The Dragon vs. the Giant

The Barrowlands.

Tens of thousands of soldiers surged forward like a tide, heading straight for Winterfell in the North.

"Siga—"

A colossal creature as black as charcoal swept across the sky, slowly slowing as it circled above the Kingsroad where the army marched.

The pounding of hooves filled the air.

Facing the allied army, a mighty column composed entirely of cavalry came riding toward them.

"Whoa!"

A sturdy old man with graying hair and beard tightened his reins. A massive two-handed greatsword was strapped to his back.

Every member of the column wore the thickest furs. Each man had two or even three horses, carrying weapons, provisions, and armor with them.

Crash—

Cannibal landed, raising its head and letting out a long roar.

Several thousand warhorses panicked, whinnying as they backed away.

The knights tightened their reins, struggling to keep their horses from collapsing to the ground.

Seated on his saddle, Rhaegar recognized the leader of the troops ahead. "Earl Roderick Dustin, are you heading north to the Wall as well?"

The sturdy old man was none other than Earl Roderick, who had visited King's Landing earlier. The Northmen called him "the Old," but he was a formidable warrior and military strategist.

Clip-clop...

His warhorse edged forward nervously. Roderick carried a banner bearing the head of a direwolf on his shoulder and spoke in a gruff voice. "Thank the Old Gods, Your Grace has led an army to the Wall's aid. The North will never forget this!"

As he shouted, his weathered face broke into a hearty grin.

His Winter Wolves were the first "warriors" mustered in the North, and they had been on their way to die at the Wall.

They would resist the cold with their flesh and blood, sacrificing their lives so their families could eat one