(Erlend Mudd, Seagard)
As a moderately large town located on the western shores along Ironman's Bay. Seagard had long since been the primary defense of the Riverlands against Ironborn Invasions. The booming tower within the area contained an immense bronze bell that warned of ironmen attacks.
Its castle was the seat of House Mallister, a proud and noble House that had consistently done its best to withstand the Ironmen. Recently, it managed to repel an attack led by Rodrick Greyjoy, thanks to the aid of the Western Fleet, leading to Lord Jason slaying the squid during the storming.
"This town looks like a right mess," Yohn noted beside him.
Erlend agreed with the Vale lord, the town looked like it had seen better days. While his Good Uncle had been successful in defeating the Ironborn, it did come with a certain cost. The damage alone would take ages to fix, and that's without mentioning the cost.
Surrounding the town were tents of the Houses that arrived before them, mainly from Northern and Riverland Houses such as the Starks, Dustins, Ryswells, Ryger, Piper, Blackwoods, and many more.
It had taken longer for Erlend to arrive, as he awaited for the Valemen and Riverlords closer to him to merge with his forces before moving westwards.
Mind you it hadn't taken all that long to arrive at Seagard, a significant portion of the men had been transported by smaller vessels through the rivers his Kingdom was famed for. Allowing him to mobilize his forces far quicker than any of the other kingdoms.
Similarly, this was also one of the primary reasons why his Projects were now near completion so swiftly, as construction materials were transported using this transport system.
It was quickly becoming one of the most popular transport methods within the Riverlands due to its speed and relatively cheaper cost.
His forces were able to assemble far quicker than the host gathering at Lannisport, Oberyn and Stannis were given joint command over said host, the other lords not being trustworthy enough to pull off the task without messing up.
Motioning for his officers to settle the men, Erlend, and his lords made their way towards the seat of House Mallister.
Awaiting his arrival was his good Uncle Jason Mallister, brother to Aunt Dalia, and standing with him was his son and heir Patrek Mallister. Standing with them as well, were the various lords that had already arrived such as Benjen Stark, William Dustin, Rodrik Ryswell, Tytos Blackwood, and Jonos Bracken.
Dismounting from his horse and handing the reins to a retainer, Erlend made his way toward the lords as they all bowed before him in tandem. "Your Majesty, Seagard is yours," Jason said.
Clasping his Uncle's hands, Erlend helped the man up, "There's no need for that Uncle, you're family after all." He spoke, before turning to the others present, "Lord Stark, I see you and your men arrived quite early."
Benjen merely shrugged, "The attack on Bear Island had alerted us quick enough, figured you'd want us to be ready as soon as possible."
Acknowledging the Stark Lord's logic, Erlend greeted the other Lords, it didn't hurt to be polite. "Lord Dustin, Lord Ryswell, Lord Blackwood. Lord Bracken. It's good to see you all again. I hope you haven't faced any issues on the way." He told them.
"A pleasure to see you, your Majesty, we're doing quite well." They replied.
"So when did you two arrive?" he asked the two Riverlords, knowing the Northern ones likely had come with Benjen.
"Just a few ago your Majesty," Tytos responded, turning to glare at his rival, "We'd have been quicker but Jonos decided to dawdle a bit."
"I did not dawdle, there were some issues I had to deal with…" Jonos shot back, annoyed at the implications Tytos was making.
"Like a certain fair-haired issue, hmm?"
"Oh Piss off you feathered cunt."
"Make me, you horse-muncher."
Wisely ignoring the two, Erlend turned his attention back to the wolf. "How is Lady Bethany and your son, Lord Stark," Erlend asked.
"They are happy as could be your Majesty. Jon has just reached 5 this year and is overjoyed at the news that Bethany is heavy with our second child, he always wanted another sibling." Benjen replied.
"Mayhaps he could meet with Edmund after this war, they might make for good friends." He said to them, Rodrik, Jon's grandfather, and Benjen's father-in-law perked up at that. Not surprisingly, as he was one of the more ambitious Northerners, which Erlend didn't mind in this case, Jon could make for a reliable ally for Edmund in the future.
As they talked with each other, Jason guided the party inside the castle, occasionally joining in with his input.
…
It was the hour of the owl at the moment and Erlend was nursing a cup of tart wine from the quiet Isle. Jason informed him of what had been some rather interesting information.
During the battle, Rodrik Greyjoy who had assumed that he had Seagard by the ropes and had boasted of how his Uncle had gotten ahold of a Dragon Horn. How he got it he didn't specify but the fool had been pretty smug about it, even when he lay dying.
This would have been rather troubling news, had Erlend not known a specific little info, that most people were unaware of.
Dragon horns were tied to specific dragons and bloodlines.
No one outside of a specific Dragonlord bloodline could use a horn on just any random Dragon, it had to be the same Dragon that had been originally tied to the horn.
To make it simple, Only one House could use the horn, which would only work on one Dragon, usually their most powerful one. A logical thing to do, since if you can control the largest and most powerful Dragon present, you could likely subdue or at least heed off the others from causing trouble.
Unsurprisingly, the news of the existence of such a tool had been allowed to leave Valyria itself. This was so they could attract their most ambitious enemies who would have been fairly troublesome to find on their own.
Simply put, it was a trap carefully laid out by the Valyrians out of sheer laziness. Why go after your enemies hiding in the shadows when they could come to you themselves?
An admirable thought process all in all, even if they were megalomaniacs.
Jason had panicked about that little reveal from the Greyjoy for quite a while, it was one of the main reasons he had been so tense upon his arrival. Only after his personal assurance, did the man visibly relax when became aware of the fact that the Horn was useless.
As expected of Ironborn, always looking for the easiest way out of a problem they created themselves.
…
A week or so had passed, as all the lords arrived with their hosts. Combined with the Host at Lannisport, this would be the most significant number of men raised since the Dance.
Many of them had wondered why precisely the Ironborn were so foolishly throwing their lives away for a cause so stupid, Erlend didn't care, he had the justification needed.
Jason had kept mum about the horn, just because it was useless against Erlend's dragons didn't diminish the fact that some idiot could use it to sow discord within the ranks.
The lords had gathered around the main tent for a War Council, where Erlend let them discuss among themselves for a few minutes. Finally, after making sure everyone who should be here was present, "Any news on the Ironborn?" Erlend asked.
"Balon Grejoy has declared himself the King of the Iron Islands. With Rodrik dead, Maron is now his heir, though it's contested by his brothers Euron and Victarion." Yohn spoke.
Benjen raised his eyebrows at that, "They're fighting against all of Westeros and they're still squabbling amongst themselves!" Looking incredulous at the very idea of it.
"You could never accuse an Ironborn of being smart," William said blandly.
Ignoring the byplay between them, Erlend motioned for Yohn to continue. "It will take a moon's turn for the Lannisport Host to arrive at Great Wyk. By the time they complete the goals set out for them, we'd already be besieging Pyke." Yohn concluded.
The other lords looked interested in Yohn's words, as for how they'll be getting to Pyke and the Islands around it, one only needed to look across the shore to get their answer.
"Thank you, Yohn. Any other news concerning the Ironborn?"
Taking that as his cue to talk, Horton stood up and answered, "They're mostly on the defensive at the moment. Their attacks on Lannisport and Sunspear might have been a success, but the other attacks have either failed to make any gains or ended in the death of the Greyjoy responsible for it."
"So what do we do now?" Benjen asked as everyone looked towards Erlend for an answer.
Erlend stared at the gathered Lords for a few seconds, "I'll leave Blacktyde to you and your men." He said to Benjen. "Yohn, you'll be securing Orkmont. While myself and the Banners will take Harlaw."
"What if they don't surrender your Majesty?" Greatjon questioned.
"If they do not surrender or lay down their arms, you kill them. On top of that, I want every drowned priest cut down. Every temple of theirs was destroyed to the point that not even ruins remain. Every book or parchment that contains even a sliver of the drowned god burnt and every Thrall and Salt Wife freed!" Erlend rose, as he gave his orders.
"That seems a bit harsh, your Majesty." William Mooton protested, earning him glares from some of the lords gathered, including his good brother Marcus.
Erlend snorted at Mooton's foolishness, "Unless you wipe out their worship of the drowned god stem and root, they will never change their ways. Their whole culture is built on reaving and enslavement. If you want them to stop, you must get rid of the source first. " Erlend explained.
Surprisingly, It was Benjen who supported his words first, "My lords, His Majesty speaks true. If we refuse to do anything about the Ironborn now, will they not just rise again in the times of our children and ravage the lands as they've had for several millennia!"
A chorus of agreement followed as support for Erlends and Benjen's reasoning grew, the Ironborn would find no mercy among those gathered here.
…
After a bit more planning and discussions, the lords dispersed to get their men organized and prepared for the invasion of the Iron Islands.
The next day would see thousands of men boarding the fleet, as they prepared to depart for their destination. Logistics and supply had to be made, ships had to be inspected, and men had to be equipped, it was a monumental task that few would envy.
It was agreed that his good Uncle Jason would remain within Seagard, guarding the coast of both the Riverlands and the North, in case the Ironborn tried something.
Patrek and his mother would be moved to Firmridge, where they would be safer, though his cousin assumed it was mainly for him to be squired off to Lorimas, who was charged with protecting the home front.
As their vessel prepared to sail off, Horton asked a rather crucial question, "What will become of the Iron Islands after the war?"
Erlend simply stared into the horizon, "It all depends on their response to this counter-attack. If they refuse to surrender, they cannot blame us for what happens next."
Horton went silent at that, bowed his head, and left towards his cabin.
As the ship sailed away, Erlend was well aware that this war would change Westeros, for better or worse, it would usher in a change few would comprehend until it was too late.
It would also define the way the realm viewed him.
…
(Ironman's Bay)
Blessed with favorable winds, they had managed to make a good headway toward Harlaw in just a few days. Erlend has chosen to sail ahead of the fleet much to the dismay of his men, who insisted on sending at least a dozen ships with him.
Their worries were not unfounded, the Ironmen, while notorious, were some of the best sailors this continent had to offer. Unfortunately for them, no matter how skilled they were, there was little they could do with how outnumbered they were.
As a swift breeze ruffled his hair, Erlend allowed his magic to run free, his aura covering their surroundings as he looked for any stray vessel. To those looking at him, it seemed as if he was deep in thought.
Only the unnatural feel around the air hinted towards something else going on, yet no one connected this strangeness to him.
It helped that they had yet to spot a single Ironmen ship at the moment, the sea feeling eerily empty.
After a bit of thinking, Erlend had instructed his officers to capture as many variations of the Ironborn ships as they could. He was no expert in ship-building, but he understood that despite their lack of many redeemable traits, the reavers knew how to build some of the best ships in the world.
Perhaps his shipbuilders might be able to replicate them or improve upon them so that his fleet could put them to use. Both the western and eastern Royal Fleets could greatly benefit from having more flexible and swift vessels. It would make it easier to capture smugglers, pirates, and reavers alike.
His observation was interrupted by the footsteps of an incoming figure who bowed his head.
"Horton, I take it you have news?" Erlend asked.
"A report from Yohn, he encountered a dozen Ironborn ships on their way to Grey Garden from Orkmont, your Majesty," Horton said.
"Their goal being what exactly?"
"If they are to be believed, their purpose was to convince Harras Harlaw to throw his backing towards Victarion Greyjoy as heir, they assumed that Rodrik Harlaw would follow suit if his nephew did so."
"They want Harras and Rodrick to support Victarion against their kin!" Erlend let out an amused snort at that.
"They claim the boy is a fool and incapable, citing his mother's recent instability," Horton replied.
What little Erlend knew of Maron was that he was a compulsive liar and prone to cruel japes, at least according to Theon's accounts. Though the man was an unreliable narrator and more than likely was the victim of unseemly pranks by his elder brother.
"Trying to get his support by insulting his cousin and his aunt is quite a bold move. I assume the extra ships were meant as a warning."
Here they were in the middle of a war for their very survival, and the fuckers still had time to scheme against each other.
Horton nodded, "They were instructed to intimidate Harras if he refused their initial offer." He said.
Erlend snorted at that, a dozen ships were good and all but it wasn't going to frighten any sensible lord. Then again they were likely counting Harras being too young to understand his position, his father had died in the battle with the Redwynes after all.
That was probably another thing they should've taken into account, Erlend wouldn't be surprised if the young Harlaw did hold Victarion responsible for the death of his father.
"Has Yohn managed to capture any ships?"
"Three longships, the rest were destroyed during the battle. Our men were more than a little enthusiastic and didn't think about capturing the ships until it was too late." Horton looked annoyed at that.
"It's fine Horton, soon we'll be swamped with more longships than we know what to do with."
"As you say, your Majesty."
"How's Jasper?" The young Redfort heir like his father has chosen to remain with Erlend rather than go with the rest of the Valemen to Orkmont.
"He's not taken to sailing well, the poor lad is still feeling like 'shit' according to his own words."
"I wish him luck, lord knows I wouldn't want to be in his position at this moment." Horton chuckled at that, whatever pity he had for his son was outweighed by his amusement at Jasper's predicament.
More than likely the old man saw it as retribution for his heir's consistent fooling around with servant girls and brothels. Erlend wouldn't be all that shocked if word got out that some of those servants were heavy with children already.
Heis and their inability to keep it in their pants, hopefully, Edmund won't be as stupid once he hits puberty, otherwise litter Rhae would castrate the brat.
It seemed Horton did not care for the fact that there was a heavy chance his heir would beget a bastard. They continued to discuss the affairs of the Riverlands and Vale's recovery from the clan's incursions. Erlend had made sure to rebuild what could be and provide financial support for what couldn't.
It had played a key role in cementing his position within the Vale and the loyalty of his Lords. Naturally, there was some opposition to his rule, headed primarily by Anya Waynwood, though she chose to be far more subtle about it, the ambitious lady still wanted her cousin as Lord Paramount of the Vale.
Erlend had no interest in humoring the Waynwoods. The Vale would become a key pillar for his dynasty and he would be damned if he allowed it to be under the control of someone not of his blood.
Their discussion of the two kingdoms would be interrupted by shouts of alarm that rang throughout the ship.
The Ironborn had finally arrived. There were about fifteen longships, and one of his men signaled for the rest of the Flotilla to warn them of the incoming danger.
The deck was filled with men as they rushed to put on their equipment and get into positions. Just in time as the Ironborn closed in.
His men rained down arrows from above onto the Ironborn who attempted to board the ship. The reavers faced heavy casualties as they failed to gain momentum in boarding his ship. Their leather armor did little to protect them from the rain of death falling upon them.
Eventually, as his men ran out of arrows, a few of the braver Ironborn managed to board the ship which was now surrounded by longships from both sides.
Naturally, this didn't change the fact that they were falling faster than flies, as his better-equipped and disciplined men cut them down as soon as they got on deck.
Erlend did not stand there for long as he unsheathed his saber and joined the battle. Casually blocking their attacks and cutting them down where they stood. Cut, Slash, Block, it became more akin to a rhythm as Ironborn fell one after the other.
Old Horton was engaged in his own battles, with his son Jasper fighting alongside him, it would make for quite the sight, if not for the fact that they were covered with the blood of squids.
As Erlend turned elsewhere he saw his men struggling against a large man, with a bull-broad chest and fierce glare. A Kraken sigil lay on his chest, and armor that was made out of steel rather than leather.
A noble, likely one of the Greyjoy brothers.
Noble or not, Erlend did not care to see his men slaughtered, joining the fight by blocking a killing blow that almost took the head of one of his men. Putting the bulky reaver's attention firmly on himself, the ugly fucker looked perturbed until he spotted the crown on his head.
"So… you're the fucker these Greenlanders have been singing praises to since the silver-haired cunt made a mess of things," He spoke roughly.
"Am I supposed to know you?" Erlend deadpanned, not intimidated by the Greyjoy.
The man looked annoyed at that, "I am Victarion Greyjoy. Victor of the Battle of the Arbor, and the future King of Salt and Rock."
Erlend maintained his deadpan as he stared at the dead man in front of him, "Pity… I had hoped to meet your deranged brother."
Victarion roared in fury as he lunged towards Erlend with his axe, Erlend simply dodged as he spun and slashed at the squid, Victarion barely managing to block his slash, the shield cracking from Ardent's attack.
Backing off, both men circled each other, one looking wary while the other unfazed, as if he was on a stroll rather than in a duel of life and death. The men around them seemingly coming to a consensus, dared not interrupt their duel, as they fought each other instead.
Both fighters moved in earnest, Erlend would thrust and probe here, throwing a feint here and there, testing the Greyjoy wherever he could, a few strikes managing to catch the squid by surprise as his shield broke apart. His armor was marked by Ardent's slashes, looking worse for wear.
Even still, they had been at it for quite a while, Erlend was somewhat impressed by the persistence of this man, unfortunately, he was a little too late in parrying a slash from Ardent.
Victarion gasped in pain, as it happened before he could react. Gritting his teeth in pain, he did his best to continue swinging his axe at his opponent, trying to cut him down.
Erlend countered the tiring squid with ease, a direct contrast to his weary opponent, who found himself losing balance as Erlend surprised him with a direct kick to his leg.
Before the self-proclaimed future King could steady himself, Erlend sent a punch right to his jaw, a crack could be heard as the man howled in response.
Trying to get his bearings, Victarion tried to see through the haze that was beginning to cover him, only to see the smug face of the Mudd King, "Night. Night." was all that was said before Erlend slammed his fists on his head that sent him straight to the dreamlands.
Erlend looked around to see the battle finishing up, a few dozen Ironborn corpses littered the deck, with a few Bannermen joining them. A grim sight for those who had not already witnessed war.
His men had rushed down towards the adjacent longships, killing any stragglers they could find.
The flotilla had taken care of the rest of the Ironborn ships on their own.
A few longships had attempted to escape once the outcome of the battle became clear, unfortunately for them, his ships were equipped with scorpions that made quick work of them.
Wanting to make an example for the captured reavers, he let his voice be heard, "PILE THEM INTO THE DAMAGED LONGSHIPS AND BURN THEIR BODIES, FUCK THEIR DROWNED GOD, FUCK THEIR OLD WAY!" He roared for all to hear.
His men cheered in response to his order and slaughtered the remaining Ironmen who looked aghast at what would become of their corpses. Only those who wore anything of value were spared, likely lordlings or such, forcing them to watch the blasphemous deeds done to their companions' corpses.
Erlend began to hum a familiar tune, not caring a wit for the fate of his enemies. Even the lordlings would meet the same fate once all useful information was ripped out of them.
'Let's see them join their drowned god now.'