Coming of the Red Anchor

Letters and Defence

Kings Landing

Tyrion

Being acting Hand was not as fun or as interesting as he'd hoped it would be. He spent most of his time countering the stupidity of his sister while also trying to keep the peace in a city under blockade and lacking food. The only food they received now was from the Crownlands and they didn't give much so as to spite the non-Targaryens currently on the throne, which they'd ever done since Robert took the throne and then punished the Crownlands with heavy taxes. He didn't drink as much due to being so busy, which he thought added to his misery, plus the smell of the city still got to him at times. Gods he hated Kings Landing sometimes.

At least he had increased the goldcloaks to over 5,000 and had them training often so they should be able to put up a fight. Not that it'll be much of one given Renly was amassing his combined Stormlands and Reach host of 70,000 just north of the Kingswood. They were fucked in all honesty. He'd tried purchasing sellswords, which had worked to some degree, but only by promising them food and housing and spoils from the battle rather than money up front or after. It had gotten out that Casterly Rock had fallen and thus Lannister gold was useless and had probably been stolen by now which meant he'd had to find alternative means of payment. Still, he had raised an extra thousand swords so with the gold cloaks plus those houses nearest to the capital he had managed to get himself seven thousand men in all.

Then his sister had the brilliant, note the sarcasm, idea of using wildfire. The fool, what did she think she was doing using that stuff? It could easily destroy the city if it's not handled correctly and he doubted she'd handle it the right way. The pyromancers had a few thousand containers left over from mad King Aerys stored under their Guild building which Tyrion had, upon learning off, acquired from his sister's control. The Alchemists' Guild was now making many more batches but it was slow going even with a sudden ability to make it better they explained. Still, it was better than none and he could have it placed on catapults located behind the walls so as to launch it over them and at the enemy. He'd also ordered more scorpions to line the walls as well as for carpenters and engineers to shore up the Mud Gate as it was the weakest of the city's many gates. He just hoped his father was able to help, he doubted it would be enough to beat the Tyrell army.

A slow shuffle scratched at the stone flooring outside his solar along with the sound of chains jangling before a knock came at the door which disturbed him from his work. He called to whoever it was and Grand Maester Pycelle shuffled in, wheezing slightly from a clearly long walk.

"My lord Hand, a letter for you" he rasped out, followed by a cough. 'Gods, he couldn't make it more obvious it was fake if he tried' Tyrion groaned mentally at Pycelle's act.

"Who's it from?" Tyrion asked, sitting back in his chair and stretching slightly to get the kinks out of his back.

"I believe it to be from Lord Stannis on Dragonstone Lord Hand. He seems to have changed his sigil to that of a stag surrounded by a flaming heart. No doubt he has converted to the religion of R'hllor my lord. Heathens and heretics that lot and him as well no doubt now, you can't trust them my lord" Pycelle cautioned.

"Thank you Grand Maester but I had best read what the Master of Ships wants. Hopefully he is pledging fealty to Joffrey and the crown" He took the proffered letter and broke the flaming stag wax seal. He opened it hopefully and began to read.

Lord Tyrion Lannister, acting Hand of Tommen Waters,
I, Stannis of House Baratheon, along with Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Ser Barristan Selmy, do hereby declare and swear by the Old Gods and the New, that the supposed children of King Robert are the bastard children of the incest between Jaime Lannister and his sister Cersei and thus have no legal claim to the throne.
By right of blood, conquest and law, Jaehaerys Targaryen, trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and his second wife Lyanna Stark, is hereby declared King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Surrender immediately to royal forces and swear allegiance or be rooted out as traitors.
Signed
Stannis Baratheon, Hand of the King and Lord of Dragonstone
Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North
Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard

Tyrion gulped nervously and reached for the jug of wine and poured himself a glass. He downed it quickly, without taking a breath.

"My lord Hand, are you well?" Pycelle asked worriedly.

"Fine Grand Maester, just fine. Gods, we are truly fucked" he replied weakly before banging his head on the table to bemoan his fate and the stupidity of his sister and brother.

Harrenhal

Tywin

The siege had been going for almost a sennight now and showed no sign of stopping. In all honesty he wasn't sure what their goal was by doing this. Harrenhal had fresh water from the Gods Eye so they wouldn't lack that, food though and other supplies they would soon drain and they had no way to re-supply. Not when the Gods Eye was being watched for boats. In all, they could last a few moons most likely though perhaps that was the goal, while he was stuck inside here the Riverlanders could gather a host to secure their border with the Westerlands and Stark had time to go rally the Vale. It's what he would do and it was a good plan. With both the Vale and Riverlands rallied there'd be more than enough men to successfully assault the ruin of Harrenhal. While he was ruminating on his own plans to escape the siege in the Kingspyre Tower, the castle Maester, one called Tothmure, came into the room, his chain rattling slightly.

"What is it Maester that brings you here?" Tywin said coolly, not looking away from his maps arrayed upon the desk he sat at.

"Pardon the intrusion my lord, a raven was allowed through" he answered cautiously, before handing over the scroll.

"Allowed?"

"Yes my lord, I believe given the direction it came from they let it through." Tywin grunted. The besieging forces had been shooting down all ravens approaching or trying to leave Harrenhal, it had been most...annoying. So for them to purposely let one through… He reached out and took it before looking at the seal and spotting the rampant stag of House Baratheon though it was slightly different than usual. He frowned, trying to place it.

"House Baratheon?" he queried.

"Yes my lord, I believe it's from Lord Stannis, he may have converted to the religion of R'hllor as it is rumoured one of their red priestesses is on Dragonstone. Hence the flaming heart my lord."

"I see." He broke the seal and opened the letter to read its contents.

He was momentarily struck dumb. What the letter contained was… No he could not contemplate it. It could not be true. It had to be filthy lies that just happened to support those lords' statement. It must be lies, Cersei would not be so stupid to usurp the right of succession with a bastard and not a child of Robert's seed, especially to lay with her twin brother. They were Lannisters gods dammit, not filthy Targaryens. 'But it could be true, I warned you of this' came a tiny part of his mind which sounded a lot like his late beloved wife. He shook his head dismissing those thoughts. No, it is lies to support their claimant. But what a claimant they'd chosen.

He'd expected Stannis to claim the throne for himself and fight against Renly while he fought the rebellious Starks but now he faced an even larger force which had arrayed itself against him. What annoyed him more was that Ser Barristan was now Commander of the Kingsguard to this boy. 'Damn them, why couldn't she or Tyrion have kept Selmy, he would have been a boon to their cause and now he was with their enemies.' And now he had another Targaryen to defeat, this one with a probable grudge against him for the necessary killing of Rhaegar's other children. Could it be lies too? The timeline did match he could grudgingly admit. A child could have been sired since the two young fools were out of the war for moons before Rhaegar showed up at Kings Landing to lead the royal army against Robert. Was the boy true-born though? He wasn't sure, and in all likelihood it would not matter since he would still have a decent claim and would pull support from around the realm. This boy needed to be defeated and quickly before more houses rallied to the Starks or else House Lannister may fall like the Tarbucks and Reynes.

Further pondering were disturbed by a knock at the door and a man, Ser Robert Brax he thought distractedly, came inside at Tywin's command. He looked incredibly nervous Tywin thought as he took in the man. "What is is Brax?" Twin asked sharply.

"Er, my lord, there's...well there's..." he started nervously

"Well?! Spit it out man! Stop gawping and say it!" Tywin snapped angrily, interrupting the babbling man. Was he surrounded by fools?

"Best you see it yourself my lord" the man finally said after taking a calming breath. Tywin arched an inquisitive eyebrow at the man who seemed to plead with him to follow. He sighed before grabbing his sword and strapping it to his waste. He then looked sharply at the man who nodded to him. "This way my lord, to the northern walls."

Brax led Tywin back down the tower to a stone bridge and then out onto the massive battlements. As he followed the man he pondered what could have disturbed him so, he hoped the contents of the letter had not yet spread. He noticed as he went the various soldiers and guards muttering to themselves and seemingly passing along whatever news had been heard. He caught the odd word about 'three headed', 'ghosts come back to haunt the Lord Hand' and worryingly 'dragons, I swear they said it was dragons'. When he eventually reached the point Brax wanted him, the man pointed out at the fields and woods surrounding the great fortress.

All around the castle were the many tents, pieces of siege equipment and camps of the large northern host which outnumbered his own by a few thousand. It had been confirmed that the Stark boy, though it was Lord Stark now since Eddard had returned, had around 24,000 with him. And they were all around this castle. Tywin had just under 18,000 with his sellswords (The Brave Companions), The Mountain and Lorch all being outside the walls with another thousand between them, raiding and pillaging the area. He knew not if they'd been caught and killed yet however. He surveyed the scene and could see many wolf banners of the Starks, the chained giants of Umber and the bears of Mormont set up in an organised fashion. He knew from the reports that the various vassals were encamped all around the fortress with no one area particularly weaker than the other. He could breach a position but he would need his whole host and the Starks would quickly move to reinforce the position thus keeping him trapped inside.

He looked over the fluttering banners again and spotted one that stood out for all the wrong reasons. One that broke the cool, stone faced facade he had cultivated over the years. One that made him gasp softly in shock. One that did make him ever so slightly worried. The red three headed dragon on a black field. The banner of House Targaryen. The banner of the new claimant to the throne. The banner of the enemy.

Edge of the Kingswood

Olenna Tyrell

She'd been momentarily stunned when she had gotten the news over a sennight ago from her little bee in Renly's small host which had travelled to Storm's End. The honourable Lord Eddard Stark had lied to everyone, including his wife, about his supposed bastard son who was not in fact a bastard but was actually Rhaegar's son by Lyanna Stark. She had mentally slapped herself for not looking into it earlier. It was all so obvious now but no one had questioned the word of the honourable northerner who was best friends with the new king. They'd just assumed it was a stain on his honour and he was now doing the honourable thing by taking the boy in. They were half right but so wrong.

And best of all? Said child now had the North, the Riverlands and the Lord of Dragonstone Stannis Baratheon on his side. Well didn't that make things interesting? Not only that but her bee had heard that Ser Barristan Selmy had gone over to the Targaryen too after his ridiculous dismissal. This would make claiming the throne quite awkward, since if Renly's older brother was supporting him it would take legitimacy away from Renly. She consoled herself that the news was not yet out and that Renly had almost 100,000 swords at his command with ten thousand of them back at Highgarden with her oaf of a son. Meanwhile they had ridden towards Renly with 60,000.

She sighed. She knew trying to put Renly on the throne was a bad idea, especially with Stannis still around and the Starks marching south. How could the younger brother usurp the elder she'd asked but no, her oaf of a son Mace and her idiot grandson Loras wanted their man on the throne with Margery by his side. She just hoped Renly could manage to get her with child at least once. She'd doubted he could given his preferences with Loras, which she did know about (as did half the realm she suspected). Unfortunately there was no sign of that and Margery had shaken her head a few times when she'd silently asked. 'Bloody fools the lot of them' she silently cursed.

The tent flap opened and Randyll Tarly came in. "My lady" he said, as cool and collected as ever.

"What is it Lord Tarly? I thought you were to be leaving shortly to meet Renly so as to march on the capital?"

"We are, I was just here to inform we are about to move out and to give you this." He passed over a letter, a broken wax seal indicating it had already been read. "It was addressed to the Lord of Tumbleton, Lord Footly, I suspect similar letters have been sent across the realm to every keep, town and city. Lord Footly wanted you to see this, he sent it via rider." he reported. She took it and read the letter quickly, Tarly standing there observing her. 'No doubt wanting my reaction to it' she grumbled. And what a letter it was.

Claiming the former king's children were bastards, and bastards born of incest at that, was a very bold and serious claim, one the Old Lion won't like and neither will Cersei. She smirked at the lioness getting into a fit about it telling the truth. And the truth it was given the late boy king Joffrey's appearance and behaviour from all Olenna had heard. It was even more likely to be the truth given who had signed the letter. All three were the most incorruptible and honourable of men she knew in the realm, even if she thought them fools for their honour and dedication to duty all the time. There was a place for both after all but all three men took it further than it ought and it stopped them playing the game as it was meant to be played. It also meant the news of the Targaryen would spread if it had been sent everywhere. News that could unseat House Tyrell if not handled correctly. Meaning handled by herself and not by her son. Still the news of Rhaegar's son was something that could rally quite a few houses given how beloved the prince had been. "What is your take on it Lord Tarly?"

"If true, and given who signed it I have no reason to doubt that it is, it both adds to His Grace Renly's claim and hinders it. I will merely follow as commanded by my liege" he replied steadily. She mentally scoffed. 'You would support the Targaryen if you could you mean' But Tarly was loyal she could not deny, despite her fool of a son taking the man's glory for being the one to actually defeat Robert Baratheon.

"How many know?"

"The whole camp will no doubt soon know my lady, there was no reason or way to hide it if it has been sent to as many keeps and towns as we think. They want support so sending many would aid in that search." She nodded in agreement. Yes that was likely too. Soon the whole realm will know and have to take sides.

"How soon do you meet with Renly then?"

"I'm leaving a portion here to guard supplies and yourself and Queen Margery, it should then take about a day's march from here. Renly is under a day away from the meeting where the Kings Road and the Rose Road meet spot as it is. After that we march on the capital. It's about a day's march from there. So we should be surrounding the capital in under three days" the main military commander of the army reported.

"Good, lets hope we get this finished quickly. The northerners have the Old Lion trapped at Harrenhal and Casterly Rock has fallen. We can win if Renly moves quickly enough and takes the capital, the others will have to capitulate then."

"Indeed, that was most impressive given the small force used to seize the Rock. I'm sure Lord Tywin is screaming with fury" a small smirk graced the man's hard face briefly before disappearing. Olenna chuckled.

"Yes the Old Lion is certainly going to be fuming at the moment. Very well, I grow tired of this, be off and make my grand-daughter queen." Tarly took the abrupt finish with a stiff nod and walked out the tent leaving Olenna to stew on just what to do about the news of a dragon returning.

xxxxx

Randyll Tarly didn't quite know what to make of the news himself as he led the army towards Renly. He was glad his prince had been redeemed and the truth of that bloody rebellion was known but equally he was, for now, on the opposing side and more than likely to have to fight him at some point. He fumed slightly at be slights Mace Tyrell gave and yet as his liege lord he could do nothing to rectify it as there had been no wars to fight and Mace increasingly came up with stupider and stupider ideas. Supporting Renly over Stannis was one of them in his mind. That Stannis now support the true prince and future king made it worse as well.

At least his eldest son, and gods wasn't that a jape, Samwell was well away from here and now at the Wall. Hopefully the craven fat fool of a son could man up for once or at least die with some dignity. He'd received no raven yet so the boy must still live. Maybe he could do some good after all if he proves man enough to survive the Wall. At least he had a son and heir worthy of the Tarly name and legacy in Dickon. This would be his first campaign, and hopefully not his last. The boy was green but not untrained and showed decent swordsmanship and a small ability to command though it was but a seed, it would grow if given time.

Still, the news of a Targaryen was something to ponder. He glanced at some of his fellow lords, seeing who might be loyal to the dragons still and who would need some encouraging. 'Lord Rowan, Ser Baelor Hightower and Lord Mullendore were possibly the best people to talk to' he thought as he rode at the head of a host of 50,000 down the Rose Road. All three houses had independent streaks to them which separated them from the Tyrells occasionally, though Lady- no Queen, Margery was a daughter of a Hightower. 'Perhaps best to leave Hightower alone before we know what we face' Randyll pondered. He knew what he needed to do; preserve the Reach forces that were pro-Targaryen in case they lost against the capital. Though given they would soon number 70,000 he did not see how they could loose. Best to be prepared for anything and if they lost? Well, he wanted to be ready to serve the true king of Westeros.

Casterly Rock

Warrington

He'd left for the Rock the day the northern host left Riverrun and had arrived a few days after that host had surrounded Harrenhal. The trip had been easy enough, ride to Seagard and then catch one of his war galleys down the coast to the Rock. Thankfully the Ironborn had stayed away and the wind had been on their side. It had been unnerving somewhat that the sea in Ironman's Bay was so quiet, perhaps a recon mission to the Iron Islands was needed to ensure their continued silence.

He sat in Tywin's solar reading up on the reports of the raiding and harassing his vessels had conducted to keep the Westerlands lords from mounting any naval offensive. It had worked so far with most of the coastal lords now lacking any naval presence at all, House Britanican ruled the waves. The other report he had been reading over had been on the situation within the Rock itself.

Genna Lannister and her Frey husband were under lock and key in their rooms and a young girl called Joy Hill was kept with them, a bastard daughter of another Lannister who had dies apparently. The most important of the reports was the one he was reading now with General Marks and Admiral Cosmo present.

"You mean to tell me the mines are dry?" he asked in surprise.

"Almost dry according to the engineers and the miners we managed to get talking" explained Marks. "Most were quite stiff about not talking to us which didn't bother us too much as our engineers could look it over easily. From what they could tell, at current rates, the mines will be dry in two to three years."

"They've mined all the gold?!" Warrington exclaimed.

"Nearly all but then they've been mining here for around 5,000 years, it's no surprise it would run dry. Although it's technically not."

"Technically not? How can it be technically not? There's either gold left or there isn't surely?" Warrington questioned.

"It's dry by their standards sir. We had one of our drones conduct X-ray, Infra-Red, thermal imaging and a few other types of scans of the Rock; we found a couple of large but pretty much inaccessible veins. We could get it using modern mining methods, explosives and machines but these people would believe that the mountain was dry."

"I see. Well then, get what gold we can north. I'm sure I already ordered that but best to reinforce it. Get what we can out. If we are forced to leave I want them to have as little gold left as possible. Now are we secure?"

"We have reinforce the Lion's Mouth with machine gun nests and the lower walls are fully manned. We can hold out as long as we want with supplied brought in by sea sir."

"Excellent, the Lion's Mouth will be a kill zone that will be impossible to breach. And news from the sea admiral?"

"All quiet James. Little to report in all honesty. Though maybe that's the thing. The Iron Born are too quiet. I've sent the USS Iowa under Captain Henley to check the islands out and report back. We should know in a day or two."

"Good, in the mean time send one or two of our older galleys back and transfer the crews to the Victory and Interceptor projects, they need crews and manpower plus we can scrap the old galleys for use in other things." Cosmo nodded and made a mental note. A knock came at the door disturbing them.

"Come" Warrington called and a guard came in.

"Sorry sirs, there's something you need to see. They're here." The three men shared a worried look before getting up and leaving the room, heading for the battlements.

The walk was brisk but not hurried. They walked down a few corridors, Lannister servants quickly getting out of the way while hiding scowls at the invaders, to a square stone floored courtyard before heading up some grey stone steps by a wall and up onto the battlements themselves standing behind the merlons. Looking out between them they could a large order mass of people approaching the Rock. The Lannister host was here.

"They appear to be amassing a few troops" joked Warrington weakly. The others remained stone faced but they did slightly twitch at the mouth. Indeed from the walls a sea of men stretching far around the base of the Rock could be seen. A dozen wooden ladders and a siege tower were all that was there in terms of siege equipment. Flags and sigils fluttered in the breeze showing many of the remaining lords of the Westerlands in attendance. "Do we have estimates?"

"We believe around ten thousand, perhaps twelve" Cosmo answered.

"They have numbers but they still have to go through the Lion's Mouth. They won't get far" added Marks viciously.

"Good, then lets give them a warm welcome when they no doubt enter the Lion's Mouths. Alert the men, take us to Defcon 1 as it were."

"Understood my lord, though you know we don't use that any more right?"

"It was a slight joke on my part admiral. Now get the men ready" Warrington commanded, determined to hold the line against the Lannister host and keep Tywin out of his home.

Ser Stafford Lannister

He was worried. In fact terrified would be more accurate. If he'd had his way he'd have taken his host from Oxcross, down to the Golden Tooth and then out towards Riverrun to return the favour for Casterly Rock. There was two problems with that wish however. One was that the Riverlands was slowly building a host between the Golden Tooth and Riverrun which currently numbered some ten thousand, roughly equal to his own host. The second problem with his wish, and the most important, was that Lord Tywin Lannister had directly ordered him to go to Casterly Rock and kill every single intruder, down to the last. No exceptions.

And so he rode for three days to near the base of Casterly Rock and began a siege. He'd taken the extra day to stop nearby to the Rock and build a siege tower and ladders from the nearby woods, before carrying on to start the siege using his scavenged and motley host of green boys, old men, freeriders, a few sellswords and some castle guards and men-at-arms donated by the many houses from across the Westerlands. He didn't particularly want to attack Casterly Rock, everyone knew how impregnable it was despite the northerners somehow taking it. The Rock was too steep for many, if any, to climb up the cliff faces to the walls, which were high up the aforementioned cliffs, and which were well patrolled from what little he could see. The walls also possessed various defences lowered from the top to discourage climbing. Additionally the sea was entirely controlled by northern ships which meant he couldn't sneak into the small port at the rear and base of the cliff. This left him only one entrance point; the Lion's Mouth.

Roland Crakehall and himself shared a few nervous glances when they eyed the Mouth, the sole entrance to the Rock and wide enough for twenty riders. They both knew they'd need to risk attacking that way, if only to see how defended the northerners had made it. He suspected from what he remembered that only three or four dozen were needed to hold it given what defences he knew were already present. "Good luck my lord. I will hold here and try to get some climbers going. Take a few thousand and assault the Mouth. May the Seven be with you."

"Thank you Ser Stafford, and may the Seven be with you as we drive these heathens out from the Rock." With that Lord Crakehall rode off and began gather the four thousand he would lead to the Mouth. As he did that Stafford turned and began to rally his men to get the tower and ladders ready as well as prepare the men who would attempt to climb the cliff face and enter over the walls. Gods he really did not like this but orders were orders, and one did not refuse orders from the Old Lion.

xxxxx

They approached the Lion's Mouth unopposed and with no resistance, confusing them slightly but it was not unexpected. The Mouth was tall, a 200 foot high cavern, but was only wide enough for twenty riders to charge in. They quickly approached the Mouth on foot before forming a shield wall, interlocking their shields interlocked to protect themselves and the man next to them while holding a spear of sword in their free hand.

In lock-step they slowly entered the Mouth, 22 men across and walking at a careful but steady pace. As the front line moved closer to the massive gatehouse that stood over 100 feet high and made of red granite, the men behind the front row raised their ovate and rounded kite shields to protect themselves from the murder holes in the ceiling and the sides, forming what the Britanicans at the gatehouse would call a testudo formation. And still nothing came at them.

By this point almost 900 men had now entered the cavern with more cautiously following and then the screams began. Suddenly there was a roar from the gatehouse like a lion and those to the rear of the army saw white flashes and heard loud bangs and a buzzing sound began while those at the front barely heard the noise before they were screaming and dying. Blood erupted from bodies as men shouted and cried while the buzzing and bangs repeated continuously. More flashes could be seen from the gatehouse as the Lannister men cried out almost as one and began jerking and collapsing to the ground.

Men shouted constantly as holes were punched through their leather covered steel plate armour and finally their bodies without a care by the speeding invisible arrows. The soft rings of something bouncing off armour instead of penetrating was drowned out by the cries of the dying men as blood began to flow freely onto the floor as it spurted from chests, arms, legs and necks or dripped from under their black crested steel and leather helmets. Thousands of bullets filled the air and a few arrows flew across the cavern killing every last man that entered the cavern. No one was spared.

Some soldiers tried to charge the gate house but none got within twenty feet of the gate. Meanwhile others tried to climb the cave walls to escape the kill zone but they were quickly felled as well. One or two tried to organise their remaining fellows but they too were quickly shot, leaving the survivors leaderless and afraid of what to do. These remaining men were then targeted as well, with some diving to the ground to hide under the dead bodies of their compatriots as the ground splintered and spat up dirt from impacts around them.

In the space of around two minutes, over the 800 men were lying on the ground on their backs, on their sides or on their fronts, with blood leaking out from under their armour and cloaks. Some of the unlucky ones had limbs blown off due to the volume of bullets that filled the air and the speed in which they impacted their targets. Only the last two rows managed to get out of the Mouth before they too were cut down by the weapons arrayed against them.

Lord Crakehall was at the rear of the group and he paled in fear and pissed himself, much like the other forty who got out from the Mouth in time, before he too ran from the Mouth. All the men ran outside and away from the mouth regrouping with the remaining three and a bit thousand. By the Seven just what were they going against. Indeed it seemed the Lion's Mouth did roar like a lion and it had chewed them up and torn into their troop, killing them in seconds. It was a slaughter, it was certainly not some glorious battle.

The man was scared but he knew worse could happen to him and his family if he failed to break in and kill the northern barbarians. Tywin would end his line most likely. Knowing this he rallied his remaining host of just over 3,000 men and gathered them a short distance from the Mouth. "Right then men, we know what they got now but I bet it can be sustained. So we are going to keep charging and drive the barbarians out. Those northern heathens will not stand against godly men like us and against the power of the Seven in the Seven's own lands. For House Cakehall! For House Lannister! For the West! And for King Tommen!" he cried, rallying his men and leading them back to the cavern.

This time, dispelling any previous attempts at stealth or protection, the Lannister soldiers charged at the gatehouse in unorganised messy groups, ladders being carried in by different squads in the faint hope that some would get through. Like before the roars did not start until some were two thirds of the way in and then the cries began again with the soldiers beginning to drop while those alive began tripping over their fallen comrades. Before long they too were also being hit by the invisible arrows that cut a swathe through the disorganised lines. Men shouted, screamed and died in seconds as the buzzing and bangs mixed into a roar so loud it could be heard outside by Stafford Lannister, and still the Lannister soldiers charged.

"ATTACK! Attack! Get the ladders to the wall!" Lord Crakehall yelled over the din of screams and bangs. Again and again the Lannister soldiers charged at the gatehouse as they'd been ordered to by their lord and again each wave was repelled and slaughtered before reaching it. After three minutes they could no longer do even that as soon enough they were forced to climb over body mounds of their fallen comrades to even try to approach their target. The demoralized and terrified men were forced to climb over the numerous dead bodies, only to reach and be hit by the small invisible arrows and fall right to the bottom of the pile thus beginning the cycle again.

When five minutes of this hell came to pass the few remaining Lannister soldiers broke and ran, completely trounced, demoralised and destroyed by the defence of the northerners. Left behind were piles of bodies, some ten or twenty high while the final few alive fell from the tops of the mounds to the bottom as others were shot and killed, falling over them. Blood literally painted the ground, barely seen in some cases due to the red cloaks and armour worn by the Lannister men.

And after the last man fell the roar stopped. All that could be heard after five minutes of banging and buzzing were the soft groans and cries and pleas of few slowly dying men and the smell of blood and shit and piss as men lay dead or dying with blood pooling on the stone floor. Within the cavern now lay well over 3500 men. Of the four thousand men that had attacked the Mouth only a 500 would retreat in time to return to Ser Stafford Lannister. Lord Roland Crakehall was not among them. His bloody and battered body would be found hours later under twelve equally bloody bodies. His right hand was missing and his steel plate chest armour had over twenty holes in it along with four bullet size dents from where it had remarkably protected him.

xxxxx

Stafford was pale and weak upon hearing the fate of his comrade Lord Crakehall from the survivors. The man was a fool for repeatedly charging the enemy and now almost four thousand were dead. Four thousand and to show for it they may have killed one by a lucky archer if that. It was a disaster. Now all he had left were his six thousand and he wasn't even sure what to do with them. He turned to give his command to withdraw to Lannisport when a faint whistling could be heard slowly getting closer. In fact when he listened he could hear a few more noises.

He didn't know what that could be so he turned to his fellow knights and opened his mouth when a large scorpion bolt pierced the table they stood around, spitting it in two and sending splinters everywhere. The men jumped back in shock while covering their faces and suddenly they heard screams from outside the tent and in the camp. The other commanders turned as one and saw a number of large, arm thick sticks thudding into the ground. THUD! The men turned and saw another land near them. They shouted as they quickly scattered, heading back to their sectors of the camp to grab their armour and gear. THUD! Squelch! Stafford looked to his right as he ran and saw two soldiers pierced together, killing the pair in one go.

The men quickly moved around the camps and he heard more than he saw. Screams from both north and south along with some from the east meant it sounded like the ballista or scorpion bolts, he wasn't sure which, were being used to herd and pin down his remaining host. He dived into his tent and quickly put his armour chest plate on before also grabbing his helmet. He came out quickly before jumping back as another bolt thudded into the ground. "By the Seven! They're herding us! Scatter everyone! Head to Lannisport or Sarsfield! SCATTER!" he yelled, trying to put some order on the confused and scared men.

It was then he heard a buzzing sound. High pitched like a wasp or a fly but he could see neither. He looked around and saw nothing but chaos as he men ran about, some trying to retreat to either location he'd suggested. He looked up and into the clear blue sky. He thought he could make out a bird flying quite high up, perhaps at the height of the Rock. As he watched it banked sharply and turned as if to swoop over the camp. The last thing he knew was the screams of his men and the sudden burst of heat before the blackness took him.

Warrington

He looked down upon the Lannister siege camp below from the walls of Casterly Rock as the drone and scorpions rained death upon the enemy army. Numerous explosions detonated and many fireballs erupted throughout the camp as the drone buzzed overhead, emptying its payload upon the terrified men. When it had finished its deadly mission it turned and headed north towards the carrier USS George HW Bush. The scorpions continued firing however, shooting down upon any large clusters of men all while trying to corral the remaining soldiers into shooting zones.

It was a slaughter, there was no other way to describe it, it was almost equal to the one from the cavern which had turned many green in horror and given the bloody nature of it. He, General Marks and Admiral Cosmo watched from the battlements for over ten minutes as bolt after bolt was launched from the mounted defences of the castle. Then, when most of the firing crews had tired, he ordered them to cease fire and end operations. The enemy army was well and truly smashed. Or in this case, obliterated and made into pincushions. Maybe a thousand would survive after fleeing but they would be no true threat scattered around the Westerlands. House Britanican had held, and held comfortably at that. House Lannister had wasted over 9,000 men in their attempt to return the ancestral home of the Lannisters back to their control. A defeat which would be known for many years to come as the Slaughter at the Rock.