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Thread: Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

  1. #1
    StealthFox's Avatar Consensus Achieved
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    Default Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

    Here are the submissions for the final round of voting. Please vote for your favorite one.

    Also, please bear in mind that anonymity is still required here. Authors of any works below may not declare what submission may be theirs, or in any other way ruin the anonymity of theirs or another member's submission. Those found to be doing so here or anywhere else will be punished with extreme prejudice by the resident knights and rightly so.

    The thread is for discussion of the articles at hand and voting, NOTHING ELSE.


    ROME - Entry #1
    - ROME -
    - ROME -

    I
    I pulled the toga overhead,
    to form a cowl and mark the dead,
    With water jugs attendants stood,
    to wash away the sacred blood.
    Eyes awide, with bated breath,
    crowds they stood and many felt,
    ancestors gaze upon their lives,
    as round the temple rang my voice;
    Procul, o procul este profani.


    The beast was led with nonchalance,
    with slack upon the rope,
    adorned with ceremonial sash,
    under the eyes of the gods.
    Stood restless before an altar,
    with wine poured on its head,
    The contractor did not falter,
    he stuck the beast down dead.
    One blow from a great hammer,
    relieved the crowd of dread.


    With instruments of copper,
    those attendants strode forth,
    they cut out the entrails,
    to place on a bronze bowl.
    The haruspex came forward,
    he took them in his hands,
    he offered up this sacrifice,
    then read divination.
    He cast his expert eye on,
    the liver and the blood,
    he shouted in a cry,
    that the omens were all good.




    II
    We stood in silence,
    breathing in the mist,
    we heard the tribal war-cries,
    we heard their druids hiss.
    The ground it shook as on they came,
    the thundered roars of men insane,
    There came the whistle, our pilum flew,
    they struck at once and skewered them through.
    But on behind came a great horde,
    led by a King, who drove them forward.
    They ran at us, we charged at them,
    their axes blocked, they were inflamed,
    as they swung from overhead,
    we pierced their sides and they fell dead.
    Back they fell and then they came,
    the day wore on, the battle same,
    until they made a bold mistake,
    their king he charged and then was dead.
    Confusion swept across the foe,
    the cries of war, now howls of woe,
    Towards the rivers, woods and bog,
    chased down by the fourth cohort.
    Another battle, another land,
    on this field the Romans stand.





    III
    The grain ships down in Portus,
    laden with their surplus,
    they wait along the quay,
    beneath the burning heat of day.
    Round merchants with fat purses,
    haggling through their curses,
    Agree to do a trade,
    take their goods and march away.
    In that salt smell of the sea,
    I dream one day I shall be free.


    Those crowded in the forum,
    stand about the stalls,
    they see the jewels,
    they smell the spice,
    those treasures of the world.
    Great heroes of the city,
    are held in an enthrall,
    in granite and in marble,
    and in those sketches on the wall.


    Here coins drip into empire,
    where old men step into the mire,
    with clients or the hidden blade,
    on fortunes path, they make their way,
    survivors of the cruellest game,
    survivors laden down with shame,
    in homes of incense and of slaves,
    they wind their creaking tortured way,
    towards their wealth, towards the grave.



    IV
    The senate of the people,
    full of weakness and of strife,
    full of withered purpled togas,
    spoke of blood upon the knife.
    Echoing through the shadows,
    speeches fell on deafened ears,
    dreams of temples and of marble,
    turned to nightmares then of wars.
    The power of their consuls,
    with greed within their eyes,
    was thrown into the world,
    on their lips they whispered lies.
    Bleeding through the taxes,
    to pay for rich-men’s fame,
    the people start to riot,
    the systems falls to flame.
    Out beyond the shadows,
    step the cloaks of Marian red,
    driving chaos from the city,
    driving senators from their beds.
    From the greed of foolish men,
    came the rule of their demise,
    as an Empire hove into view,
    and a Republic fell before their eyes.


  2. #2
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    Default Re: Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

    Shogun 2 Single Player: Using Trickery To Your Advantage On The Campaign Map and Battlefield - Entry #2

    Shogun 2 Single Player: Using Trickery To Your Advantage On The Campaign Map and Battlefield
    Are you in a tough situation? And you would rather not have to reload or scrap the campaign. Don’t rage quit just yet, perhaps there’s a way out.
    (most of these were tested at higher difficulty levels. So they should work the same at lower difficulties, perhaps even better)

    Campaign Map
    Are one or more AI armies going after your under defended province and you just need to buy 1 or 2 turn’s for your reinforcements to arrive or new recruits to bolster your forces? AI just landed a full stack in your under defended province and you need to buy some time?

    Unit minefield:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Separate and scatter your units around between their forces and your castle, preferably so your units zones of control (ZOC) makes contact with its neighbor but so your units aren’t in reinforcing range of each other(if space permits). The enemy will attack and you retreat, they’ll attack another unit and you retreat, etc. If you need another turn and if there’s enough room then reposition those units to stall again.

    I've scattered single units around the castle. The rebels attacked several units and I retreated them. Tokugawa is attempting to go around my units. Now I've repositioned my units to try and stall them again. This gave me one turn to recruit 2 more units.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The rebels stood there because my new units in the castle gave them pause. Tokugawa attacked several units and I retreated them. This second turn of stalling has allowed me to recruit 2 more units. Now I'm 4 units stronger then I was at the start which should be enough to now defeat the rebels and tokugawa.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    It's good that you take that province but why not make some money off of it's current owner first.

    Diplomatic Side Step:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can make more money from selling military access within a short period of time compared with if you actually controlled that one province yourself. Sell military access to your neighbor 5, then 10, then 20 turns then indefinite military access(you might wish to stop at 20 turns or as you wish). Get your forces in position to attack then declare war on their ally, usually they will join against you, negating the access you sold them. You can then move in to attack without incurring any diplomatic penalty with other clans.

    Here I've sold military access to saito then I declared on their ally kiso. Saito joined against me thereby negating the military access that I sold them.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can also do this by having your vassal next to them. In this case tokugawa is my vassal and saito has declared on them, thereby negating the military access that I sold them. This option involves less enemies for you but you can't tell when or if they'll decide to declare on your vassal.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    A few achievements can be easily obtained under the right conditions.

    Early campaign

    Summer Son:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The summer son achievement and associated trait is simple to get. Start an oda campaign and move your units inside the castle, queue 2 ashigaru units. On the summer turn attack tokugawa then the rebels then one of their leftovers and now you have the achievement and trait. autoresolve if you wish.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Late campaign

    Living for battle:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can recruit 9xp warrior monks and get the achievement if you have a province with a shrine. Fortified monastery, famous temple and bushido arts spear techs. You can also recruit 8xp bow warrior monks from this same province with an archery range.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Has the ally of your enemy just taken a province next to yours and now you fear they'll join against you.

    Turning your enemies ally into your ally and getting them to join your war:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    In this example tsutsui has just taken Ise. Tsutsui is allied with hattori who is my enemy. The chance of tsutsui declaring war on me would seem to be a given.....or is it?

    First I'll give tsutsui 20 turns of military access to break their alliance with hattori.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Next I'll make tsutsui my ally and have them join against hattori by offering them some incentives.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Sometimes your in position to take a province but your afraid the clan on the other side will attack if you do so. Why not let them assist you for a while.

    Long lasting help with your siege, helps to keep your allies loyal:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Is this situation Oda is on the other side of suruga. Although were allied I fear that Oda will turn on me if I destroy imagawa. They currently don't have any other enemies.

    I siege Imagawa then oda comes in to assist. I siege with only a general, generals don't suffer the effects of attrition. Oda's units are suffering from attrition every winter season, just in case they turn on me later they'll be weakened by attrition. Every turn I'll break the siege and immediately resiege imagawa.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Some years later and more of my allies have come to help...well hojo dropped me as an ally but their still helping with the siege. I finally decide to take suruga as my allies now have other wars that they can focus on.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    If there's a one province clan that you can vassal perhaps you can use that to help you eliminate another clan.

    Joining your new vassals war to eliminate a future problem:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    In the above situation instead of taking suruga and eliminating imagawa, I could of vassaled them instead. It could potentially be bad in that my ally oda might attack them but it also opens up an opportunity to eliminate hojo. Hojo was previously allied to me but they dropped me. However they continued to assist me in the suruga siege. Hojo might attack me from behind if I take suruga, so here's what I could of done in that situation.

    Here I've gone into diplomacy and vassaled imagawa. Since I'm not allied with hojo I can now join imagawa's war against hojo.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

    I still had military access from when I was allied with hojo so I moved in troops to eliminate them in one swift stroke as soon as I joined imagawa's war against them.(Keep in mind that as soon as imagawa is vassaled hojo's units will be teleported back to their territory at the closest point, so take that province first)
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Do you need a quick money boost and/or perhaps an ally or some other diplomatic treat.

    They really like warhorses:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can make a large sum of money by trading warhorses. It works best if you trade with them by sea. Once you have a province with a warhorse specialty or the warhorse trade node you can demand money from your potential trade partner. Shop around until you find a clan that will pay a large sum of money and perhaps give you the other diplomatic perks that your looking for.

    In this situation I felt it best to have an alliance with honma(although they have a tendency of not wanting to maintain agreements over the long term). This was an opportunity to make an alliance and get some money. Thanks to them valuing warhorses so highly.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    If you need money in the short term.

    Alternating taxes:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    If you need money in the short term, perhaps your in jeopardy of going bankrupt or perhaps you want to have more money to spend on province upgrades/units early in the campaign. You can go into your finance tab and raise taxes to very high then the next turn put them back on normal. It takes 2 turns for your provinces to rebel so using this method you can bring in very high taxes every other turn. Note: Doing this will destroy your town growth(Due to the tax level penalty and discontent) so it would be better to have lower taxes the longer the campaign goes on.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Can't handle assaulting that full stack in your enemies castle?

    Luring them out with one unit:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Perhaps you have less then a full stack and you don't think you can defeat the full stack that your enemy has in their castle or similar situation but you do think that you could hold if those roles were reversed(you defending the castle against them). You can place a single unit approximately at a distance of a full movement from your enemies castle(make sure their in the open, not hidden in ambush). They'll send their entire force out to attack your single unit and you retreat, then they won't have enough remaining movement to get back to the castle(they might be able to reach your unit a second time, if so then autoresolve). At this point you can take the castle while only facing their spawned garrison units, if you wish.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    luring them into an ambush
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Luring the shogunate troops is a little different. They have 2 stacks so you'll want your ninja to sabotage the stack outside the castle twice. Send one weakened unit. To do this with one unit you can't have access to Omi. Position the unit just slightly below the road and they'll send their castle units out, then retreat, then autoresolve. Sabotage the second stack again then take the castle. They'll have 11 spawned defense units in the castle.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Would you like to move an army a long distance?

    Army guaranteed overnight delivery, when shipping by sea:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Providing you have control of the seas, you can move an army however far you want via shipping chain. 0:00 to 1:20 http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x13...ide_videogames
    You don't like being at war with the ouchi and shoni as otomo?

    Otomo initial peace:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can go into diplomacy and make peace with shoni and/or ouchi. If you want to turtle or have an easier time of securing the trade nodes or perhaps attack sagara or other. The shoni have a tendency to drop you as an ally(at least on higher difficulties) but they might ally again if you ask right away.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    or
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Here comes the black ship but you only have a few ships in the area.

    Black Ship Containment:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    The black ship won't attack so you can pin it in place until your larger fleet arrives. Just make sure to leave no gaps so it can't get by the land and your ships zones of control. Don't keep it pinned in for to long or an AI fleet might come along and snatch it from you.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Land and immediately assault, it's quicker.

    Same turn land and assault:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    With some provinces you can do a naval invasion and assault in the same turn (sorry I can't remember all of them).

    Here I've launched my naval invasion from the buzen port by clicking on the suo castle. I landed and was able to assault in the same turn.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Taking their last province when they still have troops elsewhere.

    What remains:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    When you take a clans last province, any remaining units they have in other provinces disappear. With any units they still have in their last province, they get to keep one army which becomes rebel and the rest disappear. So if a clan only has one province left and their army is in another province, you can easily eliminate them without having to face that army.

    Here I'm about to take mino, takeda's last province. Once I do so their unit in south shinano will disappear.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    There's just to many haters as a Christian clan.

    More Christian friends:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can build a nanban trade port/quarter in a province then let it rebel. Another clan will take it, if their a small clan they'll convert. If there a larger clan they might not or it could just take a while.

    Here I've built a nanban port in mikawa then I let it rebel and Tokugawa took it.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Shortly after they converted, shortly after that they upgraded the nanban port to a nanban quarter
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Would you like to have more then one of that nice building.

    Multiple Nanban Ports/Quarters:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can build a nanban port/quarter in one province then let that province rebel. Once it rebels build one in another province then reclaim the first and now you have two(works with other buildings as well, buildings where your only supposed to be able to build one).

    Here I've built a nanban port in owari. As soon as the rebels take it, I'll build another in mikawa then later reclaim owari.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    So you want to attack an enemy by land but their on the other side of a neighboring neutral clan.

    5 gets you 10:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    If your diplomatic relations are decent with your neutral neighboring clan then you can trade them military access. Then you'll be able to move thru their territory to attack your enemy(make sure you trade enough access to get to them and I really don't trust them to honor the agreement past 5 turns, it varies).

    Here I want to move across urakami's territory to attack hatakeyama.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

    I've got my army in position at there border so now I'll trade access and move towards hatakeyama.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Are you a clan far from Kyushu and you don't want to wait a long time before you're allowed to turn Christian?

    Taking bungo province to convert quicker:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Bungo province starts with a nanban trade port. Take it and you can convert shortly after.

    I've started a Date campaign. I sent a naval invasion to take bungo(make sure you send enough troops).
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Shortly after I take bungo it allows me to convert to Christianity(caution doing this will usually put you at war with several clans in that area, depending on who controls it) after I convert I disband my units and let it rebel or let the previous owner reclaim it(you might need to hold bungo until you get the nanban trade message with the free matchlock unit, otherwise it might not let you build the nanban port/quarter but you can still convert).
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Is the AI army just outside the castle but you really want to deprive them of that province?

    Rushing The Castle:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    If you have a small force and the AI larger army is right next to their castle on the campaign map then you can rush the castle. If you win the enemy reinforcing army will retreat. If you have movement remaining, you'll then be able to leave the castle and go elsewhere....perhaps moving on to the next province or back into friendly territory.

    Here I've sieged urakami with their larger force in reinforcing range.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    I assault having my units run to climb the walls as the enemy reinforcements enter to try and stop me.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    I keep the defending samurai retainer busy while my units secure the gates and take the center, ending the battle once the timer runs out.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    So you want to turtle while having AI like bonuses(income wise)? You can sell military access to give you a money boost(example done on legendary difficulty, amounts may vary at other difficulty levels). *uesugi can sell more access then most clans due to bordering a number of provinces.

    Selling military access to speed up the start of your campaign:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    I've started an uesugi campaign and decided to sit and turtle. I'll sell military access and use that money to build up my infrastructure and recruit units.

    Turn 1 and 2-I'll start selling military access to murakami on turn 1 since they usually don't last long. I'll start selling to my other neighbors on turn 2.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Turn 3
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    and on it goes selling 5 then 10 then 20 turns of access
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    My per turn income is getting low. This area is pretty peaceful so I guess I'll go take sado.
    So you want to take provinces quickly with a small force? but you don't have enough troops to leave behind as a garrison to keep them from rebelling.

    Making vassals in provinces that have a high resistance to invaders:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Provinces you take have 2 levels of resistance to invaders(these pics are from legendary difficulty, resistance to invaders is lower at lower difficulty levels). You might be able to take the province and recruit a couple units to keep it from rebelling in provinces with the lower level of resistance to invaders but probably not at the higher level without leaving garrison units behind. Vassals count towards the victory conditions so if that clan is currently dead then you can bring them back as a vassal and continue on to the next province.

    So perhaps keep direct control of the provinces you take at the lower level of resistance to invaders and recruit units and build them up while vassaling the provinces you take with the higher level of resistance to invaders. Allowing you to continue your speedy offensive.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    So your close to that enemy army, unfortunately your out of movement. So hmm, how can you stop them from taking your castle?

    Trapping them in your zone of control:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can edge your way next to the AI army, locking both armies into each others zone of control. One of you has to attack the other to get free. As the player you can attack and press retreat to get free of their zone of control but the AI won't do that. So the AI has to attack you or they'll remain stuck there until you release them. You can also use the splitting units off to get a little closer to your next target.

    Highlight all your units except one then click to attack the enemy stack
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Do the same thing again and again until your right next to them
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    So you decided to loot that province and it rebels. Even after you defeat the rebels you still can't maintain public order and so it rebels 1 or 2 more times before you can get it under control. There's another way that might work if you want to avoid the battles.

    Army crawling:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You can move an army a very long distance in 1 turn providing you have 2 units or more in that group. Take one unit and separate it from the main group, moving that unit around until it's out of movement. Make sure that the unit ends up right next to the rest of your units. click on the units with movement then hover over the unit that doesn't have movement and Alt + right click to bring up the merge panel. Take the units with movement and combine them with the unit with no remaining movement. Then separate the unit with no movement and repeat the process until you reach your target. http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x13...ing_videogames


    Leaving the rebel general alive to keep the province from rebelling again until you get the public order under control:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Providing the rebels have a general in charge, you can destroy the rest of their force but let their general survive. Each turn that general will siege you, then you attack him and he'll retreat(you need to have at least a couple units for this to work). You can maintain this situation until public order is stable. *The main drawback to this is you can't recruit units or build in that province because it's continually under siege*

    Here the saito rebels have attacked mino and lost, saito dosan remains. He sieges then I attack him and he retreats, same thing the next turn and so on. For these screenshots I was using just a first level castle with some regular units inside. It's best if you have a castle with 2 or more garrison units, then you can move your regular forces elsewhere. That way the rebels will immediately siege your castle instead of damaging your infrastructure first.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Battle Map
    If your assaulting a stronghold, you can minimize the casualties inflicted by their towers.

    Hiding from their towers while still being able to fire on them:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Move your archers around to the left of your starting position and approach the castle from that corner(leave one or more units in the original start position to help keep their archer on that side. Stop near the wall leaving just a small amount of space and you'll be able to fire on most of the defenders from that position.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Certain castles can be taken easier. The larger they are the harder(easier) they fall.

    Blow up the wall and send them flying:
    Use their own tower to destroy them and win with minimal or no casualties:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    You'll see as I burn the gate, part of the wall catches on fire. This kills some of the enemy unit. The enemy unit must be pretty close to(or on) the wall for this to work. You can also destroy the wall with artillery, sending them flying.

    You'll also see that I capture their tower and use it to shoot them. You can kill a large portion of the enemy in this way. This is what I refer to as a type 2 stealth assault as you're able to use a small number of units to destroy a larger defending force(providing you have the patience for it). This is in north shinano at the fortress level. Note: not all towers can fire into the inner tier in this way but there are many that can and I didn't bring any archers, be sure to bring archers if you want a quicker battle. 1:20 to 3:18 http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x13...games&start=80
    So your attacking and you want to win with a minimum of casualties.

    Battfield luring when attacking:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    when your attacking you can pick off the enemy units one by one by using the appropriate unit to lure them. Try to stay clear of their archers and if possible don't knock out their archers early on, if you do there's a chance that they'll attack you, because you have ranged superiority. Here's some luring in the first Date battle against the rebels. 3:17 to 6:14 http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x13...ames&start=190


    You can distract some of their units while defending in a siege defense by sending a cavalry unit out to greet them.

    Cav lure in a castle defense:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Here I've sent a light cav to draw some enemies away from climbing the walls. While my archers and tower whittle away at them. 6:14 to 8:40 http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x13...ames&start=373
    Something you can do with matchlocks once the enemy units get up the wall.

    Keeping the enemy engaged while giving your matchlocks a clear shot:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Once the enemy units are up the wall you just need to keep them engaged with one of your melee units while your matchlocks deal the real damage to them. 8:40 to 10:52 http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x13...ames&start=520
    The AI is reinforcing you, well that's nice of them.

    Utilizing AI reinforcements:
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Sometimes another clan will also be at war with your enemy and they'll send some forces to help you against them. You could thank them for their assistance. 10:52 to 13:22 http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x13...ames&start=651
    Some of these were brought to my attention by posts from other forum members and some I came up with on my own. All have been recently tested to make sure that they still work as of Aug 2013. You can decide for yourself whether these are tricks or strategy/tactics and from that determine if you want to use them or not, it's up to you.

  3. #3
    StealthFox's Avatar Consensus Achieved
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    Default Re: Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

    The Siege of Pyke - Entry #3

    Spoiler for Disclaimer
    I do not own the rights to the world, or most characters used in this story. Many of the characters, houses, item materials, and place names used were originally created and are owned by George R.R. Martin.

    The characters I created; Harren the Red, Sigmund Surehands, Skywald the Bowman, Thorin Greenbane, Dagon Deathward, Redwul Stonetree, Adylmon Rowan, Toddric Sarsfield, Ryam Grandison, Wendyl Wynch, Aeron Botley, and Rufus Botley were created by me solely for this story.

    The entirety of the story is my personal interpretation of the Siege of Pyke, a battle in the Greyjoy Rebellion, mentioned as a past event in 'A Song of Ice and Fire', and in no way affects the current storyline of the novel or television series'.

    FanFiction.net does not list works by George R.R. Martin as restricted for use of fan fiction.

    I hope all readers enjoy this tale of bloodshed, brutality, and a little chivalry.

    It is quite a lengthy read, however I assure you it is worth it, as the intensity never stops!



    The Siege of Pyke

    Spoiler for Characters
    The Ironborn Prince Maron Greyjoy, second son of King Balon I Greyjoy.

    Harren the Red, the fiercest Ironborn warrior in living memory. He is over seven feet tall, with limbs as thick as tree trunks. He wields a great war maul, with a red weirwood shaft and Valyrian steel headpiece.

    Sigmund Surehands, Harren's first mate, and second-in-command during raids. Earned his nickname from heavy drinking, prior and during battle.

    Redwul Stonetree, an accomplished master-at-arms of Pyke.

    Thorwin Greenbane, one of Harren's reavers. He is an avid fan of the Ironborn ax-throwing game, the finger dance.

    Skywald the Bowman, one of Harren's reavers. He uses a weirwood recurve bow.


    Six years after Robert's Rebellion (282-83 AL), in 289 AL, Balon Greyjoy, Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands, declared himself King of the Iron Islands, independent of the Seven Kingdoms, ruled by now-King Robert I Baratheon. The Greyjoys swiftly struck at the Westerlands, under House Lannister, by burning the Lannister fleet, at Lannisport, and winning a decisive victory.

    King Robert issued a royal decree for the Lords of Westeros to call their banners in response.

    Stannis Baratheon led the Royal fleet to defeat the Iron Fleet, off the coast of Fair Isle, while simultaneously, the Greyjoys lost the battle of Seagard, which resulted in the death of Prince Rodrik Greyjoy, and as such, the Ironborn were called back to the Islands to defend from the impending counterattack.

    Robert and some of his men recall the most significant battle...



    The Red Keep, King's Landing
    298 AL



    "That was a battle, Selmy. Gods that was a battle," said Robert, as he pulled a flask of ale up to his mouth, taking a large gulp.

    "Aye, Your Grace," said a humbled Ser Barristan Selmy.

    "That giant of a man," Robert said, wincing. "What was his name," he continued, snapping his fingers trying to recollect the name. "The one with legs like a tree stump and boulders on his arms," Robert said laughing.

    Ser Jaime sighed, and looked over to Barristan.

    Robert waved his hand around, trying to think of the name. "Uh, the one with the large maul, uh..." Robert said, failing to recall the man's name.

    "I believe his name was Harren," said Jaime, seemingly flustered.

    "Yes!" Robert exclaimed. "That's the one. Harren the Red they called him. By the Gods that man was the bane of the Warrior, himself," Robert said, heartily. "Would you not say so, Ser Barristan?"

    "Indeed, Your Grace. In living memory, he was the fiercest of the Ironborn I've ever come across."

    Robert looked right at Jaime. "That monstrous son of a we could crush The Mountain with a single blow, as massive as he was."

    "I'm sure he could have, Your Grace," Jaime said in a humbly sarcastic tone. He recalled his disdain for this warrior - the warrior who almost bested him, had it not been for the interference of Eddard Stark, which surely saved his life.

    "Gods I oft ponder how he attained such magnificent strength. Blessed by whatever sy water god they believed in. He could wave that maul around with one arm, like it was a war club," Robert continued, looking up from Barristan to Jaime, and back. "He took down a dozen knights from Lordsport to the courtyard, including two of your brothers," he said to Barristan.

    "Perhaps they were ill-suited to face the man in single combat," Jaime sniped.

    "Had it not been for Lord Eddard, you would be plotting about the Seven right now," Robert said, deliberately mocking him.

    Jaime's head twitched. He was trying to contain his anger, attempting to ignore Robert's relentless goading.

    Barristan forced a cough, attempting to break the tension. "Indeed, Your Grace. I had never seen a man fight with as much fervor, such intense fearlessness. That man could certainly stand his ground."

    "Aye, Barristan. He could..."



    NINE YEARS EARLIER...
    PYKE, IRON ISLANDS



    The water rushed up against the rocks of the ancient island of Pyke, the last bastion of Ironborn strength left, in the rebellion. Parts of the island were as stranded and untouched as always, but on the west of the island, at Lordsport, the armies of the Iron Throne had landed.

    Rodrik Greyjoy laid lifeless at the base of the walls of Seagard, the sieges of both Wyks were over - both islands having already submitted to armies of the Iron Throne. One island remained—the capital of the Islands—Pyke. The last remnants of the Greyjoy army were gathered in defense of the island. The battle for Lordsport had gone terribly wrong, with the Botley army all but destroyed.

    Over ten thousand soldiers loyal to King Robert had landed on the island, already, with hundreds of knights at the head of the immense army, with one goal now in mind - to take Pyke, which will force the Greyjoys to bend the knee.

    Thousands of soldiers poured off the innumerable amount of ships, and flooded into the streets in every direction. Lord Aeron Botley was killed early into the fighting, followed by his son and heir, Rufus. The Botley army was scattered, and what remnants remained gathered with the Greyjoy men, in the eastern portion of the town, that had fallen under the command of Harren the Red, the fearsome Ironborn raider and war captain, following the death of Ser Wendyl Wynch, son of Lord Waldon Wynch.

    Harren had himself killed a dozen knights in Lordsport, including Ser Ryam Grandison of the Kingsguard, and another fifty soldiers. His men were as fierce as defenders as they ever were raiders - which was a telltale sign of their fighting prowess and skill in combat.

    The remnants of the defenders began to cluster on the eastern side of Lordsport, as a rider rode down the hill, from Pyke, making haste. He arrived at the Greyjoy lines, and searched for the commander.

    "Ser Wendyl Wynch!" shouted the rider, looking around at all the men, trying to find the man.

    "Dead," said one of the reavers, who was pouring wine into his hair, to wet his head—a savage abnormality.

    "Who has taken command, reaver?" asked the rider.

    "Who the fk are you? Get a sword and get into the fight," the reaver said, menacingly.

    "I was dispatched by Prince Maron to retrieve what remained of the defending force here, and then to fall back to Pyke Castle. I have brought horses for the men."

    Another reaver scoffed. "Retreat?" he said, turning to the rest of the men there, who cracked smiles, in their boldness. "Retreat from these flower-sting dandies? You're out of your mind. Go back and hide behind your high walls!"

    "That's a royal order, reaver. Prince Maron Greyjoy is tasked by his father with the defense of this island, and," the rider said, looking around at what was left of the able-bodied fighters, "you're dooming yourselves!"

    The reavers just laughed, no longer willing to cooperate verbally, as lawless a bunch as they were.

    Just as the laughter dies down, some horsemen ride to the group of men, from within the town. At their lead was Harren the Red. Harren had a white cloak tied poorly around his neck, it blew with the wind, during his ride. He dismounted with a quick swing of the leg, this massive man, nearly the height of the rider whom sat atop a horse.

    "H-harren," said the rider, forcing a cough, to hide his nervousness. "Prince Maron wishes you and your reavers to return to the castle for its defense."

    Harren looked around the rider, seeing the horses brought down, and noticing no reinforcements, he was stern-faced and grim. "Does the Prince not know? We're winning a battle down here," he said, his grimacing facial expression turns to a wicked smile.

    A bursting roar of laughter is heard from his reavers and the remainder of assorted soldiers.

    "Where'd you get that fancy cloak, Red? It looks some pretty on you," said Thorwin Greenbane, one of Harren's reavers, as hilarity ensued.

    Harren's smile never faded. "I took it off a fancy knight. Some fancy he was, with all that useless amount of armor they wear," he said, as he unwraps the knight's helmet from the back of his destrier.

    "And this!" he says aloud. "This is his helmet, for which I have paid the iron price!"

    The crowd erupted in congratulatory grunts and hoots.

    Harren threw the helmet to the famous Ironborn archer, Skywald the Bowman, who held it, noticing the difference in it from most other helms. It had three spiny fins protruding from the top, and was a very fine steel. Between two of the fins, the killing blow was evident. The helm was crushed right in, the spiny fins forcibly separated, from where Harren's war maul had clearly connected with it. There was a gigantic indent in the helm, deforming it. Clearly, if the soldier's head was inside it at the time, his skull would have been split right open by blow.

    Skywald observed it for a few moments, then tried it on in turn. It had been a tight fit, as it was mangled and deformed, but it fit enough for him and the others to jest about it. "Ser Skywald of Orkmont, at your service, Your Grace!"

    Forcing a faulty bow in mockery of the enemy, Harren roars with laughter, his voice deep as a well.

    "I do believe this was one of their Kingsguard," he said. "The fool led the charge down the ship ramps, and he came right at me. Clearly, this fool thought he was better than he was."

    Slinging his massive red weirwood-shafted maul over his shoulder with one arm, a maul so heavy the average man wouldn't be able to lift it with two hands, he tore the white cloak off his back, and threw it to one of his men, as he walked to get a drink.

    A thrall poured him a large tankard, as Harren took a bowl of water, and washed drying blood off his bare hands, then held the bowl up, and dipped his face inside to wash it off, as well, taking a mouthful of water. He took his face back out, and jerked his head back, his long, dirty blond hair swinging behind him. He spit the water back in the bow, and handed it to the next reaver. "Fall back to Pyke, the Prince says?"

    "Yes, my—"

    "Lord? King?" Harren laughed fanatically, before it slowly died down. He looked around at his men. He looked to the Botleys, the Wynches, the Stonetrees and the Hylands. Merkans, Bruntons, Gryms, and Tryssons. All were loyal, all were Ironborn. "We'll fall back to Pyke, as I suppose my force has dwindled a bit," he said, breaking a grim smile, and putting his head down in reflection for a moment.

    He looked up. "I suppose when all is said and done, from Pyke we might enact thrice the casualties, as opposed to scrapping among the rubble of ol' Lordsport."

    He stood up. "We ride for Pyke Castle. All able," he said, knowing full well those left behind would be spared by the enemy. They had all earned their place at the sea table of the Drowned God, yet their time would not be now.

    His reavers and the scattered men of a multitude of Ironborn houses did as they heard, without hesitation, all believing fully in the man. They all prepared their belongings and trophies, and proceeded up the hill to the horses.

    "Take those ones," Harren directed some of his men to the nearby group of horses.

    "Whose are those?" the rider asked, referring to the idle horses tied to posts nearby.

    "Botley men—though I suppose they won't be needing them now," he said with a harsh smile.

    The rider shook his head at the carelessness of this man, but Harren paid it no never mind.

    "What of the wounded?" the rider asked.

    "What of them?" Harren replied. "This Stormking's will is weak. When you win a battle, you take thralls or you finish them off. You don't release them—for you will face the men another day. The wounded are the safest ones of our lot," he said, as he fixed his helm.

    "We best make haste for the castle, or the enemy outriders will be upon us," the rider said, turning his horse, and turning back.

    "Don't worry about that, you whiny ct. They have yet to establish proper horse. Go, ride back to the castle. We know our way," Harren said, his tone indicating he had had enough of the rider's wanton bickering.

    The rider proceeded to ride off up the hill, back to the castle. The Ironborn who remained, under the command of Harren the Red, began to move out, most by Botley horse, others would take the horses provided. It was clear now that Lordsport had fallen to Robert and his men, but the Ironborn were not yet finished with the war... The formidable castle of Pyke would be the last stand, now.

    After a relatively lengthy ride from Lordsport to the castle, near two hundred and fifty men, bloodied and bruised—yet vigilant, under the command of Harren the Red arrived at the gatehouse, with two hundred able-bodied Ironborn fighters, prepared to join the defense of the castle.

    Prince Maron Greyjoy, who held command of the defense of the Island, on his father's behalf, looked down from a central bastion at the riders—he exchanged looks with Harren. He made for the courtyard to receive their arrival.

    As the riders entered through the opened portcullis, they were received by a dozen Greyjoy men, who were charged with manning the gate from the ground level. The courtyard had scarcely been busy, as the clear loss of men in the rebellion had added up, inevitably leading to this climactic chapter of the story. The end was near for the Greyjoys, but none here would admit to it.

    There was still a good number of widowed salt wives, who remained inside the castle, waiting for husbands who would never return. Instead, these salt wives were now acting in the capacity whores to keep what soldiers remained company, during the final days of the war.

    As the men entered, they broke up respectively to different areas of the courtyard, much of it supplied, yet unoccupied, to dismount and endure some needed and overdue relief. Harren had entered and stopped at the entrance to the courtyard, dismounting.

    "Skin!" he yelled, as he removed his helm.

    A beautiful salt wife with long, straight, sandy red hair, and a fair complexion with scattered freckles, and deep ocean blue eyes, wearing a simple white dress, and holding a transparent blue shawl that she held in both hands around her back, concealing her chest, had overheard the gigantic warrior's demand, and turned to the other girls, smiling and winking, as she backed away from them, towards the giant man, as they all knew who this famous warrior was. She swayed her hips, walking towards him, trying to catch his attention.

    She was just before him, now. "Hi, big—" she had been cut off, as he grabbed her by the side of the head and threw her a few feet over, into the mucky filth of the trodden, muddy road. She was dumbfounded and stunned by his boldness, her jaw dropped, as she was beyond surprised.

    Harren just looked at her, as he was handed a skin of wine. He pulled the cap out, with his teeth and put the bottom up, chugging the entire skin. Clearly, the woman misinterpreted his intentions.

    She was helped up by Thorwin, who slung the filthy woman over his shoulder and carried her off to a nearby stable. "I could use a drain," he said, carelessly.

    Paying no never mind to it, Harren threw his war maul to two oncoming thralls, knocking them both down. The two men then got up, exerting their strength to lift the giant maul, to place it off to the side of the courtyard, at a resting area prepared for the new arrivals.

    Maron Greyjoy came down, in full mailed-leather armor—the dark gold kraken sigil emblazoned upon a dark brown mail-fitted breastplate—simple armor to a knight of the Kingsguard, but astounding and mobile armor for an Ironborn. He was flanked by three men-at-arms.

    "Harren the Red—the only giant and scariest bastard I ever met," said Maron, as he motioned to punch Harren in the stomach, breaking a smirk.

    Harren had burst into laughter. "Fear the kraken, knights of Westeros," he said, jokingly.

    Harren put his hand on Maron's shoulder. "I was not at Seagard, but had I been, woe to the Lord of it," he said, in reference to the death of Maron's older brother, Rodrik, during the Battle of Seagard—slain by Lord Jason Mallister.

    "What is dead may never die," Maron said, quoting the infamous Ironborn saying, taking in a deep breath, proud of his family and their position. "My father is impressed with your victories," he said, changing the subject. "The raid on Barrowton was flawless. Banefort, Faircastle, Umbridge," he continued. "He said he's never seen such reaving voracity."

    "I have an insatiable hunger for success," said Harren, with a humble smirk. "Alas, would you care to have a few barrels of whatever makeshift ale remains? During war, most men want to wet their cks—but me? I prefer the pleasure of a belly full of wine and paying the iron price where I can, by killing as many fancy knights as I can find. Of course, if time allots it, we can wet our cks as well," he said, as both men broke out laughing. "I'm sure the Stormking has had enough bloodshed for one day," he said, putting his arm around Maron, as the two walked through the stalls of the courtyard.



    MEANWHILE, AT LORDSPORT


    "Fetch me another flagon, fool." Robert said to his cup bearer.

    The king's armor had become quite tight in recent years, due to his overindulgence in the finer sides of being a king...

    After his breastplate was removed, and the chain mail, followed by his leggings, the king's body could breathe. He slipped into comfortable clothing, in the royal tent, and convened with his military council.

    His longtime friend, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sat to his left. Next to Lord Eddard, was Robert's brother Stannis, Lord of Dragonstone, and admiral of the Royal Fleet. At the end of that side of the table, Ser Brynden Tully, the Vale commander, sent on behalf of Lord-Hand Jon Arryn. Across from Brynden, the other knight on the council, Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of his Kingsguard, and veteran of many wars. Next to Barristan was the Lord of Seagard, and Riverlands representative of Hoster Tully, Jason Mallister. Lastly, Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, and chief financier of the crown of Westeros.

    Finally, the sweaty glutton Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, and former adversary-turned-loyal bannerman of the new monarchy had arrived, seating himself opposite Robert.

    "Not one," Robert said, angrily, but seemingly careless of Lord Mace's lack of punctuality. "Not one swing of my hammer. I should have led the charge off those boats, as I led at the Trident. But no, I sit behind you lot, and by the time I reach the battle, it's over."

    "We should be thankful," said Ned, daydreaming at a fixed spot on the barren table, then looking up to Robert. "Thankful something hadn't happened to you, yet, and will not. Your son isn't ready to lead, Your Grace."

    Robert just let out a disheveled grunt, clearly disappointed by not being able to participate in the fighting.

    "We should consider our next steps, Your Grace," Tywin said, with an assuring tone.

    "Next steps... The siege, My Lord," Robert replied. "Those Greyjoy sts must still be pulling the grass out of their arses, after the leveling we just gave them."

    "Barristan, what would you say on the matter?"

    Barristan cleared his throat. "I would recommend clearing out the rest of the island, as the majority of the defensive force remaining will likely hold up in the castle, Your Grace."

    Robert shook is head, looking to Stannis. "And you, brother?"

    Stannis looks at Ned, and to Tywin, then Robert. "I agree with Ser Barristan. I say we bleed them out of Pyke, and clean up the rest of the island. There are still plenty of Lords who have not sworn fealty, yet, Your Grace."

    "To hell with that. We will march on the castle as soon as the siege engines can be positioned," he declared, overlooking the insight of his council, as usual. "The motion has already been set in place, and those bloody engines have been dismantled and hauled up those stony hills all day. The maesters provided will oversee the assembly and positioning and they will all be in place and ready within days," he said, realizing the surprised look on the faces of his council.

    "Every day Balon Greyjoy sits atop that withered chair and calls himself king is another day I am insulted," he bellowed, continuing,
    "and I will not have him spend a few more weeks claiming himself a king, as he seemingly refers to himself!"

    "Over my bloody body, My Lords!"

    "The plans are in place, and we strike in less than three days, at dawn. I will not waste another bloody minute in taking that godsforsaken rock fort!"

    "The casualty report, Ser Barristan," Stannis asked, replacing his brother's incessant rants, before he could break his own pause and continue.

    "We estimate nearly two thousand dead, and similar wounded, in Lordsport alone," said Barristan. "The flames seem not to be out fully, yet, My Lord. The casualties are still coming in."

    "The Ironborn numbers?" Ned asked, inquiringly.

    "Not near enough," Tywin snapped, boldly.

    Ser Barristan ignored the comment, and continued, "A similar match in dead, and perhaps a third as much that wounded and captured."

    "It would seem they would rather death than surrender," Mace remarked.

    "So it seems," said Tywin, uninterested.

    Robert stroked his beard, and received another flagon of wine from his cup bearer. "The commanders?"

    "Lord Aeron Botley's body has been recovered from the rubble, and his son, Rufus, we also believe has been killed. The Botley army has for the most part melted away. Some fled east to Pyke castle—whilst others continued fighting, but the remnants are being rounded up now."

    Robert nodded. "Like fking cockroaches, these Greyjoys."

    Ned spoke up. "Ser Barristan. Have I heard it right that one of your brothers is dead?"

    "Aye, My Lord. Ser Ryam Grandison's body has been recovered. He was killed in the heat of battle," said a disappointed Barristan. "He was a good brother and lad, strong and true."

    Brynden clinched his jaw. "Aye, it was The Red that got him, too, as I saw it from afar."

    "Which Greyjoy ct would that be?" Robert asked.

    "Harren the Red," responded Brynden. "The fiercest son of a bh I've ever come across," he said plainly. "I have seen a lot of suns set, but never have I come across a man more menacing in combat than that one."

    Robert looked intrigued, seemingly uninterested in the death of one of his own Kingsguard, but rather the mysteriousness surrounding this Ironborn warrior.

    "Now this is the same Harren who hit Barrowton, prior to the burning of the Lannister fleet?" Ned asked, curiously.

    "The same," replied Brynden. "Him and his reavers hit Banefort and a few other ports as well."

    Tywin took a deep breath, but showed little emotion, despite the fact his lands suffered the most from this rebellion.

    "And where is he now?" Robert demanded.

    "Fled to Pyke Castle—last our scouts noted," said Brynden. "It's hard to miss a man of that stature... He took over two hundred men with him, as well. Many his own reavers, I assume."

    "So he's hold up with the Greyjoy cts?"

    "Yes, Your Grace," replied Brynden.

    Tywin coughed, interrupting the discussion with his own notion. "Perhaps we should settle this once and for all, and resolve the rest of this matter with champions. I will put Ser Gregor Clegane to the task—"

    "That man's very presence insults this council," Ned snapped back, looking to Tywin.

    "That knight is one of my top commanders, Lord Eddard, and if you do not approve of it, you are more than capable of vacating your seat for a councilor with the intention of ending this rebellion as swiftly as possible—"

    "Enough!" Robert bellowed. "By the Gods keep order. I demand it. The enemy is in that fking castle laughing at us."

    "Those laughs will disappear soon, I imagine," remarked Mace.

    "Keep it shut!" Robert replied scornfully.

    "I will not risk the independence of these islands on that gargantuan over there, I assure you," he continued, having referred to the monstrous Ser Gregor Clegane. "No. We will strike them hard and swift. We will besiege Pyke, ending this rebellion there, and I will hear no more about it. Council dismissed," said Robert, looking to his cup bearer.

    "It's empty. You have one fking job. Gods forbid you ever have a job of any true worth in your life," he said to the trembling cup bearer.

    Robert kept quiet for a moment, reflecting to himself, as his cup was filled. "Now get out the lot of you," he said quietly, though enough for them to hear.



    PYKE CASTLE


    The sun had disappeared in the far west, and the castle was a lit with torches all around. Each islet connected by massive bridges, some more weathered than others. They were lined row after row with torches. The stars shined clear in a cloudless sky, and there was an eerie silence in the night, despite the hustle and bustle of the defenders, making preparations for the siege.

    Harren's men had made camp in the courtyard, with the majority of the Greyjoy defenders.

    He was granted a luxurious guest room, in the Great Keep, with a large balcony overlooking the southern sea, and in the west, the courtyard and Ironborn encampment could be seen.

    Finishing off, Harren pulled out and threw the girl forward into the massive pile of duck feather-filled silken pillows, and climbed off the bed. He stretched his arms back and rolled his shoulders. He went over to the wine table, and poured himself a tankard of potato wine—all that seemed to be left in their stores. He took a deep breath, and as he put the tankard to his mouth and began downing it, a hard knock was heard at his chamber door.

    He finished the tankard, and burped aloud. "Who the fk has a death wish tonight?"

    "Prince Maron Greyjoy is here to see you, Captain," a guard replied.

    "Send him in," Harren said, as he poured himself another full tankard of wine, coughing to clear his throat.

    The door opened, and in Maron came, without retinue. The doors were shut behind him, as he walked up to Harren, glancing over to the bed, to see the three women lying there, two kissing and one catching her breath, all naked as can be...

    "It seems you're busy and I came at a bad time, Captain," he said, with a grin on his face.

    "Nah, I was finished..." Harren trailed off, as he downed another tankard of wine, "...For now," he finished, as he picked up the pitcher to fill his tankard with the last cup of wine.

    Maron noticed the wine dried up in the pitcher, when Harren finished pouring. "It seems our stocks have run low..."

    "So it seems," Harren replied. "I gave ten barrels to my men. They fight better with full bellies—" he burped again.

    "Come, old friend. Let's talk on the balcony," the Prince said, leading his naked friend onto the balcony. There was a chill in the air, and the aroma of sea salt was as fresh as can be to an Islander's nostrils.

    Harren leaned on the edge of the balcony railing, with his tankard in hand. Maron stood beside him, leaning his back and elbows on the balcony, facing into the room.

    Maron glanced between Harren's legs. "I thought the horses were kept in the stables," he said, jesting.

    "My father says we will dine in the watery halls before bending the knee to the Stormking," he continued.

    Harren just looked out, turning to look at the encampment, much of it having died down by this time, as preparations will begin early for the siege.

    "When I was in Slaver's Bay we confiscated a fishing vessel that had a full load of giant lobsters," Harren said, then taking a mouthful of wine, and swallowing it. "We dined that night on the deck of the ship. We cooked those lobsters, and between the lot of us, we finished the entire ship load. They had to be the best fking lobsters I had ever had..."

    "...I wonder, will the Drowned God's table offer the same course?" He cracked a hard smile. "I hope so."

    Maron looked slightly unimpressed, but quickly concealed his expression. "You don't fear death, in any form, do you my friend?"

    "About as much as I fear one of these wenches drawing a dagger on me in my sleep," he said, letting out a muffled laugh. He finished another small sip, poured the last of the wine off the balcony, and tossed the tankard into the sea. He watched it go down, and even Maron glanced over the side momentarily. "What is dead may never die, brother."

    "What is dead may never die," Maron reaffirmed.

    "A drink for the Drowned God. For on the morrow, there won't be a single seat unoccupied at his table," Harran said. Maron did not reply. "I liked that tankard," he said, looking to Maron, another quick smile appearing, as he ran his hand threw his long, dirty blond hair.

    "Well, there isn't an Islander that doesn't know your name, nor a knight in the Kingdoms that doesn't tremble at the sight of you. I seldom imagine you'll ever be forgotten, my friend," Maron said, looking off into the sea.

    "I imagine so, however, I could give two sts what anyone thinks of me—"

    "Harren, when are you coming back to bed?" A voice uttered from behind.

    Harren turned, and Maron looked on attentively. "Come here, woman," he said.

    The woman walked over, swaying her hips side to side. It was the same girl he had discarded earlier in the day, passing her aside for a skin of wine.

    "Three goes isn't enough for you?" continued Harren, as a smirk appeared on Maron's face.

    "Not when it's the most savage brute around. I'll take the night as much for granted as I can," she replied.

    "So tell me," he continued, as he pulled her close, placing her under one arm. "Does your husband know of your adulterous ways?"

    "He's long gone. I heard from a dock hand that he was killed at Seagard. He's no longer a husband of mine."

    Harren sniggered coldly. "And how many men have you bedded, since mourning his death?"

    "As many as nights since, I can say," she said, boastfully.

    Looking over the side of the balcony, to a protruding walkway below, Harren licked his lips, looking over to Maron, he grinned.

    Out of nowhere he grabbed the woman by the throat, and heaved her in the air, tossing her over the railing like the tankard, except this time, there was a walkway to receive the fall. The woman screamed, but it was soon over. She fell against the stone walkway, landing upon her back. There was a loud landing of bones cracking upon stone. The woman laid lifeless, a small line of blood having immediately descended out of her mouth, in the form of red drool. Her eyes remained open, but she was certainly dead.

    Harren and Maron both looked over. Two Greyjoy sentries ran to the body, and then looked up to the balcony, seeing the two figures above looking down. They had both returned to their stations, recognizing the chambers that the balcony belonged to.

    "Well, one less mouth to feed when the time comes about," said Harren, as coldly as he often does.

    "Indeed..." Maron replied, seemingly at ease by the savagery.

    Harren put his hand on Maron's back and the two walked inside. "On the morrow, I will join the men at the front. I will stay there until the siege commences. We do not need division in the ranks, and special treatment—though I appreciate the hospitality of your father, old friend."



    THE NEXT MORNING...


    Harren exited through the chamber door and proceeded down the hall, flanked from behind by two Greyjoy guards.

    As he descended the northwestern spiraling staircase, and proceeded to the great hall. There, he stood in the empty hall, with but a few Greyjoy guards remaining. As he turned, heading out to the large stone bridge separating the courtyard and great keep, he came across a boy, no more than around his tenth name day. The boy bumped into him, as he tried cutting across and he flew back, just laying there, looking up at the gigantic warrior looking down at him.

    Harren knelt down, reached in and grabbed the boy's shirt, picking him up by it, and standing him on his feed. Now, crouching a little further in, he looked the boy in the eyes. "What is your name?"

    "Theon," the boy replied, with little fear in his eyes.

    "Do you know who I am, Theon?"

    "Yes," replied Theon, confident in his answer, and strikingly non-intimidated. "All of the Iron Islands knows you."

    Harren smiled. "And do you fear me, boy?"

    "No," the boy replied, as quickly as the confident word could be uttered.

    "You have the look of your brothers. Surely you are legitimate," he said, turning his head around to four Greyjoy guards following him to the bridge. "I wonder if these sons of bhes are as confident as you," he said coldly.

    "I knew your brother, Rodrik. He was a great warrior. Your brother Maron is quickly following in his footsteps. I would expect the same from you, one day."

    "I will be a great warrior, Captain Harren. I will lead raids and capture thralls and have a dozen salt wives," said Theon, enthusiastically.

    Harren guffawed. "I'd take you on my crew. I'll give you another couple years. I first reaved on my eleventh name day. My father told me it is the most important rite of passage for an Ironborn and I would have to agree."

    "Will you be fighting with my brother, when the siege begins?"

    "Either I dine with your father by weeks end in celebration, or I dine with the Drowned God," said Harren, as he tightened the fastening of one of his bracers.

    Harren let out a deep chuckle, and grabbed Theon on the top of his head, and messed up his hair, as he continued on his way, followed by his Greyjoy escort.

    Theon just looked on, in awe.

    The men mounted up their horses, already prepared on the bridge head. They rode out to the encampment to convene with the men.

    The Greyjoy encampment was lively with routine preparations. There were no drills that morning, as the siege was so soon upon them, and they must focus their energy on it.

    Harren rode out, shortly after dawn, and having broken his fast already, alone in his room, he would now take full command of his reavers.

    Arriving at the camp, Harren was intercepted by Dagon Deathward, Pyke Castle's Captain of the Guard.

    "Is makeshift rabble all we have left?" said Dagon, with his deep, brutish voice.

    "I don't recall seeing you at Lordsport, yesterday?" Harren replied.

    "Bah, the ol' Balon put his stock into ol' Lord Aeron..."

    "That old man couldn't lead a fart out of his bowels," said Harren, as he fastened his boots.

    "What's the situation?"

    "The Stormking has begun moving his siege engines into place, overnight. Even the big ones. They spent the entire night hauling them up, with our own men providing the labor. They set up all around the perimeter, a few hundred meters out, out of range of our archers. They're moving like ants to get this done."

    "So we should be planning on a siege this week," replied Harren, undeterred.

    "Two days, if I would have my guess."

    "Skywald will handle the archers, when the time comes about. That man's the best archer on the Islands, and could fire an arrow over the hill and I'd guess he'd get it within thirty feet of that king."

    "Your reavers are guests, Harren. Prince Maron is tasked with command of the defense, by King Balon."

    "Balon nor Maron were at Lordsport yesterday, Dagon. If the Prince was tasked with the defense, then I'm sure he would have been present, not that Wynch knight you sent, who had no bloody idea what he was doing."

    "Ser Wendyl was the finest knight on Pyke—"

    "He was a fool. A fool who foolishly charged forth and got himself killed. That's all he was, and now he's cleaning the Drowned God's chamber pots."

    Dagon was about to speak, when another voice intervened. "He's right, Dagon," said Maron, as he walked up behind them, dressed in full armor.

    "My father's decision to prevent adequate reinforcements at Lordsport was a blunder. He put too much stock in Lord Aeron, and it cost us the beachhead, and the port," he continued. "We will not make the same mistake again."

    "Captain Harren, we welcome the insight of your men."

    Ignoring Dagon now, Harren spoke, without looking directly at either. "Skywald will position the archers, Sigmund will man the gatehouse and the immediate area around it, and Thorwin will command a floating force on the southern side, from the southern tower to the gatehouse.

    I will be present here in the south side, as it is the greatest concentration for the enemy, and the likeliest breach attempt will be made here, rather than them foregoing added exposure charging in the stretched northern section.

    My reavers will henceforth take up position here, while your men take the north of the wall."


    "Perhaps we can discuss this at counc—"

    "There needn't be a council, Dagon," Harren snapped back. "Host your own. But my men know their roles, and that's all there is to it."

    Dagon looked furious with his old friend, but refused to utter a word, as few would be so bold to cross Harren the Red. Dagon just looked to Maron. "Is this the right of it?"

    "Yes, it is," Maron replied, believing in Harren's strategy.

    "Right then," Dagon said, as he turned away to keep to his own affairs.

    Sigmund Surehands, Harren's first mate and lieutenant approached them.

    "You son of a bh," he said coldly. "We were pinching our as cheeks in the nip last night, while you fancied yourself a fine chamber in the royal palace," he said, sarcastically.

    "The benefits of slaying fifty men in a single battle, Sig. Fear not, for one day you will know the feeling," Harren snapped back sharply.

    Sigmund belted out a suffocated laugh, it seemed so deep. "You cruel bd," he said, cheerfully.

    The two men locked hands and pulled in, banging each other on their backs with their fists.

    "Ready for a battle?" asked Sigmund.

    "This is the war," replied Harren. "This is what will go down in the old Maester books of the Citadel. This tale will make all those Greenlander knights' pretty little wives moist at the thought of our brute strength and ferocity. They will yearn at the thought of us brutes, as their lovers never return home."

    "Optimistic are we?" Sigmund affronted.

    "Fancy word for a raider, no?" Harren replied facetiously.

    "We should stay at less fancy places in our travels then," japed Sigmund.

    "Surrounded by the finest, am I not?" Maron interceded.

    The three of them walked up the steps to the top of the wall, the fog still thick as a stone wall itself, right in front of them. Greyjoy men walked the wall, dozens of them, waiting. Waiting for an inevitable battle to come...

    Maron extended his monocular and looked out, seeing in the distance the siege teams working away.

    "Here," he said to Harren, handing him the monocular.

    Harren extended it, and put it to his eye. "I imagine they're out of range of our trebuchets?"

    "They are assembling from afar, then they will move into place when the siege is ready, preventing an early assault from our siege weapons," said Maron. "We can do nothing but wait..."



    ROYAL ENCAMPMENT
    Two days later...



    "Aside from the wall, you know anything else of their defense plans?"

    "Fk ya'self, ya pompous flower-sniffin' st," the man replied.

    A fist came crashing down, across his face forcing a spew of bloody saliva out of his mouth. The man spit up two teeth onto the ground.

    "Is that the best ya can do, ya nance?" The man said boldly, as he chuckled.

    A clear uppercut caught the man under the chin, nearly knocking him out, but he was shaken by two guards, slapped, and cold ice water was poured on him, to keep him awake.

    "That's enough!" A voice firmly growled.

    Robert walked into the tent, flanked by his Kingsguard.

    Ser Adylmon Rowan of the Kingsguard had led the interrogation, but turned up nothing.

    "Aside from the southern wall being a weak spot, he won't speak anymore, Your Grace. That seems to be our breach point," said Adylmon.

    "Get him out of my sight," Robert said, waving him away.

    Two Baratheon men had unbound the man, and dragged him away.

    Robert walked out of the interrogation tent with Ser Barristan at his side. Ser Adylmon Rowan and Ser Toddric Sarsfield followed just behind him.

    Walking to his tent, present were his war council. Lord Eddard, Lord Tywin, Lord Stannis, all were present.

    "You all know your roles. And I will not have another word of doubt about it. It ends tomorrow," said Robert, as he sits down.

    "Stannis," he says, as he beckons his brother to speak.

    "We strike before the fog breaks, on the morrow. The trebuchets will focus on the southern side, as intended. Once there is a breach, we will fall in and overwhelm them. They will not be able to neglect the rest of their wall, as we will send in ladders up and down the wall, and so they will have to spread their forces leaving no one area too well protected," Stannis explained.

    "And the range?" Eddard asked, inquiringly.

    "Maester Gyrwyn has set the ranges himself. The bombardment will be sporadic at first, and will switch to the weak spot, when the enemy least expects it," replied Stannis.

    Some of the lords stirred, but none dared speak out.

    "Get your men prepared," Robert said sternly, as he downed yet another chalice of fine wine.

    "We strike at dawn."



    PYKE CASTLE
    Dawn of the third day...




    (Source: Obsidianportal.com)


    Harren had gotten up early, and walked the battlements alone, and now, he stood on the top of the wall, looking into the thick fog, which they hoped would lift. Beside him, Skywald tested his bow's malleability.

    "Ready for this, brother?"

    "Our defining moments," Harren reaffirmed, hitting his friend on the back, and walking to the gatehouse, to visit Sigmund.

    "Harren," a voice bellowed, in a grunting fashion, clearly identifiable.

    "Redwul Stonetree," Harren said, turning around. "By the God arisen from the tides, himself. Your still breathing?"

    "Breathing and yearning for a good fight. It has been too long," Redwul replied.

    "Where have you been. You've missed the war, old friend," Harren joked.

    "As long as I'm here for the end of it, and can bury my hatchet in some mainland dandies, then that's what matters."

    "Well said, old friend, well said."

    "Your father would have given his life twice over to be apart of this."

    "Alas, perhaps we will join the many warriors before us, by days end," Harren responded, in an eerily serious tone.

    Just then, a sentry signaled down below, and voices were heard from the gatehouse, nearby. Scouts were returning and the portcullis was raised, and the scouts atop horseback entered through the gatehouse, and into the courtyard. Their report was in.

    Maron Greyjoy could be seen talking to the scouts, and then proceeded to walk off with Dagon Deathward.

    Redwul Stonetree followed the two of them, and Harren just awaited news he already felt he knew. He descended down the battlements to receive news.

    The scouts mounted up, riding in separate directions down the walls, they were tasked with informing the sectional commanders.

    The scout stopped at Harren. "Captain Harren, the siege will commence shortly, we are almost certain," he spoke, before galloping off down to inform the men further on.

    Harren signaled for his thralls, as he prepared to equip his weaponry.

    Skywald stood on the wall, with archers of all houses of the Islands, but primarily bearing the sigil of the kraken of Greyjoy.

    Thorwin led a unit of horse, with many of Harren's reavers, but also some other assorted Islanders, and they could do nothing but wait to ride.

    Sigmund stood on the top of the gatehouse, and waited, watching out into the thick fog, which slowly receded, but not quick enough. The armies of the Iron Throne could not be seen.

    It was a waiting game. The defenders were silent as as stagnant air. Only the wind could be heard blowing against the standards on the tower flagpoles. The gusting was relentless, and the fog was lifting. The skies were still grey as can be, and it was murky morning. It would be the last day that many on the island would experience a morning's light.

    Harren had equipped his dual shortswords, fastened in their crossed sheathes. His immense roundshield was fastened on his back, and he held his great war maul in two hands before him, on its side. He firmly gripped it, and loosened his grip, gripping it harder the next squeeze.

    Yells could be heard along the defensive perimeter—as the last preparations were made. All the men were in place, with their positions to be defended to the death.

    Moments had seemed hours, but then the bombardment began, as predicted.

    It was so silent now, that the defenders could hear in the distance the faintest howls of their foe. It wasn't long before the silence, second to only the giant boulders ranging in size from a watermelon to a horse were projected from the varying sized trebuchets, still concealed by the fog, and seemingly unknown to the suspecting, yet blind defenders.

    With Maesters provided from Oldtown, who specialized in siege engineering and mathematics, the precision of the engines were near perfect.

    The initial barrage was in flight, and the Ironborn defenders could do nothing but look on, and wait for it.

    Out of the wall of fog, projectiles smashed against the ancient stone walls of Pyke Castle. The smashing sounds were enormous, and the Ironborn archers and others took cover behind the formidable walls—but each projectile, regardless of size, made its presence known with the loud collisions and explosive shards dislodged off the wall, with each successful collision.

    Harren, as with most of the Ironborn defenders on the ground, kept right up next to the wall, most of which were beneath protruding stone roofs, which would prevent falling debris from hitting them. This was a custom, and very important addition to the castle's outer wall.

    Up top, along the wall, Greyjoy men were taking cover, some behind crenellations, yet the crenellations were soon not as safe to hide behind, as several were struck dead on, and the defenders behind them were turned to nothing more than unrecognizable fusions of bone and flesh. Limbs were flying off the top of the wall, down below, as stone chunks from the wall were dotting the inner courtyard, and the screams of the wounded could be heard as clear as the impacts of the projectiles striking the walls. They could not retaliate until the enemy approached.

    Maron stood atop, in the southern-most tower, his monocular always in hand. More fearless than he originally thought he could be, he kept his position, despite the fact that the only defense for the towers above, was the reinforced ironwood coned roofs, which would not stop a good sized projectile. Every bombardment was a chance taken, but Maron holding his position up there kept the morale of the men high.

    The soldiers dwindled slightly in number, most finding above adequate protection, enough to survive. And for the better portion of nearly two hours, the bombardment pounded against the walls, relentlessly, as if King Robert planned to take the wall down shard by shard...



    THE ROYAL ENCAMPMENT


    Ser Cortnay Penrose approached Robert, as Robert sat openly watching, as the fog lifted almost completely, the walls could be seen taking a pounding from where he was positioned to watch.

    "Your Grace, shall we proceed to the second phase of the siege?"

    Robert was resting upright, in a straight posture. It was a rare way for him to sit, as he often preferred lazily slouching, for what courts he did conduct himself. He ignored Ser Cortnay at first.

    After several moments, and the knight waiting for a response, Robert spoke. "Continue the bombardment, to cover the approach, but move the ladders forward... And the siege towers. We will engage them."

    "Understood, Your Grace," Ser Cortnay responded, bowing, and withdrawing to make the arrangements.

    Some of the court couriers were also given dispatch to inform the varying lords to send in their stocks, with the second phase commencing.

    With the orders given, the few siege towers that had been assembled over the past few days were pushed forward, and the long ladders were lifted by their crews, and the march began towards the wall. The trebuchets continued to pound the castle walls. In many spots, the wall had been severely damaged, though the incredible fortitude of the stone had held it from collapsing in any one area.

    Ser Cortnay returned to the walls, and issued the order to continue fire.

    Stannis oversaw the larges of the trebuchets and so, with Robert's wishes, explained by Ser Cortnay, Stannis decided it was time to slowly turn the trebuchets to focus on the southern wall.

    "Maester Gyrwyn," Stannis said sharply.

    "Yes, My Lord?"

    "Initiate the rotation to target the tower in strategy."

    "It will be done, My Lord."



    PYKE CASTLE


    The walls were relentlessly pounded, in what seemed to be the frequency of a hard rain, with a collision in what seemed to be every few seconds. The wall had taken a thrashing for over two hours, and the Greyjoys had lost dozens of men.

    Maron remained vigilant in the tower, and noticed the approach. As was the plan, he ordered the signaling of the troops, to inform them of the approach. An archer fired a flaming arrow into the air over the courtyard, from the tower top.

    The Ironborn defenders were now aware that the assault was coming. Now, the real battle would begin.

    Dagon Deathward could be seen riding out to the trebuchets, where the siege teams were idled and waiting.

    Near immediately, they went into action loading the weapons with the perfectly prepared projectiles. They loaded and launched at will, blindly into the field of the oncoming assault.

    "Let's show them the wrath of the Ironborn, boys!"

    The random voice was not familiar to Harren, but he took charge of the immediate area.

    "Archers, to your positions," he demanded. "Skywald, you better drop a hundred before they even touch the wall!"

    Skywald joined the Greyjoy archers that were running up the stairs to the battlements. He did not reply, but Harren knew he could rely on him.

    The attackers charged forward. The archers drew their first volley, and launched it deep into the attacking lines. Despite the bombardment, the archers continued to draw volleys, as the projectiles hit all around them, some striking clear into the crenallations where the archers were.

    Harren ran up to the battlements, and looked through a crenellation at the soldiers coming. He identified the strong points of the assault and continued to coordinate where his defense would have to be. Just over a half dozen siege towers were assembled for the assault.

    The large projectiles were noticeably shifting down the battlements, towards the southern tower.

    Harren figured this would happen. The archers loosed at will now, and Skywald was by far the most accurate shot. Where he selected his strikes on which foe he aimed for, he would hit with precision aim, having dropped a dozen attackers already.

    As the towers drew nearer, and two siege towers approached, the archers continued to relentlessly assault them, but near to no avail. Even with lit arrows, the thick furs that shielded the wooden frame were coated in a nonflammable alchemist concoction and protected them from going a lit. He noticed this strategy used before, in Essos. Harren commanded his reavers above up top, as he knew the siege towers would dock, and to bolster the strength of the Greyjoy spear and ax men, as they prepared to engage in melee.

    The first tower reached within range, and the trapdoor slowly dropped onto the wall, with iron latches collapsing down over the battlement, to lock the bridge in place, the men were Lannisters in this tower, and their maroon armor clearly identifiable. The archers launched one last volley into the tower, striking several Lannister men down, a few having tumbled off the bridge, to the rocky ground below. Harren was at the front of the bridge, with a dozen of his reavers to meet the Lannister force.

    He was the first to take a swing, connecting with a Lannister soldier, collapsing his breastplate into him, instantly, and sending him flying to the ground below. The other reavers used primarily ax and shield and engaged actively against them.

    In the distance, an Ironborn trebuchet connected with a siege tower, collapsing one corner, and causing a bend, and cracks, as the side slowly fell over, due to the lack of support. The tower eventually collapsed over, the top half snapping off, sending the men inside straight to the ground, in a cage of collapsing wood.

    Enemy archers had come within fifty meters of the wall, having proceeded forth with walled trolleys, to protect them while they returned fire against the Ironborn archers, in relative protection.

    Maron joined his men on the main battlements, as another tower connected to the wall, and dropped its bridge, as Tyrell men stormed out to engage the Greyjoy host.

    Maron was heavy into the fighting, with his men, and none had noticed a tower lined up near the southern most tower, as several Tyrell men ascended up the ladder and slid into the tower, going to the top with the intent to remove the Greyjoy standard.

    "Bd, bd, bd!" Maron exclaimed, as he hacked away at a Tyrell soldier, whom he shoved to the floor of the battlements. His hatchet having connected several times to the base of the man's neck, in the opening of the armor. He hacked away at the soldier, only to be jumped on by another that had come across the bridge. The two wrestled on the battlement floor, trying to gain the upper hand over one another, Maron had dropped his hatchet and held the mans arm, to keep his drawn dagger away.

    A spear was thrust into the back of the Tyrell soldier and Maron threw him aside, grabbing his hatchet and burying it into the exposed Tyrell's breastplate, in a slanted gap on the chest. A spurt of blood exploded out of the opening.

    Redwul reached down, and helped the Prince to his feet. "My Prince," he said, heartily.

    "Thank the Drowned God, Redwul," Maron said exhausted.

    The Greyjoy men had now crossed the bridge of the tower, and held the soldiers at the staircase in the tower, having gained the superior position. But down the wall some ways, other Tyrell men had ascended ladders and overwhelmed a group of exposed archers, butchering them.

    Maron noticed also, turning around, that the Greyjoy standard had been taken down, tossed into the courtyard, and the Tyrell standard was being raised. Fearing morale drop, and loss of the tower, he acted quickly.

    "Go, Redwul, take care of those frs, and I'll handle the tower."

    Redwul withdrew his spear, shield in his offhand, he proceeded with a small contingent of troops to deal with them.

    Maron charged to the ladder that was being used, and two Tyrell men charged them and were quickly beaten, and tossed off the battlements. Maron proceeded inside with two Greyjoy soldiers at is side, and two others knocked the ladder down.

    Inside the tower, Maron engaged an unsuspecting Tyrell soldier, who was withdrawing his spear out of a Greyjoy soldier. Maron shoved the soldier forward, as the soldier hit head first into the wall, his helm detaching from his head, Maron took his hatchet and buried it into the man's exposed skull.

    The two Greyjoy men proceeded up the stairs to remove the Tyrell standard, having now been fully flown.

    As they engaged upstairs, Maron was unable to withdraw his hatchet, so he drew his sword, and proceeded up the steps.

    The tower had come under heavy fire from the attacking trebuchets, and was being focused in fire, slowly, but surely the tower was going down, as it began to wobble, abnormally, and fissures grew in the walls, and the tower quickly began to deteriorate in steadiness.

    Up top, there were four Tyrell men, one having been taken down by the Greyjoy soldiers, but the two defenders were quickly overwhelmed by the other Tyrell soldiers. Maron surprised them, burying his sword into one of their bellies, he threw the man down the steps, and connected sword to sword with another one, quickly parrying several strikes, he took his sword in two hands, one on the end of the blade, and he swung the hand guard to connect with the soldier's neck, and slid the blade across his throat, with both hands, forcing out a spray of fresh blood, slitting the soldier's throat deeply as the soldier dropped back to the floor. The third soldier charged at him, and Maron sidestepped him, using the soldier's momentum to throw him into a tower top crenellation.

    From behind he buried his sword into the man's back, having thrust it deeper in, he drew a dagger from his belt, and put it to the soldier's throat, and slit his throat to finish him off.

    The soldier dropped down, and Maron sheathed his weapons, as he proceeded to grab the Tyrell standard, and heave it off the tower, to the courtyard below. The men below cheered, but he heard footsteps on the stairs...

    Two more Tyrell soldiers proceeded up, and Maron drew his sword to confront them. The tower shook, disconnecting from the battlements itself, and cracking all over, Maron had lost his footing and fell to the floor. The two Tyrell soldiers stumbled on the stairs, but all of them regained their composure, and as Maron proceeded to swing his sword at the first soldier, the tower let out an immense cracking sound, as three large projectiles collided with the center of it, the tower leaned forward, disconnected fully from the wall itself, it fell forward, and Maron fell into the two Tyrell soldiers, as the tower collapsed outwards, smashing against the rocky ground below.

    The stones all came apart, and crushed all inside the tower.

    From the wall nearby, the Greyjoy soldiers watched as the tower had fallen, their Prince inside it. The tower broke apart into a stony rubble, and they certainly feared their Prince killed.

    As it collapsed, dozens of soldiers lining the base of the wall below poured into the courtyard. At its front, Thoros of Myr, the red priest, with his sword a lit, followed by Jorah Mormont, the lord of Bear Island. Behind them, Starks, Lannisters, Tyrells, Tully, and Frey men poured into the opening, as was planned. Hundreds of soldiers charged for the breach, from the attacking side, and were confronted by dozens of Greyjoy men, and some elite reavers.

    Nearby, Harren had descended down the tower, by this point, his men having put the tower to the torch, after fighting off the Lannisters.

    Harren proceeded with dozens of his reavers at his side to meet the attacking force at the breach.

    Riding by him, Thorwin Greenbane and his unit of horse charged forth to confront the foe.

    The battle had seemingly changed now, as the breach was the main point of entry for the attackers, and as such, the defenders were forced to charge forward, attempting to contain the leak.

    At the gatehouse, a large battering ram, with an iron stag's head had arrived at the gate. The defenders threw rocks at the men below, but those pushing the ram were protected by a cured hide roof, curving over them, making the rocks and arrows bounce off, while they pounded the large wooden doors, backed by an iron portcullis. The doors began to crack, as the blows were seemingly constant.

    Sigmund knew that to use hot oil would render the possibility of fire destroying the outer door, and risk spreading into the gatehouse, so he refused the request, by the Greyjoy men.

    The defenders had seemingly won the battle on the battlements—though it seemed only to be a distraction for the intention of a wall breach, gained at the south end.

    As the first attackers poured in, Thoros of Myr slashed his way threw several Greyjoy soldiers, his sword doused in lit wildfire. The remnants of the wildfire solution splashed off the sword with every strike causing a burst of fire onto each soldier he swung at.

    Lord Jorah followed quickly behind Thoros, and engaged in melee with the first soldier he came across. Dozens upon dozens followed quickly in suit, and within minutes, hundreds of soldiers were engaged in fighting.

    Harren arrived with his reavers, and they met a large contingent of disengaged fighters, who sought to confront them.

    Harren charged in, both hands on his great maul, he brought it down in precision connection with the first soldier's helm—a Lannister soldier—the connection causing an inordinate flow of blood from the man's mangled skull, as his head practically exploded from every orifice with blood, and he dropped the the dirt as quickly as the blow had landed.

    Harren then took the maul in one hand, and let out an enormous war cry as he jabbed the next soldier from a distance with the head of his maul, sending the soldier back to the dirt, utterly winded.

    He two-handed swung left and connected with an engaged soldier, breaking his back with the swing, and then just as easily, he swung right, his mighty swing connecting with the leg of another engaged soldier, smashing out the knee, and causing the soldier to blurt out obscenities in agony, and collapse to the dirt, as he was impaled by a reaver's spear.

    Another soldier charged at Harren, spear in two hands. Harren grabbed the head of the spear, just past the blade, and heaved the soldier forward, using the soldier's own momentum, Harren took his maul by the neck of the head, and jabbed the soldier, the collision meeting the combined momentum of both the soldier and Harren's forward force, smashing in the soldier's visor with such force, it crushed in the visor and snapped the soldier's neck straight back, dropping him instantly, and lifeless.

    Harren continued on fighting, with his reavers by his side, as Thorwin dismounts off his horse and swings his mighty war ax at his first grounded foe, striking him in the stomach, blowing past the chain mail that protected him, he spun around and ripped the ax head out of the soldier, exposing a large opening in the man's stomach, causing blood and intestines to spew out slow and consistently, as the soldier reached down with both hands to hold it in, dropping to his knees, Thorwin kicked the man in the head, causing him to fall back, exposing his ripped open stomach and the squirting of blood from numerous exits.

    Up on the wall above, Skywald had begun to run down the wall, to help at the breach, but was confronted by men still using ladders.

    As the first soldier—bearing the brown armor of a Stark, with a dire wolf sigil—leaped through the crenellations and charged at him, Skywald drew a single arrow and fired it into the man's face—as the Stark men used only a simple helm, with an open face—the arrow struck the man in the eye, and he dropped his sword, dropping to his knees in sheer pain, Skywald kicked him aside, the man rolled off the battlement, into the courtyard below. Another climbed up, and was just at the crenellation opening, when Skywald notched another arrow, drew, and released, striking the man in the neck, causing him to fall forward into him, Skywald used the man's falling momentum to throw him forward, off the battlements, into the courtyard below.

    A third soldier took an overarm slash down at Skywald, missing him by an inch past his left shoulder, Skywald turned and put his left shoulder into the sword, ejecting it from the man's grasp, as he wedged it against a crenellation. Turning, he drew a throwing dagger from his chest strap and stuck it right into the man's neck, causing the soldier to grab at the dagger impaling his neck, and he fell in and onto the battlements, and rolling in agony, coughing up blood, and choking.

    Paying no never mind to an already dead man, Skywald charged to the ladder, notching another arrow, drew it, and released it, from above, into the soldier's exposed neck, the arrow going deep into the soldier's chest, causing him to released his grip on the ladder, falling right back, his feet kicking the next soldier below him, causing that soldier also to drop.

    Blindsided, a Baratheon soldier appeared from the nearby tower doorway, and charged at Skywald, but his peripheral vision caught movement, no time to notch, he drew a dagger, and jabbed the man in the chest, as the man tried to swing an ax at him. He guided the man, with the dagger firmly in his chest, and spun him around to the crenellation, using the man's weight and momentum, Skywald too used his left leg to boost himself against the Baratheon soldier, and the combined motion of both men was enough force to send the ladder back, the next soldier having nearly been up top, fell back, with the ladder, and two others on it, and it collapsed on top of them, as they all dropped, losing their handling.

    The Baratheon soldier bent over the side of the ladder, nearly off his feet, Skywald lifted the man's feet and flipped him off the battlements, before continuing down the wall to help his comrades.

    Sigmund, seeing the breach, ordered most his men in the gatehouse to proceed down the wall, cleaning up any men still left climbing, and those at the bottom to head over to the breach, to reinforce the defenders already engaged. He would in turn, keep a handful of men to hold the gatehouse, against the attackers, who relentlessly battered still, away at the gate, having made it through the wooden doors and now assaulted the closed portcullis.

    Sigmund took a spear from nearby and threw it below at an exposed attacker, striking him right through the upper chest, avoiding the brunt of the breastplate's protection.

    At the breach, Thorwin swung his ax around, striking three attackers, in a line. "Come on you flower fks!"

    Harren two-handed smashed his maul into a downed Tyrell soldier, crushing in his breastplate, as his ribs snapped in impaling him, internally, as the soldier instantly coughed up blood, and began to choke.

    North of the gatehouse, Redwul Stonetree commanded a steady group of defenders, as they continued battling a flanking army of Arryn men, trying to get in from an assumed defenseless part of the wall.

    Having already killed two dozen men, the old Redwul, in his sixties, has proven his worth as not only a commander, but also a mighty warrior. His force had dwindled since the fighting began, and the Arryn soldiers seemed to be innumerable, coming over in troves, despite every two killed, three more seemed to appear.

    Redwul brought his massive ax down on an Arryn soldier, splitting his torso, between shoulder and neck, down six inches into his chest. With a mighty kick, he shoved the dead soldier back, off the battlements, and freeing his ax, he turned in time to react to another soldier charging at him, the spearhead hitting Redwul's armor in the hip—though double chain mail prevented impalement—Redwul quickly returned a full swing from the right distance, as the man was near a meter away with his spear tip stuck in Redwul's mail, he had connected with the soldier's neck dead on, severing his head, and sending it flying into the courtyard—the soldier dropping like a rag doll to the battlements.

    Redwul's men continued to defend verse a greater number of attackers, for the time being...

    Skywald had passed through the middle south tower, and as he proceeded through the tower, just past the tower, Greyjoy soldiers were engaged with Lannister soldiers climbing the ladders, and the battlements were nearly lost, with the overflow of enemy troops.

    He notched an arrow and fired it into a Lannister soldier's back, and notching another, he repeated the shot to a second Lannister soldier. Moving forward in attack, he notched a third, and this time, the soldier was running at him, he shot it straight through the eye slit, in the helm, notching a fourth arrow, he loosed it in the same fashion upon another Lannister soldier, dropping him as well, and he continued to empty his quiver on soldiers climbing over, in an attempt to alleviate the overabundance of enemy soldiers overwhelming his comrades on the battlement, while casually retrieving some of his arrows, to prevent himself from using up his arsenal.

    Down below, Harren reached in, grabbing a helpless Lannister soldier by the head, as he was already knelt, he snapped the soldier's neck, throwing the man's torso down to the ground.

    Then, as other soldiers were hesitant to move in on him, as he had killed dozens already at the breach, a knight of the Kingsguard stepped forth, shoving a Stark soldier to the ground, and causing the others to back away, the Kingsguard approached Harren, his two-handed claymore drawn, and up in both hands.

    Harren held his maul in one hand, and half-circled the Kingsguard, who stood in a ready stance, following Harren's movement.

    Harren let out a roaring laugh. "I took one of your brethren at Lordsport a few days ago. Are you looking to the same fate?"

    The Kingsguard dropped his pose, and half-circled Harren, as well. "You must be Harren the Red... I am Ser Adylmon Rowan of the Kingsguard," he said, with a stern monotone. "And my brother will be avenged today, you savage mongrel."

    Harren belted out in increasing laughter. "You know me, yet I do not know you. To me, your nothing more than a fancy pk behind a fancy mask, as was your brother. Perhaps I will keep your helm as a trophy as well."

    The knight charged forth and took a swipe down at the immense Ironborn, who parried with a his maul shaft.

    Ser Adylmon took a swing now, and as such, his attack was parried with the maul shaft.

    After several interchangeable attacks, and each one parried, Ser Adylmon had begun to show signs of wear.

    His misstep during one of his lunges was read, and Harren drew him too close for the claymore to be adequately swung, and he butted the knight in the helm with the pommel of his maul, sending him to the dirt.

    Ser Adylmon was quick to recover, despite the embarrassment in front of the observing soldiers.

    Taking a couple more swings, and foolishly wearing himself further, Ser Adylmon's attacks grew sloppy, and Harren waited for that moment, for the opportune lunge.

    Finally, Ser Adylmon made another attempt to charge right towards the lightly armed (in comparison) Harren, and his sword was easily deflected past the warrior, who got the knight close, grabbing him in the neck, shoving his head back, exposing it, he squeezed the knight's throat, putting his maul behind the knight's back, pulling him close and keeping him in place—his sharp and uncut nails splitting the man's neck, until his fingers broke right through the throat—his immense strength rightfully accommodating his firm grip, he pulled out the man's throat, tongue, tissue, and muscle, he drew it all out, as the Kingsguard was silent, his vocal cords ruptured, an explosion of blood, cartilage, and muscle hung out, as the knight dropped to the ground, in silent pain, his life slowly slipping away, he was enveloped with tremulous shakes, as he clung to sifts of survival.

    Harren let out a bloodthirsty war cry, and the other soldiers shook, as they subconsciously stepped back, away from the monster of a man.

    A knight pushed through the cowardly soldiers, and came forth to confront Harren. The man—bearing the sigil of the twin towers of House Frey—he charged at the monstrous warrior, his sword raised.

    Harren, aiming to make a clear example, did not toy with this one, he slowly lifted his maul, in his right hand, by the neck of it, and easily deflected the overhand strike, letting the soldier slip past him, but quickly releasing his maul midair, and then grabbing it by head, in his left hand, and the end of the shaft in his right, he brought it down, jabbing the knight in the back of the legs, forcing him to collapse to the ground, his sword released and had fallen several feet away from him.

    The man, wailed in pain, as Harren turned to look at the petrified soldiers looking on, he took his maul rightfully, head in the right hand, he swung a monstrous motion, the maul overhead—his right hand sliding down the shaft to meet his left—he connected the head of his giant maul with the back of the knight's helmet, crushing it completely, following through with his signature war cry, and forcing a pool of blood to erupt from the ear holes of the helm.

    The knight's left leg twitched, but he was dead as can be.

    As he turned to face the soldiers around him, his reavers charged forth—the lot of the soldiers slightly stunned and unresponsive—the reavers made quick work of them, and the fight continued.

    Harren was attacked from behind, but turned in time to swing his maul and connect with the side of the soldier's helm, forcing the man's head a hard jerk, snapping his neck, and dropping him in turn.

    Back up on the wall, Skywald, with the arrival of several other soldiers coming up to relieve the battlements of the foe, was able to push the enemy back off the wall, and with the help of several Greyjoy soldiers, they were able to rid the wall of most attackers, whilst taking fire through the crenellations, by other archers, they set two docked towers alight.

    Skywald hid behind one crenellation, waiting to see a volley pass through, or over the openings, and pecking the wall behind him, he notched and drew, spinning around, he fired and hit an archer n the chest, notching another before they could react, he fired a second arrow, striking a second archer, before ducking behind the crenellation next to him, for cover. Repeating this maneuver several times, Skywald was able to kill a dozen archers, with his methodical maneuvering, forcing them to break for the wall, for cover.

    As two Greyjoy men ran for the tower, the attackers had taken the battlements north of the middle tower, and began pouring through the tower doorway. The first Greyjoy soldier was impaled with a Lannister spear, the second Greyjoy having buried his ax into the neck of the Lannister soldier, but he himself also receiving a spear from the second soldier. Bending to one knee, Skywald loosed a drawn arrow, striking the second soldier in the neck, forcing him back into the tower doorway. His quiver was now noticeably depleting.

    At the gatehouse, the rock frame of the portcullis had begun to give way, from the constant ramming. There were noticeable dents in the iron gate, and ladders lining both walls aligned with the gatehouse were climbed with little resistance. With less than a dozen men left at the gatehouse, Sigmund called for all men on the ground to seal the doors of the adjacent towers, from the bottom, and ascend for a last stand in the upper level of the gatehouse. Sigmund finished the last of his horn of wine, and went into a berserk frenzy.

    Two Arryn men barged through the side doorway of the upper gatehouse, from an undefended battlement and the first was met with dual war axes between the neck and shoulders. He dropped, and Sigmund grabbed the other soldier's sword handle, ripping it out of his hand, before he could act, and removing his helm, he took the soldier by his long hair and smashed his head into a stone pillar, repeatedly, splitting his head open, killing him.

    Two more came in and he threw one to the ground, and grabbed the other pushing his head back and punching him in the throat, the man dropped, gasping for air.

    He took the soldier's spear and kicked the first soldier back down to the ground, as he attempted to rise up. He then thrust his spear into the back of the fallen soldier, then with his knee, he snapped the spear in two—using the broken spear, he approached the soldier gasping for air, and stabbed him in the throat with it, multiple times. "That'll open your airway, boy!"

    A soldier entered, spear in hand charging forth to him, but Sigmund grabbed it and deflected it by, charging the man, lifting him up by the waist and slamming him head first into the ground—the strength of the man to lift such weight with mail—he pulled the man's neck back, and jerked it suddenly, snapping it.

    From behind, Sigmund turned, noticing a Greyjoy soldier coming through the door, he nodded. But behind him, a man leaped over the crenellations onto the battlement and he pulled the Greyjoy's cape, forcing him back, dagger drawn, he slit the Greyjoy soldier's throat.

    Sigmund drew one of his axes out of the dead Arryn soldier, only to have the brute of a soldier, bearing the sigil of a black fish, with a blue Arryn falcon below it, the two men met ax against sword, forcing each other's strikes low, Sigmund headbutted the helm-less soldier—whom he figured a knight, based on his personal sigil—he charged forth, tackling the grey-haired knight to the ground.

    The grey-haired knight used Sigmund's charging momentum and launched him over, flipping him. The two got up and the grey-haired knight charged at him, punching Sigmund in the face, with a mailed glove, he broke his nose.

    Sigmund stumbled back, wiping the blood off his face, onto his sleeve, he blocked the next punch and slammed his elbow into the knight's stomach causing him to grasp, slightly. The knight put Sigmund in a headlock, and ran his head into a crenellation, repeated times. Eventually pulling himself away from the constant motion, Sigmund scooped his arm under the knight's right leg, and threw his weight down, in a roll, flipping the knight nearly off the battlements. The knight quickly gained his composure, and climbed back up, having only his legs gone over, the two men came back to blows, each striking the other several times.

    The grey-haired knight charged and lifted Sigmund into the air, slamming him onto his back. The two of them reached for an arrowhead nearby, rolling back and forth for it.

    The grey-haired knight headbutted Sigmund, who was underneath, and propelled himself out to the arrowhead, grabbing it, he turned back, slicing Sigmund across the face. Sigmund grabbed the grey-haired knight by the throat, locking one of his arms in, and his other hand grabbed the knight's wrist to keep the arrowhead away—both men bleeding profusely, and exhausted—rumbled for control.

    Down below, the last Greyjoy soldier was put down by two Arryn men, as they finished him, one jabbing with spear, the other—his sword.

    The men looked on, with other Arryn soldiers arriving, and they began cheering on their commander. "Come on Blackfish!"

    Sigmund grunted and gasped, as he tried to overpower the Blackfish, who slowly brought the arrowhead in, overpowering the mighty warrior.

    Slowly, Sigmund's strength waned, and the Blackfish drew closer to his throat with the arrowhead, eventually getting it there, he stuck it in, slowly, Sigmund let out a bloodcurdling grunt. His strength gave way, and the Blackfish stuck the arrowhead deep into Sigmund's head, it entered under his tongue, and proceeded to the brain, with a furious jerk forward, the duel was over. Sigmund Surehands was dead, and the gatehouse lost.

    North of the gatehouse, the isolated Redwul Stonetree and what men of his remained were being quickly overwhelmed. The old man's age had finally crept up on him, as he sweltered inside the immense amounts of armor.

    From behind, an ax connected with his back, but the two layers of chainmail prevented entry, only knocking him to the ground. The soldier jumped on top of him, and drew a dagger to finish him off. With all his energy, Redwul rolled over, causing the soldier to lose his balance and fall off.

    Taking a nearby hatchet, Redwul came over and down on the soldier's neck, burying it deep in, permitting only a slightly uttered gasp.

    He struggled to raise himself up, and he was hit by two arrows, neither impaling him, one just catching inside his tunic.

    Reaching down, he drew a simple, one-handed ax up, and charged at several Arryn men, he was able to parry and strike dead two, with a move on each, but the third sidestepped him, and whacked him in the head with the shaft of his spear, sending the old master-at-arms of Pyke crashing to the ground. Completely out of breath and utterly exhausted, Redwul rolled onto his back—the last of his men having a sword withdrawn from his chest, nearby—it was over. The soldier stood over him, and aimed the spear over his face, delivering the killing blow through his mouth.

    Back at the breach, the battle was intense—it was the last stand left in the battle for the courtyard of Pyke Castle. The Greyjoy men's numbers sorely depleted, only the most capable fighters remaining.

    Skywald had drawn his last arrow, from his quiver, and aimed it down, off the battlement, he fired it right into the side of the neck of one of the attacking soldier's.

    The last of the Greyjoy men overwhelmed on the walls, Skywald was charged from both sides, and he drew a throwing knife and threw it at one of the soldier's, striking him in the cheer, before grabbing an arrow from the neck of a fallen foe, he jumped off the battlement onto a wooden roof cover below, rolling off it, onto the ground, he got back up. He was charged by a stray soldier, and he notched his arrow, drew it, and fired, striking the soldier through directly in his right eye, the arrow would have been too deep to withdraw, he tossed his bow down, and drew two of the three remaining throwing knives at his disposal, he threw one at another oncoming soldier, striking him in the groin and then he finished him with the second knife.

    A knight approached him, bearing a personal sigil, he drew his sword, shield in offhand, and speedily approached Skywald. Skywald tossed his last knife, which was blocked with the knight's shield, and so, his last remaining defense, he threw off his quiver, and drew a slung flanged mace, from his back, dodging a shield bash, he parried the sword, with his mace.

    Thorwin buried his ax into the heavy armor of a Lannister soldier, and it had gotten seemingly fused with the bones of the soldier, and he couldn't pry it out. As such, a spear impaled his stomach, from the side. He grabbed the spear, pulled it further in, his other hand on the soldier's throat, and he snapped the back of the spear off, taking the tipped end, he thrust it into the soldier's throat, with a loud war cry.

    Three more spears were quickly put threw his back, and the mighty Thorwin Greenbane dropped to the ground.

    Another knight of the Kingsguard approached Harren, removing his helm, he threw it to the ground, his blond hair swaying in gust of the wind coming up off the nearby cliff.

    "Now you can see who your fighting, pirate," said the knight. "I am Ser Toddric Sarsfield—"

    "Of the Kingsguard?" Harren abruptly interrupted, laughing maniacally. "And how much did your father pay for your knighting?"

    "Pure merit, filth. Pure merit," replied the bold Ser Toddric.

    "And this will be your defining moment, will it? This is what you will have next to your name in the history books?"

    "Your reign of banditry will end here, cur."

    "Such hostile words. Certainly your sword speaks louder than your arrogance, I hope," replied Harren, as he tightened the grip on his maul.

    The knight proceeded forward, his sword meeting the head of the Harren's maul, waved around with one hand. It was, so far, the best fighter he had faced yet, on Pyke. The two met clashing blows swiftly and with perfect cohesion.

    The knight made relentless swipes, left, right, left, right, giving no sign of letting up on the giant warrior's backing up, step by step.

    After nearly a minute of intense blows and parries, Ser Toddric made his fatal error, when he swiped down, and miscalculated Harren's step, who easily dodged the attack, and locked the sword to the ground with the bottom of his foot, taking his maul by the head, he smashed the sword in two, and kicked the knight back—the knight having stumbled over himself—fell to the ground, what was left of his sword, he had dropped. Harren dropped his maul, and grabbed the dual shortswords—still sheathed behind his back—and waited for the knight to pick up a new sword.

    Ser Toddric grabbed for the claymore of a fallen soldier, and lunged forward striking blow after blow, of which Harren evaded with fine reaction.

    Ser Toddric again came too close to him, and Harren drew both swords, crossing them in front of him, to block the claymore strike, he twisted his arms, causing Ser Toddric to lose his composure, he spun, until the two were back to back, and he flipped the short swords around in his hands, and jabbed them with ultimate force into his opponent's back, sending them straight through his the openings in his plate, where mail substituted. Ser Toddric let out a lasting gasp, as Harren released the swords, still inside his back, Ser Toddric stumbled forward. Harren returned to retrieve his maul.

    Ser Toddric gasped and blood bubbled at his lips, pouring in a small line out of his mouth, he whispered. "Help me..."

    The men around did nothing, as Harren picked up his maul, in one hand, he walked over to the Kingsguard and, with sure step, he spun around, gripping his maul in both hands, and delivered a mighty blow with his maul, right to the right side of Ser Toddric's head—exploding it, as if it were a melon with a mallet—and the shards of skull fragments and brain matter, with the other assorted facial mess hitting soldiers in its pathway.

    The body limp and headless, dropped to the dirt, the swords left in the back.

    The battle continued, intensifying, as soldier after soldier, knight after knight was eliminated, creating a kaleidoscope of assorted sigils and colored tunics all over the courtyard.

    Of the nearly 1,500 defenders, all but a few dozen remained.

    Skywald was forced up the steps by the knight affronting him. A Lannister soldier descended from atop the stairs, and instead of being caught between the two, Skywald charged up, dodging a sword swipe, he launched an uppercut with the mace, right into the soldier's groin, grabbing him and tossing him headfirst off the battlements, into the courtyard below. At the top, another soldier tried to spear him, but he dodged the jab, and broke the spear with the mace, and delivered a facial blow to the soldier, knocking him back onto his rear. He jumped on top of him and wailed on his face with the mace, repeatedly.

    The knight finally made it up the steps and came for him, and Skywald continued to parry strike after strike, as he was backed up, along the wall.

    Dagon Deathward mounted up on horseback, and rode for the gatehouse of the entry to the inner yard of Pyke Castle, fleeing the remainder of the force left behind.

    Ser Jaime Lannister impaled a Greyjoy soldier with his sword, drawing it back, he hit him with the hilt of his sword, sending him down to the ground, and moving onto the next. The next Greyjoy soldier—who had likely defeated a few dozen others in this battle—was outdone in two short parries and a strike, and Jaime finished him, by severing his head.

    Finally, he aimed to confront Harren.

    Skywald, near the edge, and watched by hundreds below, had no choice but to fight the knight in front of him, and so he crossed sword and mace, for several strikes, eventually losing grip of the mace, after several quick strikes, from the knight, including the final one, which severed his hand, when the blade struck it against the stone of the battlements. Blood gushed out, with an unforgiving flow out of his wrist, and he put his back against the crenellation, looking out at what Ironborn remained fighting, he took a swallow, a deep breath, and looked to the floor of the battlement, breaking a smirk. "What is dead may never die," he said under his breath, smiling.

    The knight stuck him through the side, just behind his arm, right through his chest, the tip coming out the other end, his mouth filled with blood, and his teeth reddened by it. The knight withdrew the sword, and Skywald fell off the side of the battlement, onto the rubble of the collapsed south tower.

    Wasting no time, Jaime began strike upon strike, which were parried and deflected, with relative ease by the brutish Ironborn warrior.

    Overly confident in his own strength and skill, Jaime quickly grew careless with his strikes, believing himself invulnerable, he slipped up, and put his sword too close, within grabbing range, and without drawing it back quickly, Harren grabbed it, and pulled him forward, striking him in the shoulder with his maul, and punching him in the helm with his free fist, Jaime went down to one knee, but retained control of his sword, once released by Harren.

    Jaime shook his head, as he had not yet been handled with such relative easy, as he felt he had been by this man.

    He continued a fury of attacks, again slipping up, and this time, Harren jabbed him in the knee, with his maul, and then the chest, dropping him to his knees, and kicking him in the head, sending him to the ground, his sword fallen out of his grasp, Harren approached with the killing blow, his maul swinging down, when a sword came out of nowhere, with just enough force to redirect the falling blow to the ground beside Jaime. The thunderous collision sure would have been Jaime's end, had it struck him.

    Harren was disheveled, slightly, by the abrupt interruption.

    The man behind the sword was Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, whom separated Jaime and Harren, as Jaime remained still, embarrassed, and rather foregoing death than insult.

    "You interfere with a duel? What cowardice, you impudent wretch," Harren declared, angrily.

    Ser Barristan Selmy grabbed the wounded Jaime, and dragged him away, with the assistance of Ser Lymond Vikary.

    "Not today, Captain," Ned responded, identifying the Ironborn by his proper title.

    The Ironborn warrior was furious and openly attacked Lord Eddard. Several soldiers intervened, knowing that none could defeat him alone, and he went into a frenzy swinging his maul like a madman.

    He rounded it and struck a Lannister soldier in the head, sending him flipping over—a killing blow—and around the other way, where his maul connected with a Stark soldier, and after putting down a few others, a lone Stark soldier struck the giant Ironborn through the leg with a spear.

    Harren stretched out his arm, grabbing the soldier, and pulling him close, he pulled him right down on top of himself, gripping the soldier's helm tightly, snapping his neck with a wicked jerk.

    As he raised himself up, throwing the soldier off him, two crossbowmen fired, striking him twice in the chest. Still, the mighty Ironborn warrior picked himself up, on one knee, he began to raise himself up onto his two feet, and was struck again, twice more, by two more crossbow bolts, forcing him to spit out some blood, accumulated in his mouth.

    Eddard stood back, his sword tip dropped to the ground, he watched the man fight all odds.

    With four bolts in his chest, and a spear in his leg, Harren used his strength to propel himself up to his feet, bending over, he snapped the spear in his leg, tossing the broken shaft to the ground.

    From behind, a soldier approached him, and the mighty warrior turned, grabbing the soldier, he threw him a dozen feet away, as a couple others attempted to move in, he deflected some more attacks, catching a spear straight up his arm, splitting it open, he grabbed the soldier by the breastplate, and tossed him down to the dirt, as he was impaled through the back by a spear, which cleared through his chest, and he let out a roaring yell, dropping to one knee, the spear being driven further in, until he was fully on his knees, and his torso wobbled forward, spitting out a mouthful of blood, the line of drool seemingly gushed out, and the mighty war captain fell forward, as the spear tip was stuck in the ground, he was held up by the spear, slowly the weight of his body pushed forward, pushing the spear back out, until he was a foot away from the ground, crouched on his knees, the last jerks of livelihood causing him to twitch, slightly, until he was still.

    In what would have been a celebratory victory, in any other ending, there was not a sound emitted by any present.

    Further away, men celebrated, and cheers were heard, but those present here felt they had little to celebrate, and they began walking back to the battlements.

    Two Lannister men approached Harren's maul, nearby, and reached down for it, but Eddard intervened. "No. Leave it," he said, believing in the purity of fallen warrior and his honor.

    The two Lannister men moved towards Eddard, but several Stark soldiers stepped beside him.

    Jaime Lannister spoke out. "You heard Lord Stark. Leave it," he reaffirmed. The two Lannister soldiers turned and walked away.

    Eddard looked to an injured Jaime, and then away. He began walking back to the battlements.

    The Greyjoys had been defeated, and the majority of what army they had left, obliterated.



    THE GATEHOUSE


    At the gatehouse, King Robert and his escort approached, with a contingent of several hundred soldiers, and two Kingsguard, flanking him one on each side.

    As he walked through the gatehouse, Robert beheld the carnage first hand. Hundreds of corpses littered the courtyard, whereas half as many were in front.

    He ordered his escort to remain outside the gatehouse, as he went in alone, followed at a short distance by two Kingsguard. The full brunt of the battle had now been felt, and he took a deep breath, looking around the immense courtyard, at the hundreds upon thousands of bodies laid about.

    "By the Gods," Robert said under his breath, taking in the gruesome scenery.

    At the gatehouse, Ser Brynden Tully approached, and greeted Robert. "Pyke is yours, Your Grace."

    Robert looked upon the man, battered and bloody. "Ser Brynden, you look like st."

    "No, I feel great, Your Grace," Brynden replied, facetiously.



    AFTERMATH


    King Robert chose now to starve the Greyjoy host out of the formidably impenetrable islets composing the majority of the castle.

    With a standing force of a couple hundred men remaining, in the castle, Balon knew the war was lost, and swore fealty to King Robert, shortly after the battle, and his only surviving son, Theon, was made a ward of House Stark, in Winterfell.

    Shortly after the battle, Dagon Deathward was reported drowned, after he had taken a fall from a rope bridge, in the inner castle.

    Harren the Red was proclaimed a hero by the Ironborn, and his legend would endure, forever...

  4. #4
    ggggtotalwarrior's Avatar hey it geg
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    Default Re: Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

    Ahhh. I didn't make it with any of my submissions. All the submissions I voted for made it through, so I'd be really pissed if it turned out my vote knocked me out (but I highly doubt that I got that many votes)

    Very tough vote here. It'll take a bit of time for me to decide.

    Congrats in advance to the eventual winner!
    Rep me and I'll rep you back.

    UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF THE KING POSTER AKAR

  5. #5
    pacifism's Avatar see the day
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    Default Re: Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

    Voted.
    Read the latest TWC Content and check out the Wiki!
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    ImperialAquila's Avatar Domesticus
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    Default Re: Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

    Voted.

  7. #7
    Riverknight's Avatar Last of the Romans
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    Default Re: Summer 2013 Scriptorium Writing Competition - Final Vote Thread

    voted
    Last edited by StealthFox; September 23, 2013 at 11:55 AM.

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