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*This takes place immediately following the Battle of Blackwater Bay Sandor Clegane stumbled through to the Kingswood, just now beginning to recover from his drunken stupor. His horribly burned face was covered in soot and ash from the battle, with droplets of blood freckling his cheeks. The battle had drained the man they called The Hound, the fire had been all around him. That damned dwarf, he thought, piss on his Wildfire and piss on his battle. Even if they won it would only be a matter of time before The Young Wolf starts the fighting all over again. He had enough of the Lannisters and their plans, the only plan was a sharp sword and a strong arm. He continued to stumble over roots and branches, when he heard a rattle coming from his belt. His tournament earnings were still in a small pouch tied about his waist. Good, he thought, something to get a bed and wine. Though in reality, The Hound seldom had to pay for such things. Almost wish some of the Imp's damnable mountain men would show up, he thought, relieve the boredom of stamping through these woo... "Awfully dark for a walk by yourself, eh?" Sandor wheeled around to see Bronn, clad in his dirty boiled leather and mail standing across the way from him. "Now what are you doing so far from the boy king's leash?" Bronn said with an indignant smile. "What are you doing so far from the Imp's?" Clegane spat back. Bronn chortled slightly. "You know," he said, "The penalty for deserting is death." The Hound laughed heartily at that, it sounded like a table being sawed in half. "And who's going to do that, you?" "I was planning to, yes," Bronn responded simply, Clegane laughed again. "Whatever the Imp's paying you, it isn't worth what I'm about to do to you, little man." "Aye, little I might be but that won't matter when you're dead. As for the payment, it's more than enough but I also didn't mind having to go after you." Bronn then drew his sword and got into a ready position, one hand on the dagger sheathed at his back. "I was hoping you would do something stupid like that," The Hound growled, drawing his own sword and charging towards Bronn. So Sandor is armed with his sword, Hound helm, shield and plate armor against Bronn with his sword and knives, boiled leather and mail and no shield. Who wins?

“It’s a good day for crows†Jaime Lannister rode atop his white charger, the morning sun reflecting off his plated armor. His banner, a fierce lion, blew in the morning wind. Today would be a day worthy of lore, thought Jaime, the day he threw down the false king Aragorn and took his rightful place as ruler of Middle–Earth. He looked at the motley assortment that made up his host prepare. The mountain men strapped on boiled leather while honing their axes to sharp edge while his knights rode by his side with their chain mail rattling under their armor. Jaime smiled as he looked about, victory was all but assured. He merely need make an example on the battlefield ~~~ Aragorn walked amongst his men, their eyes becoming lively as he passed. For those bold enough to match his stare he offered a quick nod before continuing on through his ranks. “Jaime Lannister.†The name alone made him grind his teeth. It had been nearly forty years since the fall of Moria, a time marked by peace among the realms of men but it was all lost when the blonde–haired bastard showed up. Denethor apparently had a third son, one sent away and kept secret, even from the likes of Gandalf. After hearing of Boromir’s death Denethor took no chances and had the boy sent away to train and learn. When the boy grew into a man he came forward to take the crown he deemed to be rightfully his. Leading an army of wild men from the mountains and those still loyal to Denethor, Jaime Lannister swiftly moved with arms towards Gondor. At first no one took him seriously, with naught but savages wielding clubs at his back. But his victory over Eomer at the Westfold quickly caught the attention of Middle–Earth’s leaders as his tactical prowess was put on full display. Shortly after, Aragorn honored his allegiance by immediately riding out o Gondor’s aid, with the a full host at his back. Word from his scouts confirmed that Jaime’s host had grown as his influence spread throughout Middle–Earth. Like dark tentacles binding weaker men and luring them to his side. However, Aragorn was sure he could turn the tide with this battle, one beating would surely send the boy packing. ~~~ Jaime watched as Aragorn’s army marched into the field, their silver armor matching the color of the tree on his banner. His host was larger than Jaime had anticipated, with the number being closer to seven thousand than the five thousand his advanced scouts had predicted. Jaime drew his sword and marched his army forward. He nodded at the commander of the cavalry, who lead his host out to the flank. Jaime hoped to crash against Aragorn’s first host and cripple him quickly. ~~~ Aragorn watched as Jaime’s army appeared, a ragtag group that nonetheless had significant strength in numbers. He watched as Jaime’s cavalry disappeared into the woods to the east. Aragorn smiled, the boy had a taste for tactics but was relying too heavily on trying to overpower his opponent quickly. Aragorn was not going to bullied. He ushered his army forward. ~~~ The tow sides were still for a moment, then rushed with the sudden intensity of a cheetah. The armies met with a ferocious impact. Spears disintegrated against shields while men hurtled into each other, sending veracious vibrations throughout the field. For awhile the lines held against each other, with no side gaining an advantage before Jaime signaled for his cavalry. They cut through a portion of Aragorn’s men before meeting a section that resembled a porcupine made of spears and shields. The horse’s cries overpowered everything else as they were impaled against the wall of men. Jaime cursed as he watched, the battle would rage much longer than he thought. ~~~ Jaime was not one to wait during battle and upon seeing his cavalry cut down, he charged into the battlefield. His prowess as a swordsman was legendary and he lived up to the billing. No man could trade more than two blows with him before being cut down and his men took heart, marching forward as their commander lead on. ~~~ Aragorn watched as Jaime Lannister cut his way to the front lines of battle, he had known this moment would come and yet he could scarcely believe how gifted the boy was with a sword. A pity, he thought, that he hadn’t been there at the Battle of Helm’s Deep. His sword would have been useful that day. Aragorn then charged out, racing through his ranks to the front lines, cutting down the Lannister host as he went. The mountain men were ferocious but undisciplined and fell to a superior swordsman. Soon Aragorn found himself facing Jaime, while the armies seemed to clear a space for them. “Now, you will yield to the true king!†roared Jaime. Aragorn didn’t respond other than to raise his sword. He had faced greater evil to become king and he wasn’t going to let an usurper challenge him now.

Eddard Stark was riding through the Wolfswood on his return from a diplomatic mission, concerning the increase in attacks from the Ironborn of Pyke , from Deepwood Motte. He was armed with his Greatsword Ice along with a dagger and a shirt of chainmail and boiled leather and followed by a retinue of 6 guards to ensure his trip remained secretive to ensure the Greyjoy’s spies did not receive information on his movements. Suddenly a volley of arrows landed amony the guards killing four and injuring two, Eddard wheeled his horse around drawing Ice in time to see the two injured guards killed by wildings armed with long knives and 6 bowmen already reloading. Knowing one man armed with a sword can not fight 6 bowmen Eddard turned his horse and galloped towards Winterfell, knowing he must warn them of this Wilding raid. Riding in the Wolfswood is dangerous and his horse stumbled and fell breaking a leg but Eddard managed to leap clear landing unharmed. After assessing the horse he realised it could not continue and gave it the gift of mercy. Denethor the steward of Gondor has grown paranoid in his old age seeing enemies everywhere and had grown to suspect that Rohan was planning on an assault on Gondor , therefore he sent his sons into the forest to scout for riders and evidence of the impending assault, Boromir had become separated from his group after dispatching a small band or Orcs , also uninjured from his fight, Boromir was armed for speed and stealth with his longsword and round shield, as well as a chainmail vest and leather jerkin to protect him , he came upon Eddard Stark trekking towards Winterfell and after seeing no sign of the White tree of Gondor on his believed him to be a spy , after circling Eddard to get behind him he drew his sword to attack but snapped a large stick alerting Eddard to his prescence , who drew Ice and turned to face his attacker. “A man who sneaks through the woods to slay a man from behind has no honour†proclaimed Eddard accusingly Boromir stung by this insult equipped his left arm with his shield and moved into the clearing to attack. First attempt at one of these hope you enjoy , so who would win in the battle of Sean Bean’s fantasy characters.