DISCLAIMER: I do not own the franchises that inspired my work.
It has been hours since the battle ended. The sun is high in the heavily clouded sky, the Asur army spending the rest of last night and the following morning resting after the clean up of the battlefield and the tallying of their losses. They have lost six hundred and forty four combatants, the vast majority thankfully only wounded and can be healed back to fighting shape. The remaining few are those who have lost a limb or two and cannot fight as well as they could again, and the final deaths are at a merciful one hundred and eighteen. Their bodies have had their funeral rites according to their kingdom of origin and their wayshards have been retrieved, the spirits of the fallen warriors kept safe within to await the erecting of a waystone in the colony yet to be founded. The human bodies, however were once again stripped of equipment then gathered into great pits and set alight by the few remaining mages that have yet to collapse from exhaustion and magical overuse. The pits have only burned out when the sun has near reached the apex of its rise, which is afternoon.
By that time the army's ranks has been replenished by elves that healed from light wounds and fresh troops brought ashore until their numbers once again reach two thousand. More are arriving by order of general Marcus, for the high elves will not let this unwarranted attack against them go unanswered.
"We must find out where they came from." Harrond began the meeting with the other leaders. "We cannot let them get away with this without consequences. We have done nothing, recieved no messages, only an act of aggression they cannot hope to obfuscate." Grim faces and agreeing nods all around recieved his words. Almost everyone from the first meeting is present, barring mistress Mylena who remained behind in the fleet, and Dragon Princess Neruna patrolling the sky on her mount.
"Our minds are one on this, Dragon Prince." Falandris spoke up. "Yet I must advice a more careful reprisal. The entire human populace cannot be united in cause to the ones who attacked us, and on the day the fleet has reached this land our rangers have reported sightings of a significant number of slaves amongst them."
"Slavery is a mark of cruelty and sloth." The Ranger Lord chimed in. Even now his face remains covered by mask and shadow, and his quite presence had almost everyone in the command pavillion
forget he is around, his sudden statement garnering startled glances and sharp intakes of breath by the occupants. Harrond envied the Loremaster's unbroken composure.
"So in our retaliation we will not target the slaves and the unarmed civilians. Is everyone agreed?" Harrond asks, and when after a brief moment everyone gave their affirmations, he nodded and continued.
"Excellent. But before we could begin to reach the point of pacifying the populace, we will inevitably have to deal with the warriors left behind to guard their home, and what survivors managed to make it back. I say we show no mercy for such unwarranted aggression against us. Anyone armed and armored are to be seen as enemies and be put to the sword. Is everyone agreed?" He recieved unanimous agreemeent immediately, grim nods and the general pounding a fist on the table showing their feelings on the matter.
"With the rules of engagement set, we can then go ahead with our plans. We will strike swiftly, crush any opposition and take over the human's city. With it secured, we can more readily gather information of this new land we have reached. May Isha guide our steps."
The Iron Islands are an archipelago consisting of rocky lands and barely fertile soil. Even then pines and aspen can be found in all the islands, though never in high numbers due to the islander's insatiable need for more timber to build their ships with. As a result the forests here are much reduced and the trees not as large and tightly placed as they could be, except for those in the hidden valleys and groves deep in the center of Great Wyk. An army could march with relative ease.
The glittering host marches between the spacious forest, orderly files of troops passing between trunks and traversing small ditches and streams as they followed the guide marks left behind by the rangers who went ahead. Between the crowns of pine and aspen trees, Harrond can see the army as they marched towards their destination. Once again he rides atop Naemirinir, keeping just ahead of the army along with fresh Skycutters who weren't around in the previous battle, General Marcus flying around somewhere in the formation around the army. Dragon Princess Neruna flies alongside him to his left, riding her own mount Kardraghnir. The army marches southwards, following the path which the humans used to travel to their outpost and the direction the first initial scouts found the human's city. At their current regular pace, they would reach their destination within three hours, plenty of time before the sun begins to set. Plans and contingencies have been set in stone before the army began their march so all he has to do now is keep watch and find a way to alleviate the eventual boredom. He looks to his left where Neruna flies alongside him.
"I would ask for your thoughts, Princess Neruna." He called out to her, hoping to hold a conversation longer than curt greetings and reports to him.
"What would you wish to now, Prince Harrond?" She replied, her mount moving nearer to close the distance. They were flying at a sedate pace, for dragons, so the wind blowing past wasn't loud enough to muffle their conversation.
"Of this new land, what you imagine our people's future here could be and such. It could be anything, princess." He clarified with a sweeping wave of his arm at the lands below. At the mountain range to their left stretching near unbroken from north to south, the forests and open fields passing by. "I will not have a fellow peer of Caledor unheard and unheeded."
From what he could see through her more encompassing helmet she looked to be considering his questions, turning his words around on her mind looking for hidden meanings or a motive beneath the benign query. Which would be irritating if he didn't understand where she came from. Her princely house is known to be one of the more vicious and underhanded amongst the usually noble, if supremely arrogant Caledorian aristocracy. Observers subtly hidden around her and quitely inquiring of her personality from those whom she spoke with revealed a woman almost completely different from the rest of her family. And that she remained without a dragon for so long until the previous decade, when she rode into a celebration in her family's palace riding her dragon and bringing in an elder manticore's corpse from the mountains. The wroth in her father's face that day showed more than anything to the rest of the attendees the scandalous possibilty that she was denied a draconic companion as was her heritage by her own sire. A noble born of Caledor, kept from gaining the awesome service of a dragon? Until that day there never was a house that lost so much standing amongst the high born.
"This land we found is barren. Our people cannot live here." She finally answered, turning to look straight at him. "Unless this changes further inland or so we must set sail again." Harrond nodded at her as she went on, now using gestures to go along with her explanation. "If the humans here show the same sophistication as the ones we fought, using iron in their weapons, tools and armor, we cannot get bogged down in conflict. Our people are masters of the sea, so preferably the colony should be founded on an island of moderate size. If not, a shielded harbor with natural defenses inland would be the criteria for a good second choice. An active volcano would be a pleasant surprise but..."
She looked ready to go on but caught herself, ceasing her hand waving. She averted her gaze for a brief moment, then looked to him again, her eyes the only thing he could see of her face. "That will be all from me, prince."
"Your insight is valuable and I thank you for it." He said to her, mentally patting himself on the back for getting her to talk more. "And indeed, the dragons would be very pleased if we find them a volcano to dig a home for themselves in." He paused then, flipped a coin in his mind and made a snap decision.
"A final question, if I may?" At her tentative nod he continued. "What do you think of having humans as citizens?"
Neruna looked surprised at that, her eyes widening at his query. She looked ready to give a quick answer but restrained herself, thinking more heavily on his words.
"Think on it, princess. I'll await your answer." He decided to give her time and space to think for now, banking away on Naemirinir as he left her to ponder on his idea many would think absurd.
She had yet to give him an answer when he caught sight of the human's city on the horizon, an hour later.
The town's atmosphere was rife with anticipation, nervousness and panic. The army lord Goodbrother led to drive back the invaders were instead annihilated, a few dozen trembling wrecks the only ones to return by the time the sun rose. They told as much to the others when they got there, telling of arrows that rained nigh constantly, of a wall of shields and spears that never faltered, the barrages of magic cast by the witches and the fiery doom from the sky destroying the rest of the army. They spoke of the tall men in gleaming white and silver, of their knights suffering not a single loss, of the dragons under the control of their sorcerers and that the enemy will march here and doom everyone. Their tales shook everyone who heard to the core, many refusing to believe the more fantastical elements, amongst the disbelievers is the heir, Gerald Goodbrother, who ordered what he saw as cowards executed and their bodies left to rot on the ground, unworthy of a burial at sea. He also said that the men who ran told them exaggerations and outright lies, believing that his fathers army inflicted a grievous blow against the invaders and retreated somewhere else. He ordered that the town prepare itself for a siege, the remaining one hundred and fifty reavers put in his command taking the food from the town and storing them in the castle. No home was spared, violence was inflicted on thrall and even ironborn families who resisted and when the reavers and some people deemed important was all in the castle, the gates were barred. The more intelligent ones who were left out rushed the docks, taking what valuables they can and boarding the ships that remained moored.
The populace weren't blind though. They saw the relatively wealthy fleeing to the ships and put two and two together and now a riot is occuring, people fighting for a place on the ships. The thralls, however were stuck to the outskirts of the town, the Ironborn banding together whenever they saw a large group of them attempting to escape on the boats. A few ships has managed to escape and the riot was still ongoing when a sharp-eyed boy standing on the roof of a building caught a glimpses of colour on the skies towards the north. Focusing there he saw massive flying beasts, two looking like lizards with wings and a relatively smaller blue bird with more legs than it should flying straight towards them.
"Ware! To the north! Listen to me!" He cried to the crowds below. He repeated until he saw many looking up to him. "The runners spoke true! The enemy has monsters with them! They fly now towards us!" At his words the crowd descended into further panic, blood now beginning to fly as desperation eroded what little unity the people had. Here a man stabbed his friend when he got in the way, there men pushed others out of the ship they claimed as they struggled to get it out into open waters, the victims falling into the water. Some had even outright lost their minds, judging by the screams of women beginning to sound out. All this the boy saw and heard, watching as his people became no better than the greenlanders they frequently raided. The image of the strong and righteous warriors deserving everything they take breaking in his mind with every moment that passes. The sound of the foreign high horns from the north only hastening it.
In the shadows of the dragons' wings they emerged from the forest. A solid wall of whites, reds, blues and greens coming together in perfect lines as the army marched. Their helmets were tall, their spears taller and the knights wield gleaming lances atop magnificent steeds. All this the people on the northern outskirts and on the castle walls can see, fear and dread mounting at the way the invading host's soldiery shine resplendent, weapons and armor shimmering in the light of the sun and banners of strange symbols and beasts flowing in the breeze. The heir Goodbrother was shaking at the sight, his belief in his father's army dealing a grievous blow on the enemy proven false. Downdelving's maester, unlike many others around him on the battlements looking in various levels of fear and dread, was looking at the flying creatured with eager curiosity, never having seen such fantastic creatures before. More of the high horns sounded, in a short pattern this time and then from the enemy army's flanks the cavalry rushed forward.
"Secure the outskirts!" Aslan commanded leading his five bundred Silver Helms on a gallop towards the space between the castle on the mountainside and the human's town. There were some from the castle who tried to shoot down at them when they rode past, but their pathetic attempts failed to do anything, many falling woefully short and a bare handful bouncing off their raised shields. "Ensure no-one escapes! Regiment, disperse!"
"By your orders, High Helm!" His soldiers acknowledged his command, Feather Helms leading the four other companies separate from his company until they too separated into lances of ten knights led by lance leaders until they have spread enough to cover the surrounding lands in a semi-circle from the coast to out of bow range from the castle, south and on the opposite side of the town. Now anyone seeking to retreat south won't be able to.
The rest of the army marched forward sedately, confident that the humans won't be abe put up any sort of stiff resistance. Spearmen lead the way, closely followed by the regiment-sized warband of rangers who will be more suited to house to house conflict if they had to. The archers followed at the rear, with the wagons of supplies the Asur brought with them just in case.
A sudden change of weather could have delayed the convoy of transport and Hawk ships, all lead by an Eagleship, carrying more supplies and reinforcements, but the weather remained bright and near cloudless. The ships rushed forward to blockade the harbor in the small bay, cutting off the exit.
The Skycutters began circling the air above the town, ensuring any flying threat could be spotted soon and countered. At a predetermined distance the army split, a regiment of spearmen and archers going off the guard against the castle and block any sallyong attempt, under the command of the noble who distinguished himself before, lord Arlendil. The other half, composed of the second regiments of spearmen, archers and the warband of rangers halted one hundred and fit yards from the waist high fence enclosing the town. Lady Silvia leads this one, riding forwards to the front of the army. From there she surveyed what lay before her, and find it... very disappointing.
Ramshackle, disorganized, poor materials, dirty, smelly... the list could go on. The people dwelling within are a fractious, miserable lot, even now unable to present even an image of unity against them, quarreling and fighting amongst themselves, what few who took up arms are the elderly and some youths yet to choose their paths. A mask of disgust was firmly placed on Silvia's face as she continued to look on, only ever softening a miniscule amount at the sight of clearly slaves being forced to the front, iron collars on their necks and manacles on their limbs showing their status. Their trembling figures and fearful, resigned expressions further support this.
"Sentinel Maedros." She called out, the elf stepping forward from the front ranks in his more decorated armor, braids of gold going under his right shoulder and pinned by an eagle medallion on his right breast denoting him as commander of the regiment. "Your orders?"
"The slaves are to be treated well. Subdue them with relative care. Anyone without a collar and brandishing weapons are to be treated as enemy combatants. Kill or capture them as your men see fit."
"As you command." Sentinel Maedros assented with a respectful nod, turning around and relaying her orders to his subordinates. Soon after the first company began to march forward, shields locked together and facing front. Rangers trailed their sides, helmets and masks hiding their faces as they brandished weapons more suitable for the coming battle. She stays behind, watching the spearmen split into two columns on either side of her, rangers in the middle as the first rank soon met the poorly armed slaves at the simple gates. They charge the wall of shields, crying out in desperation and despair as they tried to fight. Emphasis on "tried", for the ragged mob was stopped cold by stalwart Asur who kept going, pushing past the weak and feeble mob in a wedge that forced the slaves to the sides in small numbers. There they were then disarmed of their makeshift weapons, brought to the back and made to sit down with gestures, guarded by more spearmen and later to be given food and looked over by healers. The magnanimous gestures are sure to gain their loyalty over their cruel masters.
'Besides, even humans do deserve the right of freedom. Only those corrupted by Chaos would gleefully enslave and defile other thinking beings.' Silvia thought, watching her forces split themselves further to restore order the city. Reinforcements will arrive via the ships that followed them south, she could see a pair of them now sailing into the bay, ships filled by elven warriors ready and willing to disembark.
A.N. - Here you guys go, another chapter. For concerns:
GodsgiftFires - Interesting idea, however in this story the Children had long since loft the south, fleeing up the Neck towards the last bastion of Old Gods worship. The Doom of Valyria only added to their troubles. It will take until some elf wanders nearby a Weirwood tree for the Children to know about them.
ATP - Though magic wanes in this era and the Andals absolutely murdered the magic users, there is still some below the Neck who dabbles in the arts.
Guest Nov 15 - Why would it be a Stark wank?