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Winterfell, The North - 293 AC
Jaekar Targaryen/Jon Snow.
Since first light the Winterfell garrison had been awake, alert and ready for what was to come.
For now the bow and crossbowmen stood at the front, armed and ready while the melee ones at the back, with spears and shields drawn.
Several of the boys Jaekar had put to work could be seen at the ramparts. Some stood ready with stretchers, others with waterskins, some would just work as messengers while others would carry forth weapons and reload the extra crossbows. Pots of boiling hot oil were carried up from behind the walls where several of those boys along with the women of Winterfell had been put to work, they tended to a great fire above which the oil boiled.
Several Ballistas stood tall mounted upon the wall, he had these mounted in raised platforms behind the line of warriors considering these would be mounted by his boys and not trained warriors. These Ballistas were far smaller than those commonly used in sieges of Westeros and more based on the dwemer machinations he had often encountered whilst exploring their long abandoned ruins. These were far easier to handle and two young boys could use them with ease. Their faster reload time is attributed to the fact that they were built for taking down waves of enemy forces instead of walls, siege engines and in some cases dragons like most Westerosi Ballistas were. These could use a lighter bolt or a heavy iron bolt with its end draped in cotton and a chamber filled with flash powder as ammunition and these would wreck absolute havoc on the enemy forces.
Aside from them they had a few mounted crossbows built, these were triple bow mounted crossbows, while expensive and quite complex when it came to construction, these had their advantage in both range and power. They would be loaded with either normal or incendiary bolts depending on the situation.
Several weapon racks armed with spears, swords and spears stood atop the ramparts at regular intervals along with blaziers for the ranged defenders to light their ammunition with.
Other than that there sat several catapults while the casks of Quicklime power and the concoction of flash powder and oil were still inside the warehouse. Jaekar had no intention of using those until the entire enemy host got here.
The enemy host was unorganized to say the least, throughout the night he had observed them through the eyes of his crows, each were drunken savages feasting, drinking, raping and boasting of how the would take the castle the next day. Even their commanders were overconfident and impatient, that would be their undoing.
Speaking of commanders, one was Euron Greyjoy and the other Maron, his nephew, a foolish brat if he had ever seen one. The boy clearly had no strategic mind and thought with his cock.
Sixteen Hundred they numbered, Jaekar doubted that a thousand would remain to feast tonight.
Soon an enemy rider would be spotted, bearing a single message.
" Surrender the castle now, or we will take it by force and put the entire populace to the sword ", while it definitely was not an empty threat considering that's exactly what they would do, with the men at least. They would have to take the castle first.
Jaekar looked to Robb as the acting lord of Winterfell told the messenger that Winterfell will never surrender, he could see the conflict that raged within him in his eyes and was sure the messenger could too.
" Good ", he thought ," Let them think us weak "
And thus minutes later the battle would begin.
He was ready, they were ready he thought looking at his fellow men as his hands shifted across his crossbow. They had toiled for days for this. This would not be easy, but they would survive this, Winterfell Would Survive.
There he stood atop the walls, in the frontlines, a loaded crossbow in his hands, prepared just like every other man on the wall. Robb had obviously argued why he couldn't fight, considering Jaekar was his age and was fighting, only to be put down by both Jaekar and his mother. They had chastised him, telling him he was the acting Lord Of Winterfell and his place was here, while Jaekar was his representative out there. This would probably be the first time in his life when Lady Catelyn had sided with him over her own son.
The war horns blew as the enemy marched, carrying ladders and ropes and moving with siege towers. The Winterfell garrison stood strong and calm, their hands on their weapons.
" Men, Nock….. ", the voice of Ser Rodrik ran out through the silence as every man with a boy or crossbow nocked their arrows and double checked their bolts.
" Draw… ", it was the next command and the bowmen drew their bows whilst the crossbow men raised their crossbows.
" Ignite… " And thus they ignited their ammunition.
" Aim... ", And thus they aimed.
" Steady…. Steady " and thus they waited staring into the host ahead as hundreds of Ironborn rushed towards Winterfell.
Quarter of a minute passed when they heard the final command in the series " Fire ", Ser Rodrik's voice boomed.
And they let the first volley loose.
Jaekar watched as more than three hundred fire arrows and bolts descended upon the invading enemy, striking them down as they made their approach.
Screams of anguish and pain could be heard from the battlefield as the fire arrow burned into their skins while the inciendary ones exploded letting out the poisonous smoke from the flash powder as men chocked. Yet the garrison didn't bat an eye as they continued the assault, letting volley after volley loose.
Jaekar personally added chanted incantations with each bolt he fired, imbuing them to become Fire Runes that explode on contact with the enemy.
Of all the siege towers only three made it to the outer walls, most burned away while others in the field, unable to make it across the trenches the northmen had dug.
Jaekar looked as a group of spearmen strode forward towards plank attaching the tower to the walls clearing the path whilst two crossbowmen fired regularly through between them killing any who tried to enter, while two men carried a pot of boiling hot oil that they would pour down the tower, and soon the screaming started and a smell of burnt flesh that Jaekar was all so familiar with filled the air. But there would be no mercy that day. Jaekar watched as the same treatment was given to the second siege engine but stopped it before it could be done to the third. These were the last fighting men, the others had already fled back to camp, it was time for a slaughter.
Grabbing a shield and spear from the back racks, he barked an order commanding the men to form a shield wall, spears at the ready and crossbowmen behind them ready to welcome those unlucky souls with a shower of bolts…
Maron Greyjoy, The Siege Tower,
Outside the Walls Of Winterfell
It was not supposed to be like this, they had thoroughly planned the attack, yet as they marched the northmen rained waves of flaming arrows on them, he saw his men burn, scream in agony and die. And the smell, what devil did create that smell, he saw men choking on it as they burned.
How did it go so wrong, Winterfell was supposed to be weak, with not even a half filled garrison and a boy as a lord yet here they were.
And now here he was inside this tower, the one he had opted to lead.
" I would be the first to gut these Greenlanders, uncle ", he had told Euron.
He cursed his uncle, his father, his brother and most of all himself. The only way was ahead and that certainly led to death,
" Mayhaps they would take me hostage ", he thought but he knew better, wolves tore apart those that threatened their pack.
" What is dead, May never die ", he screamed as he rushed out into the ramparts, shield raised, longsword in hand and his men following.
Jaekar Targaryen/Jon Snow,
The Ramparts Of Winterfell
From a elevated platform he watched as the Ironborn rushed out, ready to meet their fate, the first wave was greeted with a shower of bolts and behind leading them was none other than Maron Greyjoy, dressed in black chain with a helmet shaped as a kraken he moved like a mad dog resigned to his fate. He screamed as his men fell upon the northern shield wall, falling like moths would to a flame.
Jaekar raised his spear like a javelin and with all the strength he could summon, flung it down towards the Kraken's son. The spear hit true directly at the boys neck and thus Maron Greyjoy fell to the ground bleeding out, he was no Ravos the Raper, mayhaps the only thing he would ever share with Ravos was that they both died at the hands of a vengeful hungry wolf.
Lord Wyman Manderly,
New Castle, White Harbor-293 AC.
The lord of White Harbor, looked out leaning on a railing on his balcony, looking out to the sea as he contemplated the situation. The North was under assault while most of their forces were far away, in the south. His own son Wylis had marched south with Lord Stark leading the Manderly host.
While the possibility of a siege of White Harbor was very low, he had still considered it. Considering the Ironborn were bold enough to try and take Winterfell.
While Winterfell was a fortress in its own right and highly defensible they had various advantages that would help them outlast most sieges, those being their high population and access to the sea, so unless they were faced with a attack from both land and sea, a full garrison could hold for years.
Thus he had sent out his son Wendel to gather and start training men, his gaze shifted to the yard below where his granddaughter chatted away in tow with their ladies, a small smile came to his face at the sight, the girls Wynafryd and Wylla one twelve and the other nine both by his son Wylis and good daughter Leona Woofield were sweet girls, one of them would one day inherit his lands as the ruling lady of White Harbor.
Hearing a horn at the gates he looked to them, a host flying Manderly colours rode in his son at the lead, the boy rode directly into the yard. His granddaughters ran to their uncle and he acknowledged with a short exchange before rushing into the castle with a man in tow.
" Father ", he said, rushing into his chambers clearly out of breath.
" Breath boy breath, What is it, has something happened " he said clearly worried.
" I… we… we were patrolling the White Knife when we came upon him ", Wendel replies pointing to his companion " He carries a message from Lord Robb Stark "
" A message ", Lord Wyman moves as his son hands him a letter.
To Lord Wyman Manderly,
Lord of White Harbor,
Warden Of The White Knife.
I would first ask you to excuse the mode through which we communicate considering ravens can be shot down in a war and thus this. We stand at Winterfell expecting a siege to start any day now, we are heavily outnumbered yet we stand strong ready to defend our home.
Winterfell will hold however we have a plan to break the siege and it requires your help in doing so, I and my brother Jon Snow along with Ser Rodrik Cassel the master of arms at the castle have come up with the plan, that if we both follow you may bear no doubt in your mind we would together successfully expel the Ironborn invaders.
More details regarding the plan along with instructions would be found in the attached document letters, for now I Robb of House Stark, Acting Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North do hereby name Lord Wendel Manderly as Lord Commander of the Relief Army.
Thus we wait as the enemy draws near, yet we know we shall survive.
Winterfell Shall Survive.
Lord Robb Stark,
Acting Lord of Winterfell,
And Warden Of The North.
Wyman's eyes widened as he read the letter and then the instructions attached, double checking the seals to make sure they were legitimate.
" Father ", Wendel asked.
Lord Wyman put the letter down as he spoke ," Summon the maester, we have a shit tonn of Ravens to send and Wendel, get all your men and prepare to march… House Stark calls for aid and House Manderly would answer"
And thus within an hour ravens left for every northern castle that didn't lay in the Ironborns path, while Ser Wendel Mandely raised his host and prepared to march.
Jaekar Targaryen/Jon Snow,
Winterfell.
The first battle had been a huge success for the northerners, eight hundred dead Ironborn they had counted, the enemy had retreated to their camp, to lick their wounds and tend to the wounded which numbered at least two hundred at least according to what Jaekar saw through his Crow's eyes.
Those who survived the arrow barrage and lay wounded outside the walls were dragged in for execution, they would get no mercy. Robb did it himself and thus the walls of Winterfell were now adored with at least fifty heads on spikes with Maron's head in the center.
The ballistas and mounted crossbows had worked wonders and decimated the invading forces.
However not all was well, almost forty defenders had died, most to arrows and some to the battle atop the walls, while about twenty more were injured. The worst part being these were mostly archers and crossbowmen, the backbone of the defence.
He hoped the Manderlys had received the message by now and would be well on their way. For now they had a short respite, at least until the sellswords got here. Their worst handicap was the fact that they couldn't use the concoction he had cooked up or the Quicklime powder, which would be useless if not used against the whole army.
Thus for now waited, nursed their wounded and prepared for fights to come.
Through the next two weeks many of those wounded would die plunging the Ironborn numbers to an all time low of six hundred and twenty seven, no raids had occurred through the week but that was soon to change with the arrival of some of the sellswords companies, bolstering their numbers by two thousand.
Even then no attack came for two more days, Jaekar knew Euron hesitated, anyone would after the losses they encountered on their first attempt. But in the end impatient Sellswords and hot blooded Ironborn crying for vengeance won over sense and thus on the third day after the sellswords arrived, Winterfell faced the second wave, this time against two thousand and six hundred invaders.
This battle would be far more devastating than the last, while they would kill another thousand by the end, their numbers would dwindle down to three hundred and sixty. With several others wounded. Ser Rodrik would be among those wounded and Jaekar would immediately take up command as acting lord commander of the Winterfell Garrison. Desperation was beginning to seep into the men so much so that they agreed to a ten name days old boy leading them without question. They needed someone to look up to.
Without any choice in hand, Jaekar would have the trained soldiers take up crossbows and bows whilst filling in the ranks with his older boys and women of Winterfell. By the third day after the second wave they finally managed to once again get a garrison of five hundred, with every boy above eleven and every grown woman drilling day and night amidst their other duties in the yard.
Four days later the last two thousand sellswords would arrive.
Ser Wendel Mandely
The North.
He had emptied their lands to the last man and raised a host of a 1000 able bodied men, of these there were 800 infantrymen and the rest cavalry and thus marched North where he was met with his aunt Donella Hornwoon née Manderly and his cousin Daryn Hornwood the acting lord of the Hornwood lands, he had gracious added another hundred men to their cause.
As they marched they had received news about what had happened in Winterfell and how the Starks had repelled the first assault, they drank to Robb Stark that night and moved next morrow.
They were soon joined by 600 more, a combined host of the Northern Mountain Clans along with Umber and Karstark men.
But the most surprising were the next one's.
Wendel sat in his tent studying the map of the areas surrounding Winterfell, trying to get an idea on how he could maneuver these lands without the Ironborn noticing, a cup of wine in his hand.
" Milord, a host approaches bearing the banners of house Bolton, Dustin and Russell ", a man informed him, as he almost choked on his wine before spitting some out.
Bolton, Dustin and Ryswell coming to aid the Starks, as funny as it may sound the Bolton's weren't even the most surprising, every northerner knew of Barbary Dustin's hatred for Ned Stark. The Dustin's and Ryswells hadn't dedicated any forces to the host that marched south yet here they were.
He went out to find the lady of his thought herself ," My lady I didn't expect to see you here " as the lady of Barrowton dismounted from her black steed, her personal quartered Dustin Ryswell banner depicting ,a spiked crown and crossed long axes of House Dustin and golden horse head of House Ryswell fluttering in the wind.
"Of course you didn't ", The lady of Barrowton began in her usual cheeky tone ," no one did… but I would not sit idly by while Ironborn pillages the North… together I have brought fifteen hundred men belonging to mine, my father's and my nephews house "
Mayhaps her hatred for Ironborn outweighs her hatred for the Starks or she fears an Ironborn invasion of her own lands, he thought. No matter what her reasons this was a welcome surprise.
With their forces bolstered to a whopping 3200 of this there were 2200 infantry and a thousand cavalry they marched for Winterfell waiting for further instructions from the Starks as told in the letter.
Jaekar Targaryen/Jon Snow,
Winterfell.
Jaekar stood atop the ramparts of Winterfell, his eyes fixed upon the enemy host, a total of about 3500 men marched to assault the walls today. Several Siege Towers adored the horizon and they slowly rumbled towards Winterfell's walls.
His trusty crossbow in his hand yet today they wouldn't be starting with volleys like the other days.
" Load the catapults ", he yelled at the top of his voice, his boys did it.
" Steady, boys… steady ", he yelled as he waited for the enemy to get in position.
Half a minute later he yelled ," Fire first Volley "
Vargo Hoat,
The fields Outside Winterfell.
Vargo Hoat led the Brave Companions across the field, screaming war cries, today they take Winterfell.
When they were first approached by the Greyjoy, he believed him to be joking. Taking a castle like this was almost unheard off. Thus he asked for a huge amount, one that was immediately denied. It took some negotiations but they had arrived at an agreement. For a smaller amount of coin, they would be paid with the populance of Winterfell, men, women and children to sell as slaves. They could rape who they wanted, kill who they wanted and take what they wanted without question. The only people off limits were the Stark family.
He could live with that.
And thus they began the assault.
As they ran he saw casks being flung at them with catapults and they slowed their pace yet did not stop, a cask fell directly to his left and from it rose a white powder that moved fast with the wind, some of it entered his eyes and he couldn't see well. The army had stopped moving, panic rising.
He rubbed them and rubbed them to no avail. When another cask fell near him, splashing some liquid all over him, it was oily and smelled terrible, like rotten eggs.
" What the fuck is this ", he thought.
And that's when he heard it, the sound of arrows swishing past.
One of them fell near him and then the only thing the Qohorik would do was scream.
Jaekar Targaryen/Jon Snow.
The Ramparts Of Winterfell.
He watched as the casks of Quicklime powder dispersed, blinding the invading host as the second volley with the mixture of flash powder and oil hit and finally as a wave of fire arrows and bolts set it alight.
He watched as hundreds burned in the roaring inferno that formed a satisfactory smirk on his face, whilst the garrison watched with both awe and fear on their faces.
Even when the fire burnt down not a single man came forward as they choked in the smoke that was left, Jaekar ordered his men to switch to normal arrows and finish those who survived off.
And thus they launched volley after volley. Killing those few who were wandering, blind trying to escape the smoke.
The smoke cleared hours later and left behind a bloody sight for all to see. Upon Jaekars command a scouting party went ahead, finishing off the few who might have survived counting twelve hundred estimated to be dead for it was hard to count when all that was left were mangled half burnt bodies.
As the days rolled by, the Ironborn camp was in a state of panic with Euron barely keeping his men from revolting. The few sellsword commanders who remained demanded extra payment with fights breaking out between them and the Ironborn. Euron managed to placate his men promising them retribution and the sellswords more gold, while planning another assault on the castle two days and hence making a very elaborate plan. Sometimes that Jaekar witnessed in great detail through the eyes of his crows.
As Jaekar prepared to repel another assault he came up on a welcome sight while scouting the areas surrounding Winterfell like he did everyday, the Relief Army, currently half a day south marching north through the forests. Smiling, he wrote a letter to Ser Wendel asking him to prepare for a full-on assault on the next morrow when the Ironborn attacked the fort.
Ser Wendel Manderly,
The North
It took the combined intelligence of him and all his commanders to figure out a route to Winterfell without the Ironborn finding out.
Lady Dustin's and her Ryswell cavalry's expertise had been very helpful in regards to the same. Scouting out paths and leading the army especially when they moved in the cover of the forests.
The Ryswell had the best cavalry in the North and would prove to be an invaluable asset in the battles to come.
He dined with lady Dustin that evening when a crow flew into his tent carrying a piece of paper in its beak. Even when he shooed it away it would not fly, but would put the letter down, crowing away and beating the table, atop which he laid it.
He moved ahead picking it up, Lady Dustin moving beside him, his eyes widened as he read through the letters contents, it was from Jon Snow, Lord Starks natural born son. Apparently with Ser Rodrik injured the boy had taken up command of the defense, successfully repealing another assault and was calling the Northern forces to battle when the Ironborn would strike at the fort on the next morrow.
" A warg ", Lady Dustin's voice ran through, breaking him from his thoughts.
" What…. a warg ", he thought ," of course he was a warg " he had obviously heard stories of how some Kings of Winter could slip into animals' skin and use them to scout ahead of their armies. The last man to possess such a skill was supposedly Brynden Bloodraven the bastard son of Aegon IV and now the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark possessed it. Such a boy would be a blessing to the Northern armies and lesser the men who knew about it the better.
For now he would prepare his men and march and tomorrow they would lift a siege.
Jaekar Targaryen/Jon Snow.
The Ramparts of Winterfell.
Once again he stood atop the Wall of Winterfell, hopefully the last time with the intention of defending it.
The enemy marched not numbering more than fifteen hundred. Hundreds had died of their burns in the last three days, and today once again the enemy assaulted the walls shouting war cries and calling for vengeance for their fallen comrades.
As they came closer the experienced archers, crossbowmen and those on the ballistas and mounted crossbows opened fire once again, except this time they were using normal arrows and bolts.
With the enemy fully committed to the battle Jaekar gave a command to one of his boys, the boy in question launched an exploding bolt high up at an angle of 90 degrees. The bolt exploded high up in a red explosion giving the Relief army the sign to attack.
And Jaekar for the first time since his coming to this world used a shout in battle.
" Raan Mir Tah "
He shouted followed by.
" Mid Vur Shaan "
Ser Wendel Manderly,
The Relief Army, Outside Winterfell.
He rode through the woods across the hill leading the Manderly and Ryswell cavalry as soon as he saw the explosion in the sky. It was just as the boy had said. The Ironborn were perfectly lined up with the fort, ready to be slaughtered.
It was then when a voice thunder through the sky in a language he didn't know yet he didn't stop, he felt more rejuvenated, he felt his blood course through his veins calling for his enemies blood. Yelling a battlecry he led his troops into the fray. Some howls drew his attention to the left and that's when he saw it, a pack of wolves rushinh down the hill aiming straight for the enemy, led by a giant, a freak no… neither a giant nor a freak, a direwolf , a freaking direwolf.
Euron Greyjoy,
Outside The Walls of Winterfell.
Today he had ridden into battle for the first time since they arrived, all the times before he had led from the rear yet today he had to if he didn't want his men to desert.
Yet as he rushed forward he couldn't help but think something was wrong, as the volleys came he raised his shield absorbing them. Then the both exploded and those thunderous sounds came and never had he ever felt so demoralised than this. And as he turned he saw a cavalry charging down upon them and this was the moment Euron Greyjoy knew how badly he had fucked this up.
In front he watched as the gate opened with the garrison sallying out to meet them. He did the only thing that made sense… he ran.
Riding through his own men who were completely broken and up for slaughter he ran.
But before he could even ride through the field he was taken on by a pack of wolves and that within a moment descended upon his horse throwing him down, a moment later surrounded him and descended upon him and all he could do was scream.
Winterfell, A Week Later,
Ser Lyn Corbray, The Knights of the Vale.
As Ser Lyn Corbray led his host of two thousand Knights of the Vale north towards Winterfell he expected a fortress heavily under siege, with the garrison barely holding on. They would ride in, lifting the siege like it was often said in songs.
Yet nothing prepared him for the welcome he got, the only thing he got from the enemy were their heads on a wall of spikes adoring Winterfell perimeter. With one name on every Northman's lips Jon Snow " The Bloody White Hungry Wolf " of The North.
Authors Note :-
There you have it, I decided to have the entire siege in one single chapter.
Next Up :-Ned and Catelyn POV, reactions and aftermath
Please comment your thoughts down below.