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Thread: [Westeros] A Song of Turmoil

  1. #1

    Default [Westeros] A Song of Turmoil


    An AAR based on the Hotseat, Turmoil in the Cigar Lounge. Theon Greyjoy, with noticeably more balls than the canon Theon, returns to the Iron Islands to convince his father and the Iron Islands to raise the banners and destroy the Lannisters. The Young Kraken has his work cut out for him but will solider forward and carve out the greatest kingdom the Ironborn have ever known. House Lannister and anyone else that stands in his way will fall. We Do Not Sow.

    This is an alternative posting of an AAR I am working on that'll be updated at the following link - http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...ong-of-Turmoil - before it's updated here.

    Prologue: A New Beginning
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 
    Theon Greyjoy found himself oddly disappointed by the sight before him, Pyke, home of his father and his father before him, seemed small and not exactly the embodiment of safety and strength that he'd grown accustomed to from Winterfell. Pyke was dreary, nothing but a scrap of land jutting forth from the waters dotted with fishing villages under a sky darkened by a constant gloom, dark grey clouds blotted out the sun. The castle, though run-down in appearance, was built into the cliff face and overlooked the ocean. He couldn't help but pictured it crashing into the sea if the cliff was eroded any further. As his ship emerged from a heavy fog it was greeted by the smell of salt and rotting fish.

    Theon wondered how he'd be received. He knew his father, or at least what he could recall of him, had been a hard man not prone to expressing emotions beyond anger. But surely he'd brake at the victorious return of his only son and heir? With a mental shrug he tossed some coin to the ships captain as payment for the journey. "Captain," He began. "thank you for your service. The food tasted like dirt but at least I'm here in one piece." Theon smirked at his own jest. "Good day, Captain!"

    Without bothering to turn around to look for what would've been a look of indignation on the captains face, Theon bounded onto the pier and processed to find a horse. That was easy enough, as the old man he'd found slumped off to the nearby stables to fetch a mount, leaving Theon alone to admire the view. The view was dreary and smelled of fish. When the old man returned Theon tied down his bag of what little belongings he'd taken south onto the horses flank, leaped into the saddle, and set off for Pyke.

    "Theon Greyjoy, and my business is none of your concern." He told the guards at the gates when they'd asked his name and business with Lord Greyjoy. They'd fallen over themselves trying to welcome him after that, he made for an imposing figure attired in black trousers of sturdy linen, and a grey-and-black doublet of finer material. His only ornament was the Lannister brooch which held his black cloak in place, a small souvenir that he'd borrowed from Jaime Lannister after the Whispering Woods.

    Walking through the halls very little seemed to have changed from what little memories he had of growing up here. The color 'bleak grey' was apparently all the rage.

    After he was escorted through the halls he reached the doors to the great hall, which were open and pouring light into the otherwise dark corridor. Theon stepped inside and noticed several things at once. First, his eyes went to the high table where he saw his father, Lord Balon Greyjoy, for the first time in years. The man had changed little, perhaps growing even more stone-faced than Theon remembered, but losing a war and ones children Theon guessed would do that to any man. To Balon's right stood a women, more attractive than any other he'd seen on the islands thus far. Theon's uncles were here also, Victarion and Aeron. He identified a few others, like Harras Harlaw, wielder of the valyiran steel sword Nightfall. Several other powerful captains stood by also, watching from the sidelines.

    Theon decided that the only way to address his father would be head on, as showing fear or hesitating would get him nowhere. He set his shoulders and strode forward into the hall, back erect and the kraken emblazoned proudly upon his chest. His cloak was thrown back over his shoulder to display his castle-forged longsword and the brooch he'd claimed in the Whisper Woods glinted in the light of the nearby roaring fire. As he approached the table, he called out, "Lord Balon!"

    The voices in the room fell silent at his interruption, heads turning to greet the new arrival. Lord Balon's eyes widened visibly in surprise, but his voice remained emotionless.

    "Theon."

    Theon bowed respectfully. "Father. I have come-"

    "-Dressed like a whore?" His father interrupted and the hall erupted into laughter. His uncle Victarion pounded on the table with his fist, joining in with the others. Aeron remained silent.

    Theon waited for them to stop, silently fuming. Clearing his throat, he continued, -"I have come as an emissary from the King in the North, Robb Stark. He would ask that you fight beside him against the false king, Joffrey Waters."

    Lord Balon stood, staring down his son. "So, your nothing but Starks lapdog now?"

    "I fight with Robb because I choose to, no man makes that decision for me!" Theon roared in reply. Why he cared what this old kraken thought of him was a strange thing, the man was abandoned him, his last living son. Why should he care now what he thought of him?

    Balon spat on the ground. "That whores ornament of yours: did you pay the iron price?"

    Theon snapped. "You dare question my courage, old man? You, who cowered behind high walls and failed to keep your own blood safe?" He drew his steel and pointed it towards the man that claimed to be his father. "I paid the iron price for this gold father, with this very sword and the blood of lannister filth!"

    The hall fell silent, none daring to speak before their lord. Victarion was the only one to react, beaming with a smile.

    Theon continued, having lowered his sword to his side. "King Robb would have your friendship, father, and your alliance. But what he wants is your ships and for the west to be burnt to ashes, one way or another. House Lannister will fall, with or without you, that must I swear to the Drowned God..."

    Victarion stood up from his seat, the commander of the iron fleet was an enormous man. After what seemed to Theon like an eternity, he grabbed Theon completely off guard and hugged him, one fist tousling his hair like he was a child. "This ones a Greyjoy alright, brother. No doubt about it."

    Aeron stood and spoke for the first time. "I must agreed, my lord. The boy is certainly worthy of the Drowned God."

    He turned to Theon. "Do you remember, boy, after so long in the greenlands?"

    "What is dead may never die." Theon responded without hesitation.

    Aeron might have smiled, but Balon stepped in, now shouting loudly. "This boy would have me bend the knee to another boy, who's father saw both of my sons dead, and my third made into a bloody women!"

    Theon's anger began to boil. "Aye. I love the family that laid you low. But they and I have been spilling blood while you hide behind your walls like the old craven you are! If you will not call your banners and reap the riches of the west, then perhaps it is time Pyke saw a new lord!"

    Suddenly his father laughed, a strange sound to say the least and what happens next was even stranger. Balon embraced him, and said loudly, "Now that is a Ironborn! More balls than brains or ability!" Theon was insulted, he had far more ability than this old kraken, but he'd accept the haft-insult for what it was. Acceptance.

    The entire hall shook his laughter and Theon sheathed his sword, Balon smiling with approval of his son. Aeron came forward and clasped his hand while Victarion began enthusiastically pounding him on the hand with his hand. Suddenly the women from earlier was in front of him and she embraced him, to Theon's shock and confusion.

    "What's the matter, little brother?" She said with a devilish grin. "Afraid to hug your sister?"

    Theon pushed her away. "Wait-wait-wait... Asha?"

    She winked at him. "The one and only."

    His jaw dropped. "Your... different."

    "You mean, not horrendously plain?" She asked with enough sweetness to kill. "Don't strain yourself, Theon. That changed about the time I received breasts."

    Theon, effectively embarrassed, turned back to his father and the high table where he was no offered a place of honor to the right of his father and left of his uncle Victarion. "So, what of Robb's offer father? The West is weak and ripe for the taking..."

    Balon huffed as he read the letter Robb has written for Theon to deliver, his expression did not inspire great confidence in the young krane. He knew in that moment, he should have proof-read the letter. "I am Ironborn. If I wish a crown I will take one, not accept one as a gift from some wolf pup."

    Theon replied, attempting to reason with his father. "A poor choice of words, what is meant is-"

    "What is meant is what is said." Balon spat, "The boy will give me a crown. And what is given can be taken away."

    "The West has far richer plunder." Victarion joined his voice to the others present, giving a nod to Theon to indicate that they agreed on the matter.

    Balon sighed, clearly tired. "What word from the Rock?"

    "The lion has agreed to your demands." Euron stepped out of the shadows, speaking for the first time since the meeting had taken place.

    "I thought he was exiled?" Thought thought to himself and tried to hide his shock, eyeing Victarion to his wide whom was clearly unhappy to see his elder brother alive or simply at all. "Demands?" Theon barked, "Your seriously considering working with those bastards over Robb?"

    "Insurance to keep the lion off our back while the North bleeds." Balon smiled at his sons reaction. "I'll work with no greenlanders, boy."

    "You'll take their bribes however." Euron spoke again, causing a few hushed mutterings from others in the room.

    "Shut your mouth." Victarion snarled at his brother. "If you don't like it your welcome to bugger off back across the sea, and this time bloody well stay there!"

    "Enough!" Balon commanded. "If the lion fulfills it's end of the bargain we will spare it our wrath, for now. If it dose not we shall burn the West. Agreed?"

    "Agreed." Victarion said, slamming his axe on the table.

    "Agreed." Theon said with a sigh as he thought to himself. "The lions will never honor the deal... would they?"

    "Agreed." Euron smiled before turning around and storming out of the room.

    "Good," Balon declared. "we'll meet again tomorrow and go over the plans."

    Theon was about to make his way to discuss attacking the West with his father, sure that he could persuade him if he pushed the right buttons, when a crowd of various minor lordlings surrounded him, and subsequently forced the young kraken into a drinking game. It would be a long night, his father and the Lannisters would wait until morning.

    Several skins of wine and piss-poor ale later, Theon found himself stumbling back to find his father, leaning against his uncle Victarion who was in a similar state of drunkenness. As they lunged through the door to his fathers room Theon tired his best to focus through his drink-induced haze. His father was at his writing desk, Asha standing beside him with Aeron in the corner. "Have you considered my message?" Theon managed the words with little effort, this wasn't the first time in his life that he'd been drinking. Far from it in fact.

    Balon nodded slowly, seemingly unhappy about it. "I have. I had feared your time with Eddard Stark had made you soft, or forgetful about your heritage. But," his eyes laid on Theon's sword that hung from his belt. "you have proven I have nothing to fear it seems. Peraphs I should be thankful that the greenlanders have refined you into a man of salt and iron..."

    Theon kept his face blank. "Aye. But what of Robb's request? Will you go to war with me against the Lannister bastards?" His fingers rested on the pommel of his sword, desperately hoping that the answer would be-

    "The North-"

    "What dose the North have to offer?!" Theon's fists slammed down on the writing desk, loud as a thunder clap. "Snow and Ice? Who would know better than I? What madness would compel us to ignore the gold and riches on our very doorstep?"

    "I agree with the boy." Euron spoke with a devilish grin, once again appearing out of the shadows. "He's got more balls and brains than you Balon... perhaps he's mine and not yours?"

    "I agree father, the North offers us nothing." Asha's support was enough to tip the scales, Balon sighed in defeat.

    Victarion placed a hand on his brothers shoulder. "It was not the North who killed your sons brother, and besides the point both Eddard Stark and Baratheon are dead while Tywin remains free and proud. I stand with Theon. The boy has shown strength and with some training, the ability to wield that strength." Theon's uncle turned to face him with a smile. "You have my axe lad, best put it to good use as we burn the West to ashes. Your grandfather died fighting in the Reach, we own them blood too."

    Theon gave a nod in response. "In time uncle, for now we focus on the enemy at our door. We can discuss the future once Casterly Rock is naught but rubble."

    "We Do Not Sow." Balon said sternly, his way of agreeing.

    "We Do Not Sow." Theon smiled at his father. House Lannister's days were now numbered, the beginning of the end.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

    Chapter Link(s)
    Chapter 1: The Iron Tide
    Chapter 2: The Siege of Lannisport

    Video
    Westeros Hotseat: Turmoil

  2. #2

    Default Re: [Westeros] A Song of Turmoil

    Chapter 1: The Iron Tide
    Quarterly tenné and sable, four suns-in-splendor counterchanged. The banners of House Kenning flew proudly in the coastal winds atop the walls as the gold kracken of Greyjoy encircled the town, it's slimy tentacles crashing upon the walls like waves, smashing fear into the hearts of the inhabitants. Prince Theon Greyjoy stood in the siege lines and watched with longing as his men brought a ram down towards the enemies gates to begin the siege in earnest.

    Theon stood as stone, arrows from the towns garrison falling just out of his reach, "Are the defenses in position?" He addressed one of his men.

    "Yes my Prince," The man replied. "Lord Orkwood has fortified the pass and will send word if the Lion is foolish enough to attempt anything."

    "And the fleet?" Theon raised an eyebrow, a small part of him still questioning the plan despite assurances of it's success. One could say the young prince was quite paranoid.

    "In position, although if I may my Prince." The man awaited permission.

    "Speak your mind." Theon sighed, continuing to stare at the siege before him. The ram was at the gates now.

    "The plan is flawless, the lion cannot reach us by land or sea." The man spoke his mind, nothing Theon hadn't told himself. Still, he couldn't help consider all the possibilities, even the impossible ones. The Prince stood in silence, raising a hand to send the man away as he continued to watch the sun rise above the walls of Kayce, the garrison seemingly out of arrows and the populous now erupted into full chaos, the gates were about to fall as Prince Theon thought to himself with a wicked grin, "We Do Not Sow." With the gates fallen the few hundred men behind the prince waited with bated breath for the order to storm the gateway.

    Theon slowly drew his sword from it's scabbard, the steel shining in the new day sun. "What is dead may never die!" The Young Kraken cried, raising up his sword to signal the charge as his ironmen rushed the walls beside their prince. The garrison was pathetic, having ran out of arrows haft had began to flee while the others were rallied to the gate in a poor attempt to hold the iron tide at bay. Theon lead the charge, crashing into the measly shieldwall of the defenders and with the weight of his fellow ironborn, the wall crumbled apart with ease. What followed was a slaughter as the populous were with killed or if they were pretty enough, taken as salt wives.

    "Quickness is the essence of war." Theon recalled his uncles words of advice, having planned on being more cautious than this and delaying the siege until more men could be rallied. Victarion had laughed at the idea and suggested a swift strike before the lions could prepared. He was right in the end, and Theon was willing to admit that his uncle certainly knew what he was talking about. He'd be sure to listen to him for counsel in the fu-

    Theon cursed, narrowly ducking away from a bolt in flight. "Crossbows." He cursed the foes existence, however short lived, the man finding himself set upon by a number of Theon's men. An axe greeted his skull as the crossbowman desperately tried to reload his weapon while three or four ironmen charged at him with various curses. Theon had gained some respect from his men and they were not too happy to see the attempt made on his life.

    Ignoring all that, the battle was won as the tides swallowed the town and drowned most of it's inhabitants. House Kenning of Kayce was founded by Herrock Kenning, an ironborn warrior from House Kenning of Harlaw. During the decline of the driftwood kings of the ironborn, Herrock the Whoreson turned over to the Kings of the Rock for promises of gold and title. Theon had no mercy for these traitors. Kayce was burnt to ash and stripped of all value.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

    The West was entirely unprepared for the Iron Fleet and they now sat in a blockade outside of Lannisport. Victarion had left the sieges of Kayce, Faircastle and the Banefort to his nephew while he lead the bulk of the Isles forces against the heart of the Westerlands with the aim of striking hard and fast before the Lannisters could prepare. Unfortunately, it seemed somebody warned the lions of the assault and Casterly Rock was now entirely gated off from them. Victarion summoned his captains to the flagship.

    "That is quite the fortwall." Lord Blacktyde muttered, looking at the map laid out on the table and the markers that showed multiple forts spread out across the shore.

    "One would think Tywin's compensating for something." Euron said with his naturally dark smirk, gaining a few amused laughs from the gathered lords.

    Victarion was not amused, continuing to cruse his brothers return and Balon for allowing it. "This is no laughting matter, we cannot remain stuck here for long least-"

    "-the Tyrells show up." Euron finished his brothers sentence. "Yes, you've said that already."

    "Well then?" Victarion narrowed his eyes. "If you have an idea, brother, now is the time to speak."

    "Attack." Euron stated bluntly.

    "Attack." Victarion recalled who he was talking to. "Your insane, we'd be open to a slaughter."

    Euron shrugged, saying nothing else as the other lords offered their suggestions and bean squabbling among themselves, talk of plans quickly turning into talk of whom would lead the charge and whom would get the largest share of the loot from the famously rich Casterly Rock. "Enough!" Vicarion commanded, his voice silencing the room, nothing but the sound of seagulls and crashing of waves could be heard. "Does anyone have any useful suggestions?"

    Harras Harlaw, known as the Knight of Grey Garden, spoke for the first time. He'd sat silently in his chair up till now. "These lions are greedy," he stated with a blank expression. "perhaps one of these forts can be bribed?"

    "A gap in the armor." One of the other lords commented.

    Victarion made a mental note to hit himself later for not thinking of that. "Aye, if we've enough coin to tempt one of them."

    Ser Harras spoke again, in his usual steely manner. "Prince Theon has gained enough gold from sacking the coast, I'd think."

    "Perhaps." Victarion paused to think on the matter. His nephew would've taken the shoreline by now unless something terrible had happened, but it was a solid plan with little chance for error, there was little doubt that Theon had succeeded and sacked the towns and castle for everything they are worth. "Lannister greed may very well be the bane of Casterly Rock. I'll send word, the lad will be heading here regardless. He may as well bring his spoils."

    "To the Lannisters greed!" Lord Blacktyde raised his cup of wine up.

    The others quickly followed. "To the Lannisters greed!"

    It would be some time before Theon arrived with his troops, not to mention his spoils and ships. With the meeting at an end once the individual ship captains left the flagship Victarion began plotting what fort garrison would be best bribed to maximize efforts and open up Casterly Rock for the taking. If this worked Tywin Lannisters pride and authority would be shattered into a thousand pieces, and as Victarion ran his hand across the map he had an idea of how to make Tywin's wound twice as painful. Betrayal was a dish best served with lots and lots of Lannister gold. Victarion smiled genuinely for the first time in awhile, this was going to be fun.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

  3. #3

    Default Re: [Westeros] A Song of Turmoil

    Chapter 2: The Siege of Lannisport
    Cities were like women, Theon thought; each one had its own unique scent and Lannisport was a milkmaid, fresh and earthy, with woodsmoke in her hair. A heavy rain battered her cobbled streets, dimly lit by flickering whale-oil lamps as four figures in black hooded cloaks made their way through an alley towards one of the cities many gatehouses.

    "This is the one?" Theon asked, peeking around the corner of the alley to get a better look.

    "Aye," one of the figures replied. "it's the weakest. If we-"

    The man grunted as he was pushed against the wall of the alley, his hood falling aside to revel long golden locks, piercing emerald eyes and the beginnings of a beard. "This had better work boy," The third figure smiled at his prey, holding the young lion by the neck as he struggled against his assailants iron grip. "If this is a trap-"

    "Dagmer," Theon snarled. "put him down."

    With a deal of hesitation Dagmer Cleftjaw released his grip, the young lion slumping to the floor and catching his breath. "I gave Prince Theon my word!" He managed to growl, getting to his feet and looking at his muddied cloak with annoyance. "This gatehouse is the weakest in the city, just look for yourself." Theon had noticed it already, haft the guards on the walls were fake, straw men dressed in Lannister attire. At best the gatehouse held ten men... most sleeping or inside staying out of the rain.

    "The word of a Lannister," Dagmer spat. "How much is that worth I wonder..."

    "Twenty-two thousand gold dragons." Euron spoke from under the darkness of his hood, revealing himself as the fourth hooded figure.

    "Twenty-two thousand six hundred and fifteen," the lion attempted a smile. "to be exact."

    A silence washed over them at that and nothing but the rain and wind could be heard, and although none could see, under his hood Euron had smiled at the jest. "Are the men in position uncle?" Theon turned to ask, knowing the answer but letting his paranoid tendencies get the better of him.

    "Aye." Euron spoke, calm as ever outside of battle.

    "Thanks to my information," the lion paused. "any reinforcements shall be blocked off from being able to assist the garrison. I also informed Prince Theon of Lord Crakehall's position in the woods south of here so that he would be unable to interfere with the siege. My price may be steep, but there is enough gold in Lannisport to refill your- our coffers."

    Theon gave a slight nod to indicate his approval. "Your aid will not be forgotten, Lord Willam."

    Willam Lannister smiled at the title, his great price for betraying his kin and letting the ironborn seize his home. Theon had promised him Lordship of Lannisport and along with a sizable sum of gold to sweeten the deal. It was beyond ironic in truth, that Lannisport and soon enough Casterly Rock itself would fall because of Lannister greed.

    "Open the door." Theon motioned across the yard towards the gatehouse, bringing his bow up and notching an arrow.

    Willam gave a nod and processed across the opening, taking a long breath before knocking on the wooden door.

    "M'lord." The guardsmen that answered instantly recognized the golden hair and green eyes of a Lannister and in doing so lowered his guard.

    "At ease guardsmen." Willam offered a comforting smile. "May I?"

    The guard shook off his shock and stepped aside to let the lion though the door.

    "Undermanned?" Willam asked, scanning the room.

    "Aye, m'lord." The guard admitted as he turned to close the door behind them. "My brothers up on the wall with two others an-"

    The guardsmen went limp, an arrow between his eyes as Willam stopped his fall from making any noice, laying the corpse down silently as Dagmer and Euron moved into the room with their hoods lowered. Theon followed minus his cloak, bow in hand as he knelt down to pull the arrow out of the guardsmen skull. "Fine work, Will."

    "Thank you, my prince." Willam muttered, watching as Dagmer and Euron went their separate ways to various bedsides and began slitting the throats and cracking the skulls of those unlucky enough to be asleep. "A peaceful way to go at least." Willam thought as a hint of guilt gripped him. "He claimed others were patrolling the walls..."

    "How many?" Euron had returned, sword bloodied and a evil grin on his lips.

    "Three, perhaps more."

    "It no matter," Theon clasped Willam on the shoulder and smiled. "the city will be ours soon enough."

    "And then the bloody Rock itself!" Dagmer laughed, his axe dripping red.

    "Uncle, Dagmer," Theon addressed the two. "open the gate. I'll send the signal."

    The two departed up some stairs to the internal winch that would open the portcullis.

    "What is the signal?" Willam asked innocently.

    Theon looked at his newest lord. "I'll show you."

    The young kraken and lion made their way up to the ramparts where Theon pulled some cloth out from his pockets, attached it to an arrow and using a nearby brazier shot a flaming signal into the sky above Lannisport, the light dancing in the darkness. The hole city would see it, if they'd been looking upwards, but that wouldn't matter as within moments a group of around a hundred men appeared from the treeline beyond the walls, rushing towards the now opened portcullis. "That's how." Theon pushed past Willam and made his way back down to the gateway to greet his men with open arms. The first step in the plan was complete and it had gone without issue.

    Dagmer was found embracing several of the new men, almost as brothers, the old raider was much loved among the ranks. "The city is ours boys!"

    "Not quite," Willam stepped forward. "there remains much to do."

    "Lord Willam is correct." Theon stepped beside him, clad in his dark leathers.

    "That gold wasn't wasted I see." Ser Harras jested before moving to offer Willam a hand, one the young lion took hesitantly.

    "Harlaw." Theon grabbed the mans attention. "These are your men, are they ready?"

    "Aye, my prince." Harras grinned, slowly drawing his sword from it's scabbard. The blade was as dark as midnight with ripples doing down the steel and a moonstone pommel. Nightfall, the valyrian steel blade of House Harlaw stolen from a dead corsair by the Red Kraken during the Dance of Dragons. How it came into House Harlaw's possession was anyone's guess, but Theon assumed it had been a gift of some sorts. Harras held the blade up high and addressed his men. "Are you with me lads?!"

    The hundred or so ironborn replied heartily as their attention shifted to the nearby ringing of a bell tower rising the sleeping city. "The Storm is Coming!" Theon drew his own sword, less impressive next to Nightfall, but made of fine steel all the same. "Shall we flee from it lads?" Theon raised his voice as he pointed his steel at the men, thunder sounded in the background as the Storm God watched over the battle with eager eyes.

    "NO!" They roared, raising their axes and swords as they spoke.

    "Does the Storm Gods wrath frighten you?" Theon asked, hearing the distant sound of armored men coming down the main street towards them. It was part of the plan, grab the garrisons attention and lure them away from the docks to where they'd be expecting a full scale assault. They just had to hold long enough...

    "NO!" The men roared once more, shifting on the spot eager for battle as lightning lit up the sky.

    "Then come with me brothers!" Theon flourished his blade and gripped the handle, his knuckles white. "Come with me now and lets teach these craven bastards why they should fear the waves. The Storm God does not frighten us, for we are ironborn, and we do not sow!" Theon gave a nod to Harlaw whom moved his troops to the ends of the alleys to form a shieldwall. "Archers," Theon commanded. "with me!"

    The red cloaks of Lannisport rushed through the street blindly to the aid of what they assumed would be a ram and ironborn at the gates. What they saw was a wall of meat and steel standing in the way and as the lightning revealed, numerous archers behind them on the walls. A volley of arrows greeted the red cloaks and the shieldwall held eagerly.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 


    Victarion Greyjoy was standing on the deck of his ship at the head of the Iron Fleet, the lights doused, waiting for Lannisport to erupt in panic and chaos as they moved to defend the walls against the diversion force. Theon's plans had been bold, to say the least, but it was one that would earn the young prince his title in the eyes of those he'd one day rule. A great storm at picked up as the bells of Lannisport rang, a faint and oddly sad tone by the time it reached the fleet. Victarion smiled, it was time.

    At the sound of the bells the fleet wasted no time as the flagship set it's sails and stormed towards the docks with as much speed as it could muster, closing the gap between itself and the docks faster than the rest of the fleet. "Reavers!" Victarion spoke, his cruel axe waiting eagerly at his side. "With me!" Placing his great kraken helm over his head the armored kraken leapt the distance between his longboat and the pier, his men following without hesitation.

    The ironborn crashed into the red cloaks on the docks like waves upon rocks. Victarion side-stepped to dodge the first strike from the oncoming wave of Lannister fools, cutting through the shaft of a spear and then cutting the wielders throat with his back swing. Another cried out at the loss of his brother-in-arms, raising his sword high. Victarion grabbed the blade mid-swing with his plated gauntlet, instantly followed by a swift swing of his axe that caved the mans skull in two and caused him to be tossed aside like a ragdoll. Victarion split the skull of yet another red cloak in quick succession before continuing onward, a beacon to those ironborn on the pier behind him.

    He looked at the scene around him as Lannister men were cut down in droves, a slaughter more than a battle. All that remained was finding his nephew before it was too late.

    The red cloaks crashed into the shield wall, braking on axe and sword. "HOLD!" Harras cried, driving his sword outward in a stabbing motion. "WE HOLD!" Harras had taken with him experienced swords, the very best his homeland had to offer. These were true ironborn with years of experience. Behind Harlaw's wall Prince Theon had descended with his archers, having ran out of arrows. He took note of the three shield walls standing strong against the red waves, the largest holding the main street while two smaller ones held smaller alleys. It was Harlaws, the center, that was taking the brunt of the assault and looked ready to brake.

    "SHIELDS!" Theon commanded his archers, grabbing a large rounded shield from a fallen ironborn and locking in with his Harlaw's shield. A wall of steel was formed at the mouth of the street and would hold so long as breath remained in the ironborn. This however was not a battle they would win, unless Theon's uncle arrived soon.

    The clashing of steel and spilling of guts went on for barely a minute before the sound of shouts came riding on the western wind. "TO YOUR PRINCE!" A man screamed in the distance, his voice barely making it to Theon past the chaos of battle. After dropping another red cloak Theon sighted a glorious thing, that of his uncle storming through the street behind the red cloaks. Victarion's host locked their shields and began to slowly advance, slamming steel against shield to get the enemies attention. They chanted curses, mainly insulting the enemies mothers, causing the red cloaks fear to grow tenfold. They were surrounded.

    "PUSH!" Theon commanded, his shield wall advancing against a shocked and tired enemy. Step by step they gained ground and eventually connected with the second wall, merging into a single formation that continued to push back the enemy. "NO MERCY!" The voice of Prince Theon rang in the air as the invaders crushed what remained of the enemy. "VICTORY IS OURS!" It was been bloodier than Theon hoped, too many of his own had been killed or wounded. He'd envisioned a clearer trap but supposed that a victory was a victory. Lannisport was theirs and in the distance Casterly Rock stood undefended and ripe for the taking. Tywin Lannister would soon be known as the Lion that Lost the West.
    Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

  4. #4

    Default Re: [Westeros] A Song of Turmoil

    very enjoyable read thank you very much!

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