The Merlyn Expedition

[Poach]

Characters and Forces

The Ships of House Merlyn --- Theodan Merlyn, aboard the flagship Maelstrom (Sea Battle +3, Battle +1, Duel +2, Survival +2) --- 27 Ironborn Longships --- 10 Dromonds 'The Pebbleton Butchers' --- Uthor Merlyn (Battles +3, Pillage +2, Wealth +2) --- 900 Ironborn Reavers The Reavers of House Merlyn --- Haegon Merlyn (Battles +3, Pathfinder +2, Logistician +2) --- Criston Merlyn --- 700 Heavy Infantry --- 350 Archers --- 250 Light Cavalry

The small fleet of just shy of forty vessels set sail from Pebbleton, heading northwards. Emblazoned with the twisting water spires of House Merlyn, the four sons of Sargon took with them over two thousand good, strong men. Making for Bear Island, the Ironborn reaving fleet knew the ships of the Mormonts and Glovers were no match for their own fleet, and the paltry defences of Bear Island itself would falter and fail before the onslaught to be visited upon it.

Theodan, heir to Castle Pebbleton, lead the force overall and commanded the ships. The second son, Uthor, commanded 'The Pebbleton Butchers', House Merlyn's premier fighting unit and the envy of many a common reaver, while the other two sons commanded the rest of the Merlyn troops.

[Poach]

The first wave of ships ground ashore on the far-flung Northern island just outside a large fishing village. The Ironborn troops leapt from their ships and surged forwards onto the beach as the townsfolk fled to their hovels and the local Sept's bells began to toll the alarm.

"Shield Wall!" roared Uthor, pulling the shield from his back and bracing his feet in the sand. All around him dozens of men, then hundreds, formed up in three ranks, the first digging their shields into the ground with the other two ranks above those. The townsfolk, men and women as was custom of the Bear Isle folk, were now rushing down to the beach armed with all manner of clubs, forks, slings and spears. Behind them could be seen a core of better armed and armoured men: the local noble's own men.

Stones and spears began to impact on the wall as Haegon's archers began their response. Few Ironborn fell, such was the strength of the shield wall, while more and more fisherfolk met their end at an arrow's tip.

"Move!" shouted Uthor once the shield wall was ready. Up it rose, and the body of men began a brisk march forwards, maintaining their cover and moving towards the rapidly forming line of natives, who by now were being backed up with better armed locals bearing shields of their own. A pitched battle was imminent.

A mighty roar went up from the townsfolk as they rushed onto the beach.

"Brace!" came the cry. The shield wall dug in, spears were lined up in between the small gaps in the shields, ready to thrust through and draw blood. The two slides slammed together, both sides pushing: spears found their mark among the natives, as did swords and axes. In a few places, highly trained reavers intentionally opened their shield wall to allow a few enemies to stumble through, carried by their own momentum, before closing it up again. They were swiftly dispatched by troops waiting behind the shield wall for exactly that. Casualties among the townsfolk mounted: fishermen and crofters armed with implements of their trade were a poor match for seasoned raiders.

Watching carefully, Uthor waited for their line to thin sufficiently.

"With me!" he said to the men next to him: the signal for the next stage in the battle. They opened the shield wall and allowed a few of the natives to fall through and then surged forth themselves, into the gap. Slashing wildly left and right, Uthor and his chosen few were the best swordsmen in Merlyn service, capable of facing down enemies such as this two and three at a time. The breach in the native line grew, with more and more Ironborn breaking out of the shield wall and engaging the natives man to man. Before long their line had collapsed completely and the day was won: those who fled were picked off by the archers who had remained near the ships.

"Occupy the village, fortify it!" shouted Uthor as he marched into the village square, "Get stakes down on the perimeter, post sentries! Horsemen, range inland, find us our target!"

The men responsible for each task nodded as they were ordered, moving off to set to work. The Ironborn now had a firm footing on the island, creating a fortified encampment from which to base further raids against the rest of the island. A local response might come, with whatever nobility commanded the lands raising the rest of the populace to arms and marching against the raiders, but the Merlyns had brought almost two thousand in total with one goal: occupation. The sooner the back of military resistance could be broken, the sooner that would happen.