Battle of King's Landing

**The Mad Skylord** · January 17, 2017, 01:12 PM

Army of Lord Hoster
6'000 Light Infantry
6'000 Archers
4'100 Polearms
3'638 Heavy Infantry
1'838 Light Cavalry
1412 Heavy Cavalry
1600 Knights of the Riverlands
23'588 Men
Commanders:
Lord Hoster Tully
+3 Battles, +3 Survival, +2 Wealth, +2 Logistician

Lord Warden of the Blue Fork, Ser Brynden Tully
+3 Battles, +3 Duels, +3 Charisma

Guardian of the Ruby Ford, Ser Roger Whent
+2 Battle, +2 Duel, +2 Survival

Stannis Baratheon
+2 Battles, +2 Logistician, +1 Survival

The Riverlander army forms up for battle with the host of Dornish Loyalists.

**Jokern** · January 17, 2017, 01:28 PM

Royalist Garrison of King's Landing:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**Iron Aquilifer** · January 17, 2017, 01:41 PM

Martell Forces

**Poach** · January 17, 2017, 02:38 PM

Overall commanders are Sky for the Riverlands and IA for the Dornish/Crownlands. Send in orders.

**Pericles of Athens** · January 17, 2017, 03:50 PM

Ser Barristan Selmy stands with the Crownlands forces: +3 Joust, +11 Duel, +9 Survival, 40hp, +2 Charisma. By order of the King he made to lead the Crownlands in conjunction with the Martell Princes.

OOC: If he benefits from the Household Cavalry amongst the Crownlands forces, +2 post battle roll.

**Poach** · January 18, 2017, 05:49 PM

The Battle

The two armies met outside the walls of King's Landing, the vanguard of the rebellion under the Tully flag and the defenders of the city under the banners of House Martell, and augmented by a force comprised of a number of Crownlands houses. The Royalists enjoyed a definite advantage in numbers, with near 30,000 men facing against just short of 25,000 rebels. Both sides had a great number of Knights and men at arms, however a significant portion of Lord Hoster's forces were the provincial levy, giving the Crownlands forces an additional edge in quality.

On both the flanks the battle played out much the same, each commander giving their flanks similar marching orders. In a blunder by the Dornish commander, he committed all his forces against the enemy cavalry first, leaving his troops wide open to the Riverlander infantry, who gained a solid bonus by attacking an enemy infantry formation that was disorganised and strung out. The flanks therefore quickly dissolved into a bloody mess, as the Crownlands forces threw their entire might into the enemy cavalry, and the Riverlands infantry then piled in on the Crownlanders' exposed flanks. In this chaos, Riverlander light cavalry also slipped through the lines and ravaged the enemy archers.

The advantage in numbers and quality began to tell, however, and though on more than one occasion the Crownlander host looked to be near to breaking point, their size eventually won the day. The outnumbered Riverlands troops wrought bloody hell on the Crownlanders, killing more of them than they lost themselves despite the lop-sided numbers, but in the end they were driven off.

In the centre the dance was more intricate. Both forces saw their heavy footmen engage in a duel while Riverlands polearmsmen were backed up by the provincial levy in a swirling melee around the massed heavy troops, attempting to gain solid advantage. A timely charge from the small body of cavalry the Crownlander commander had wisely retained in reserve won the day for the Royalists, with their added weight turning the tide. The Crownlanders in the centre were able to join their comrades on the flanks in pushing back the Riverlanders, securing the field solidly for the Royal host.

The resulting rout saw the Riverlanders take modest casualties, no more than they had lost in the battle itself, but enough such that the Crownlanders were able to reverse their earlier grave tactical error and ensure the day ended with more Rebels than Loyalists lying dead about the field.

There was one casualty of note and one prisoner of note. Stannis Baratheon would be presented before the Dornish in chains, while Barristan Selmy would be presented before them on the back of a cart, a deep cut into his neck where a lucky blow in the heat of the battle saw him fall. Many credit Ser Barristan's rally and counter-charge as the saviour of the Dornish right, which was near collapse before the veteran Kingsguard rallied the men and dove back into the fray.

Armies

Riverlands
1786 H Inf
2996 L Inf
2088 Polearms
4500 Archers
900 E Cav
794 H Cav
1034 L Cav
~14,000 men, ~10,000 deaths.

The army retreats to Harrenhal.

Dorne/Crownlands (I don't have a per-region breakdown, you'll need to apportion it yourselves)
425 E Inf
2367 H Inf
584 L Inf
6098 Polearms
7592 Archers
1530 E Cav
3365 H Cav
1615 L Cav
~ 23,500 men, ~5,500 deaths.

Characters

Riverlands:

Hoster 18 - Free.
Brynden 3 - Wounded, Leg, no trait effects, no duelling for 2 RL days.
Roger Whent 5 - Wounded, Head. In a coma, will wake in 3 RL days. No memory of the battle.
Stannis Baratheon 8 - Captured.

Dorne/Crownlands:
Lewyn 16(+5 for 21) - free
Doran 13 - free
Oberyn 20 - free
Barristan 2 - dead

**Adamat** · January 18, 2017, 06:36 PM

Stannis did not feel right about this battlefield. It was too flat, too open. No tactical advantages to be had. Hoster had given him orders that he'd intended to follow, but the education that the Baratheon had received on the matter would allow him to add his own touch to the strategy. And so the horns sounded, and the battle began. Stannis ordered his pikes forward in anticipation of the following cavalry charge, but he could barely believe his eyes when the full Martell line surged forward. The unexpected advance was easy to counter, he supposed, as he ordered the pikes to open up and allow more infantry between their lines. It would be a slaughter, he envisioned as he kept rattling orders from the backside of the flank. He felt powerful, commanding death like this.

Minutes later, the feeling of empowerment was gone. The Martell strategy, although tactically terrible, had paid off as the fatigued Dornish were inspired by the white figure leading the charge. Barristan Selmy, his lieutenant had told him. As he kept commanding more troops to the sizable hole that Selmy was creating in the middle of Stannis' lines, he realised what had to be done. He wasn't one for personal battle, but his personal bodyguard could actually make the difference. "We ride to kill Selmy!" He shouted to the most loyal of knights on the flank as he spurred his horse forward. The heavy horse had trouble making their way through the committed infantry, but Stannis pushed on still. His tactical eye had turned to tunnel vision. Kill Selmy, break the entire flank.

As Stannis got thrown off his horse by a spearman, he shouted. Fear. He wasn't meant to be in personal combat. He was good in the backlines, not in the thick of battle. In the corner of his eye, he saw Selmy fighting off four of the Baratheon's personal retinue, and the Kingsguard finally seemed to be contained. Stannis had no time to smile, however. As the Kingsguard got thrown to the ground, Stannis heard his own soldiers' desperate cries. They were breaking. "Rally! Rally! Stand your ground!" the young commander tried to herd his flank back together, but it was too late. He'd waited too long to retreat himself, and all of a sudden he was surrounded by four men with curved swords. He turned his head slightly, seeing more and more Dornish surrounding him. "I surrender."

**Iron Aquilifer** · January 19, 2017, 06:08 AM

Doran Martell

They had formed regiments beneath the gaze of ten thousand suns, men as pale as milk taking line with men of olive and men of dark tan. They had streamed forward into their divisions, brandishing their lord's sigils like wards against undead spirits. Like clay beneath a master's hand, the great host took form, growing teeth of iron and wings of leather as the sun flew above them all.

Lewyn, joined by one of his fellow kingsguard, approached the Prince. He began to speak, though Doran was quick to cut him off. "We cannot offer terms. Not beneath the sight of our righteous liege." Oberyn spat at the phrase. "Offer Lord Tully naught but the fire of our sun and the blood of his soldiers. Anything else will put Elia to death." For a moment it was as if Lewyn was set to argue, defying the life of his niece in favour of fifty thousand strangers. "Your orders are clear Lewyn: to the left. Ser Barristan the Bold, you are Oberyn's on the right. I know no better to lead the cavalry."

And with that, the dragon unfurled his heads of bronze and steel. Into the great mass of riverlanders they struck, great gouging bites tearing apart the traitors in their hundreds. And yet Doran paused. This was a battle, a real battle. Here he was not a bystander, not a scribe to take notes on torn parchment. He had offered up orders simple enough for the masses to understand, and yet it looked as if that was to be his undoing. Each rider which came from the flanks spoke of disorder and ruin among the royal ranks, of desperate pleas for aid that could not come.

He panicked. "Forward!" he croaked to the men about him, many of whom had seen even less war than himself. Yet they put flight their woes and spurred mount to speed. Forward they went, a band only a few hundred strong. Into the Tully heart they went, trusting castle steel to keep them from harm. A few trusted wrongly. Then it became a blur, as the Prince struck at faces screaming and faces blank, as he speared the backs of men and lunged at the throats of others. He lost himself to the chaos, to the blood drenched anarchy of it all.

And then it was over. Like a damn struck by a winter's flood, the riverlanders fled. They broke, they gave up the will to attack and turned to thoughts of home. That was when Doran cried out in joyous vindication. "Now! Now!" he called out between sobs, pointing a blunted sword out towards the diminishing banners of the enemy. And like hounds the royalists surged forward, a dragon finally taking flight. Onwards they went, until even the dornish suns could not give light to their pursuit.

It was with a heavy heart that he allowed Lewyn to call an end to the chase, lest his army disappear for want of navigation. As the white knight took to reining in the royalist army, Oberyn made his presence known. "We have one of Robert's kin," his brother snarled. "Though we lost Barristan in exchange." Even though his surcoat was beyond saving at that pint, Doran could just make out enough distinguishing features to understand who the youth was. "Robert's brother?" Now that was an exchange worth the life of a single knight. "Do you think His Majesty would exchange you for my beloved sister, Lord Stannis?"

OOC:

Remaining Troops

**Adamat** · January 19, 2017, 07:12 AM

Stannis scoffed. "Prince Doran Martell, if I am not mistaken. You want to treat me like a bargaining chip to get Elia back. Aerys would never agree to a trade, as I'm sure he doesn't see Elia as his prisoner. After all, isn't she precisely where she's meant to be, in King's Landing with her loving and loyal husband Rhaegar?" He paused for a moment, feigning deep thought. "Oh, wait, I didn't see Rhaegar on the field at all! Where could he have gone?"

**Iron Aquilifer** · January 19, 2017, 12:03 PM

Originally Posted by Adamat

Stannis scoffed. "Prince Doran Martell, if I am not mistaken. You want to treat me like a bargaining chip to get Elia back. Aerys would never agree to a trade, as I'm sure he doesn't see Elia as his prisoner. After all, isn't she precisely where she's meant to be, in King's Landing with her loving and loyal husband Rhaegar?" He paused for a moment, feigning deep thought. "Oh, wait, I didn't see Rhaegar on the field at all! Where could he have gone?"

"We will deal with Rhaegar once he returns," Doran promised his captive. "But you would not do the same, were it Robert in a gilded cage and I before you? Most understand that the loyalty one has to family is the oldest of mortal laws. I understand the plight of your brother and the Stark boy." He smiled, convincing himself of that truth. "If her life was not endangered, well then would I have not called you ally?" The smile faded. "But what has come to pass has passed." He turned to his uncle. "Stannis is to be imprisoned aboard my flagship. Not a fitting place for a man of your station, but such a place would have you given over to the mercy of Aerys, and I would not have any but Aerys to be in such a position." The prince seemed torn. "Unless you would rather the King's hospitality? I know I'd rather sleep the battlefield than enjoy his company."

**Adamat** · January 19, 2017, 01:13 PM

"A fair point," Stannis decided. "Your ship will do. I wish you luck in treating with the King, when he learns you're keeping hostages for yourself."

**Jokern** · January 19, 2017, 02:32 PM

Days after the first battle outside the walls of King's Landing, a new host appeared on the southern horizon, marching up the kingsroad. Their banners were mostly those of crownlander lords, but also marcher lords from the Stormlands could be seen in the midst. However, above them all the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen fluttered in the wind. They had kept a high speed and all were tired, but the sight of King's Landing unharmed rose their spirits and cheers went up from the soldiers.

Jon Connington, wearing the chain of the Hand of the King around his neck, was not as happy as his men. Bodies in the thousands lay rotting in the field around the royal capital, the sigils of river lords, Dornishmen and crownlanders everywhere. Whatever battle had been fought here, it had cost them dearly. The fact that he could only see banners from the Riverlands among the dead rebel soldiers was also of concern, as it meant that neither Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark nor Robert Baratheon had been participating in this battle. If their armies had gathered, it was only a matter of time before they would march on King's Landing, Jon was certain of that.

The Hand and his army set up camp outside the walls of King's Landing, getting some rest before making his way to the Dornish camp for a report.