Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Stannis Baratheon's army moved like a tired old man. After linking up with the Riverlands forces they now numbered over ten thousand, but most were foot soldiers. The march north was painfully slow.

Tony Stark changed that in one afternoon.

He led a work party into the woods and came back with dozens of strange wooden contraptions — "wooden oxen and flowing horses," he called them. Some kind of ancient engineering trick he'd read about in old books. Within hours the army's speed doubled. They covered a hundred miles in a single day.

The Neck was waiting for them.

Swamps stretched for miles. Poisonous snakes, crocodiles, and worse lurked in the dark water. Every night more soldiers vanished. They left only their armor and weapons behind.

"Another three gone," a scout reported. "No bodies. Just empty gear."

Stannis stared at the map, jaw tight. "How do we get through this cursed place without losing half our men?"

Davos cleared his throat. "We can't afford to fight every wildling band we see. We need to keep moving."

Tony grinned. "Wildlings aren't the real problem. We push through fast. But we clear out any real threats on the way. No point leaving enemies behind us."

Before Stannis could answer, a guard announced a visitor.

"Howland Reed of the Neck requests an audience."

Stannis raised an eyebrow. "The crannogman? Let him in."

Howland Reed stepped into the tent, small and unassuming in his green mottled cloak. He dropped to one knee.

"Lord Stannis. I swear my loyalty to King Robert and Lord Eddard. But my people are dying. Wildlings have risen in the Neck. They've named their own king and are overrunning our villages. We sent most of our fighters to Winterfell. We're defenseless."

Stannis frowned. "You want my army to stop and fight your war?"

"We're desperate, my lord. The wildlings move through the swamps like ghosts. Without help we'll be wiped out before winter ends."

Tony was about to speak when the tent flap burst open.

A tall knight in white and gold armor stormed in, hand on his sword. Dawn's pale blade gleamed even in the dim light.

"Where is Howland Reed?" Ser Asor Dayne snarled. "I'll kill him where he stands!"

Davos moved fast, stepping between them. "Ser Asor, this is Lord Stannis's command tent. You draw steel here and you're committing treason."

Asor dropped to one knee, breathing hard. "Forgive me, my lord. But that man murdered my uncle. Arthur Dayne died at the Tower of Joy because of him."

Howland had already ducked behind the table.

Tony spoke calmly. "Ser Asor. What if I told you Howland's children were taken by the same wildlings? Help us clear the Neck and bring his children back alive. Then maybe he'll agree to face you honorably."

Asor's eyes burned. "You swear it?"

Stannis nodded once. "If Reed's children are returned, he will meet you blade to blade. You have my word."

Asor stood slowly, still glaring at the spot where Howland hid.

"Then I'll lead the vanguard. We burn every wildling camp between here and Greywater Watch."

He turned and stormed out.

Tony looked at Stannis and gave a small, satisfied smile.

"Problem solved."