bite and battles wear,

But bonds like ours withstand despair.

From gold's warm glow to the snowbound fight,

We conquered the day; we lit the night.

So let the wine flow, let our spirits rise,

For together we stand where the brave defy."

♩¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸Volume: █ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂ ▁ 0%

To be continued....

I will see you soon for some more thrilling adventures.

Thank you for reading

→_→