Storming Flea Bottom

[Poach]

Pre-Operation

Armed with all the information the Goldcloaks had on crime in Flea Bottom, ranging from official records of crime all the way down to those suspected of being involved, the Blackguard deployed to Flea Bottom.

Over the past few years as the city stared down one siege after another and witnessed multiple major battles outside the walls, the crime families of Flea Bottom had grown in power and influence, growing rich on exploiting people's fears, smuggling, and in the breathing room acquired since the Goldcloak's resources had drifted more and more to the city walls instead of the interior. By the time of Daemon's coronation, the Goldcloaks only operated in Flea Bottom by going there in force, for specific purposes: it was largely left to the gangs and crime families to run the place day to day. The Lord Commander was happy to have that district off his hands, and the Blackguard were eager to wade into the cesspool that existed right below the walls of the Dragonpit itself.

For the Blackguard, it was their debut. Until now their operations had been restricted to the security of the Dragonpit and the Red Keep, their only presence in the city being marching through it in their columns to and from those two destinations for deployment rotations.

The operation had started off small: the Blackguard seized a number of Flea Bottom residents found elsewhere in the city who had prior records, largely for petty criminal acts like attempting to steal from houses in the wealthier districts, and detained them in the Dragonpit, intensively questioning them until they knew where the important crime gangs and families made their base. It was largely open knowledge among the locals there, as these gangs and families were now accustomed to operating in the open. Thus armed, the Blackguard were ready to make their move.

On the day

Six hundred men rose before dawn, hefting on their armour and taking up positions along the edge of Flea Bottom, surrounding it. Watching the Dragonpit, high on the hill above, a single white flag was soon seen being waved from the ramparts facing the slum, signalling the beginning of the day's work.

At a jog, keeping their formation tight, columns of the black-armoured soldiers stormed the streets, with few awake at this hour to witness it but many being shaken from their slumber as the thunder of dozens of armoured boots thumped past their windows.

Each group had six men carrying a small log with iron handles: portable battering rams. Arriving at their targets, no words were uttered, no warrants announced, the doors were simply smashed in and the assault groups flooded inside, swords drawn. Those who went for weapons were cut down, all the rest within the target structures were simply bound, a bag placed over their heads, and hauled out.

While the snatch groups did their work, the rest of the troops on the operation were on the streets in force, providing the weight of numbers needed to intimidate the local population. Under orders to tolerate no dissent, but only to kill in self-defence, the men were heavy-handed when it came to any locals who got in their way. Only a few died, gang members attempting to mount a breakthrough to their leader's compound, but a great many had their noses broken by a gauntlet smashing into their face or the wind knocked out of them by one to the chest.

By the end of the day, Flea Bottom was a highly militarised district with groups of six Blackguard roaming the tight and filthy streets. With their intolerant approach to dissent, and the gangs who had been the law until this morning gone, the local populace gave them a wide berth. Sporadic violence continued as what remained of the gangs lower ranking orders attempted to re-assert control, but orders were to simply kill those ones. Many would die as disgruntled locals took the opportunity to settle scores with the gangs by revealing where the gang members had went to ground. The "bloody list", as the locals called it, was full of the names of anyone and everyone the Goldcloaks had ever had reason to think were involved with gang activity, and if you were on that list and were found... you died.

[OOC: LD you can take whatever role you'd like to take in this: there are multiple high-ranking criminal families that teams of Blackguard are seizing or there's the main body of soldiers who are basically enforcing Martial Law on Flea Bottom Your character would be in charge of one of these two efforts.]

[Lord Dread]

(actually would go for the seizing of the families, given my position as an officer - unlike Star Trek it doesn't seem wise to let the captain do this job unless it's necessary.
Can I form my six man team out of the Dismounted Knight professionals, I'm still paying?)

Reporting towards Ser Donnel, Ser Thorgen Pyre informed his commander, that Flea Bottom was completely locked up, as the men had positioned themselves even on those entrances, of which only the locals knew.
Given that some Blackguard members and former Wildfire men lived for the majority of their life in Flea Bottom, till they had been granted a better paid and more disciplined position, it was easy enough to know key locations and the majority of escape routes, in case those, for whom they came would resist.
Where the Goldcloaks have struggled for decades, Ser Thorgen hoped to cleanse this mud hole from corruption, assumingly also caused by the prior Lady Commander Ilsa Corbray and the donations of the Goldcloaks towards smaller citizens in light of rumored gangs within the district.

[Poach]

[OOC: We're not a Navy. Captains aren't senior officers, they'll be on the front lines. We're also living in a culture were Kings themselves got their swords wet.]

Dozens of prisoners had been captured, representing the crime lords and senior leadership of all of Flea Bottom's crime families. Thorgen was directed to herd them into the Dragonpit. In one of the large halls inside the Dragonpit they were all lined up, hands still bound behind their backs, arranged by family.

Donnel approached one man, "Knives" to the rest, who ran one of the mid-sized operations in one of Flea Bottom's neighbourhoods. He eyed the man in silence for several seconds, before addressing the group at large.

"You all have two choices," he shouted up the line, "Tell me where you keep your gang's money and take the Black, or die in the Dragonpit."

Some remained silent, some shouted curses. Knives was among those who shouted a string of insults at Donnel. Donnel took a few paces up the line, stopping before a teenage girl, Knives' eldest child, his only daughter among three children. In an instant Donnel exploded in movement, aggressively grabbing her by the hair and dragging her out of line into the middle of the hall. Knives tried to move to stop him, but a Blackguard knocked him to the ground with a forceful punch to the jaw, causing a few teeth to fly out the man's mouth as plate gauntlet met bone.

Many of the women had started crying and screaming, the unfortunate daughter of Knives among them. Donnel drew his dagger and forced her to her knees.

"No... wait, wait!" shouted Knives between coughing and splitting out blood, "Please, w-!"

Donnel didn't wait. Warm blood erupted from her neck and she made a gurgling noise, fighting for air as her throat filled with blood. He casually pushed her forward and she collapsed into a puddle of her own blood. Knives wailed in anguish.

"Every one of you will watch your children die first!" roared Donnel hatefully at the line, pointing the bloody dagger at them and sending flecks of blood shooting towards them. He stormed towards the door, pausing only to address Thorgen.

"Take the details Pyre. Kill the children of any who continue to refuse. Leave the girl there so they can see." he said, total calm having returned to his tone, as if he were merely commenting on the weather. Without waiting for a reply he continued out the door, leaving behind the wailing and crying.

[Lord Dread]

Ser Thorgen nodded, eyeing the dead body without too much reaction. He had seen enough suffering on the battlefield, saw brave men die, while innocents were slaughtered, boys like men. R'hllor had hardened the man and sacrifices for the realm had to be made. These were criminals - even in the eyes of the Red God they would barely gain any mercy.
He approached the family, while his boots actually made contact with the blood stain - his mimic showed neither any reaction of the girl being there.
"You better hurry up with the crying, Knives", Pyre started dry, already drawing his mace, while staring at the man in front of him, "Or how much do you want to lose till you finally talk?"
His prefered weapon was not as sharp as a blade, but the brutality with which he lead it, made it even more fearsome in terms of the pain, which the victim had to endure before death. The small thorns, in which the huge ball was covered, already showed, that the weapon was used perhaps half an hour ago or two, while not being cleansed yet.

OOC: Ah alright, fair enough.