GOT: House Redwyne

The sun had barely crested the horizon when the first scouts returned with news that sent a chill through the ranks of House Redwyne. The Gold Bank's forces were on the move—mercenaries, hardened soldiers, and hired swords, all marching under the banner of the bank, their pockets lined with the promise of gold. It was clear that the time for subterfuge had ended; the Gold Bank was bringing the fight directly to Paxter Redwyne's doorstep.

In the courtyard of the Arbor's keep, the atmosphere was thick with tension as soldiers prepared for the inevitable clash. Armor clinked as it was strapped on, swords were sharpened, and banners were unfurled, bearing the sigil of House Redwyne—a grapevine on a field of burgundy. The men and women who served under Paxter were loyal, but even they could not hide the anxiety in their eyes. The Gold Bank was a powerful enemy, and the battle ahead would be one of the most significant in the history of the Arbor.

Paxter stood at the forefront, his expression grim as he watched his people prepare for war. He had always known this day would come—the day when the shadows he had embraced would be put to the ultimate test. The power that now flowed through him, a gift from the Shadowbinder, was both a blessing and a curse, and he knew that to protect his house and his people, he would have to wield it without hesitation.

Ser Martyn Harte, clad in full armor, approached, his face set in a determined scowl. "The men are ready, my lord," he reported. "We've positioned archers along the walls, and our forces are spread out to cover all possible points of attack. But make no mistake—the Gold Bank is bringing everything they've got."

Paxter nodded, his gaze drifting toward the horizon where the first signs of the enemy's approach could be seen—a dark line of troops moving steadily closer. "We'll hold our ground, Martyn. We've faced tough battles before, and we've come out stronger. This will be no different."

Lady Mina joined them, her eyes fierce with determination. She was not dressed for battle, but her presence was as commanding as any soldier's. "I've ensured that the women and children are safely secured within the keep," she said. "We're ready for whatever comes."

Paxter turned to her, gratitude mingling with the weight of responsibility he felt. "Thank you, Mina. Your strength gives me strength."

She gave him a tight smile, but there was no fear in her eyes—only resolve. "We're in this together, Paxter. Whatever happens, we'll face it as one."

As the enemy forces drew nearer, the tension in the air grew palpable. The soldiers of House Redwyne stood at attention, their eyes locked on the approaching army. The banners of the Gold Bank fluttered in the breeze, a stark contrast to the burgundy of the Redwyne standard. This was not just a battle for survival; it was a battle for the future of the Reach, for the legacy of House Redwyne.

Paxter took a deep breath, feeling the shadows stir within him, eager for release. He had been cautious in using this power, knowing that it came with a cost. But now, as the battle loomed, he knew that he could no longer hold back. The time had come to embrace the darkness fully, to use it to protect his people and ensure their victory.

"Martyn," Paxter said, his voice calm but firm, "take command of the main force. I'll lead a contingent to flank the enemy from the east. We'll catch them off guard and force them into a position where they have no choice but to fight on our terms."

Ser Martyn nodded, his respect for his lord clear in his eyes. "As you command, my lord. We'll make them regret ever setting foot on the Arbor."

With that, Martyn turned to rally the troops, barking orders as the men and women of House Redwyne prepared for battle. Paxter watched him go, his mind already calculating the moves he would need to make. This was a game of strategy, of deception and brute force, and Paxter intended to win.

Lady Mina touched his arm, drawing his attention. "Be careful, Paxter. The Gold Bank won't fight fair—they'll use every trick in the book."

"I know," Paxter replied, his voice softening for her. "But we have tricks of our own."

He placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. "Stay safe, Mina. I'll come back to you."

She nodded, her eyes shining with emotion. "You'd better."

With a final, lingering look, Paxter turned and mounted his horse, the animal shifting beneath him with nervous energy. He rode to the head of the flanking force he would lead, the soldiers looking to him for guidance and strength. Paxter felt the weight of their expectations, but he was ready. The shadows within him whispered, promising power, and he knew he would need every ounce of it.

The signal was given, and the forces of House Redwyne moved out, the sound of hooves thundering across the ground as they made their way toward the eastern flank. Paxter kept his eyes on the horizon, his mind focused on the task ahead. The Gold Bank's forces were formidable, but Paxter had a plan—a plan that relied not just on strength, but on the element of surprise.

As they neared the enemy's position, Paxter raised his hand, signaling the force to halt. They had the advantage of higher ground, and from this vantage point, Paxter could see the full extent of the Gold Bank's army. It was an impressive sight—rows upon rows of soldiers, their armor gleaming in the morning light, their banners flying high.

But Paxter was not intimidated. He had seen what the Gold Bank was capable of, and he knew their weaknesses. They were overconfident, accustomed to using their wealth to buy loyalty and power. But loyalty bought with gold was fragile, and power built on fear could crumble when faced with true resolve.

"Archers," Paxter called out, his voice carrying over the ranks. "Prepare to fire."

The archers of House Redwyne nocked their arrows, their bows drawn back as they awaited the order. Paxter could see the enemy commander, a man clad in black and gold armor, directing his forces below. The man had no idea what was about to hit him.

"Loose!" Paxter shouted, and the sky was filled with a hail of arrows, darkening the sun as they descended upon the Gold Bank's forces.

The effect was immediate—cries of alarm and pain rose from the enemy ranks as arrows found their marks. The Gold Bank's soldiers scrambled to raise their shields, but the suddenness of the attack had caught them off guard.

"Charge!" Paxter commanded, and his forces surged forward, the ground trembling beneath the hooves of their horses as they descended upon the disorganized enemy.

Paxter led the charge, his sword flashing in the sunlight as he cut through the first line of the enemy's defenses. The shadows within him surged, and for a moment, it felt as though time slowed. He could see every movement, every opening, and he struck with precision, his blade finding its mark with deadly accuracy.

The Gold Bank's forces tried to regroup, but Paxter's flanking maneuver had thrown them into disarray. The archers continued to rain down arrows from above, while the cavalry charged through their ranks, cutting down anyone who stood in their way.

Paxter's heart pounded in his chest, the thrill of battle coursing through his veins. This was what he had been preparing for—this moment, this test of strength and strategy. The shadows whispered in his ear, urging him on, and Paxter knew that he could not afford to hesitate.

As he cut down another enemy soldier, Paxter caught sight of the enemy commander, his armor shining like a beacon in the midst of the chaos. The man was rallying his troops, trying to restore order, but Paxter knew that if he could take out the commander, the rest of the enemy force would crumble.

Without hesitation, Paxter urged his horse forward, cutting a path through the enemy ranks as he made his way toward the commander. The man saw him coming and drew his sword, stepping forward to meet the challenge.

Their swords clashed, the sound ringing out above the din of battle. The enemy commander was skilled, his movements swift and precise, but Paxter had the advantage of the shadows. He could feel the power within him, guiding his strikes, making him faster, stronger.

With a final, decisive blow, Paxter's sword found its mark, piercing through the commander's armor. The man's eyes widened in shock as he fell to the ground, his sword slipping from his grasp.

The Gold Bank's forces hesitated, their morale shattered as they saw their leader fall. Paxter seized the moment, raising his sword high as he shouted, "Victory for House Redwyne!"

The cry was taken up by his soldiers, their voices ringing out in triumph as the enemy began to retreat. The battle was turning in their favor, the Gold Bank's forces crumbling under the weight of their defeat.

But Paxter knew that the fight was not over. The Gold Bank was a powerful enemy, and they would not give up so easily. He would need to press the advantage, to ensure that their victory was complete.

"Pursue them!" Paxter ordered, his voice filled with determination. "Don't let them regroup!"

The forces of House Redwyne surged forward once more, chasing down the fleeing enemy. Paxter led the charge, his