Land of the King,

Chapter 10: The Battle of the Glowing Sea

All warfare is based on deception

Tarondor

Skinchangers were an amazing group of individuals. They were blessed by the Maiar with a wonderful gift. Some may discriminate or persecute them for it, but not the people of Arnor. In Arnor, skinchangers were granted high honours and positions. Their talents were recognized.

His predecessors had realized the incredible advantages skinchangers could bring to Arnor and had decreed protection for them. By law, skinchangers and a rarer subset, greenseers, were protected in Arnor and the kingdom offered asylum to any skinchangers fleeing protection from other lands.

In exchange for this protection, skinchangers would use their gifts for the benefit of all Arnor. His grandfather, Arantar, had established academies dedicated to training skinchangers and greenseers so as to maximize their gifts and almost all students from these academies would go on to have extremely important roles in the military.

It was rare in Arnor, for skinchangers to use animals for direct warfare on the battlefield. In the minds of the Arnorians, their own steel was more than enough to defeat any foe and when necessary, the giants could be summoned for the more… difficult roles. Consequently, the primary animals of choice for Arnorian skinchangers to bond with were not wolves, shadowcats, mammoths, or other large and ferocious beasts. No, their choice was birds.

Not just any birds however. They favoured larger birds of prey, eagles and falcons, as well as more, humble birds such as ravens and seagulls. These birds were well suited to long distance travels, could carry messages and could blend in with their surroundings. Skinchangers were prized not for the advantages they brought in battle but rather for their ability to streamline communications and logistics and carry out fast surveillance and reconnaissance. In other words, skinchangers were highly efficient couriers and scouts.

It was the skinchangers that had allowed Tarondor to sail his fleet without any worries of attack from the enemy. They could use their birds to scout miles ahead and report everything directly to their superiors very quickly. Written communication was possible between different parts of the fleet, improving their coordination both in and out of battle.

The skinchangers had been responsible for alerting Tarondor of the enemy fleet moving towards their armada. His most trusted advisers, generals, and admirals had been summoned to the Arvelegir.

"The enemy fleet is here currently," said his brother Amroth, pointing towards a spot on the map off the coast of Fornost. "They have learned of our intentions and are likely moving to engage us."

"Fornost must be warned. Alongside all the other coastal provinces," said Admiral Turin.

"The warnings have already been dispatched. All the coasts of the kingdom are on high alert. If the Greyborn try and attack, they willbe repelled," General Calimir answered.

"The question now is, where and how do we engage the enemy fleet? The convoy must be protected. I do not advise involving it in battle. It would risk the entire invasion!" Lord Farman spoke, gaining nods and murmurs of agreement.

Tarondor said, "How would you suggest we engage the enemy then, Lord Farman? Without the convoy, our fleet numbers only 200. Those odds are too even for my liking."

"Head on, Your Majesty. We have naval superiority. I believe we can easily rout the Greyborn and turn their ships back to the Isles. I would recommend splitting the battle fleet in two. We should leave a hundred warships to escort the convoy and take the remaining 100 to face the Grey Fleet."

"Lord Farman's plan is sound Sire, it will allow us to protect the convoy and our skinchangers scouts will enable us to track down the Grey Fleet with ease," Admiral Turin said, supporting the plan.

"Then it is settled then. All in favour of Lord Farman's plan?" Tarondor called out.

However, as majority of those assembled put up their hands, Tarondor's eyes were drawn to Anardil. After he had demonstrated the power of the flamethrowers, Tarondor had recruited him as his consultant. He had not spoken in the entire meeting.

Finally, after a brief, hesitant, pause, Anardil spoke up. "If I may suggest an alternative Sire?"

All in the room turned their faces to him, as if realising he existed and wondering why he was speaking.

Unflinching from their gaze, Anardil continued when Tarondor nodded his permission, "Lord Farman raises many valid points Sire, yet he neglects to mention the unlikeliness of the Greyborn engaging us in an open battle. They know they cannot win a direct confrontation against us so they will scurry around at night like rats, raiding our convoys with hit and run tactics. They will never gather their entire fleet neatly in one place for us to hunt down and destroy. Furthermore, we have a powerful new weapon, yet it has barely factored into our plans at all. To that end Sire, I would propose another plan, similar in some ways, but different in that it would enable us to not just rout the Grey Fleet, but destroy it entirely."

Tarondor raised his eyebrow, "Bold claims Anardil. Do continue, I am very interested to hear what you have in mind."

And so Anardil revealed his plan. As he ran through the details, Tarondor felt his smirk growing. By the end, he could hold it in no longer and had begun cackling evilly.

"We will go ahead with Anardil's plan. Our armada will meet the enemy here and we will send them to their Drowned God." Tarondor said, as he placed his finger on the location marked on the map.


Prince Toren Greyiron

A long time ago, the Islands had been unified under the Grey King. A mighty and legendary warrior. By right, upon his death, the throne should have gone to his eldest son. However, his brothers refused to acknowledge him. In the war that ensued, eighty-four of the Grey King's sons would die, and his halls would be destroyed by the Storm God.

House Grey had claimed descent from this eldest son, who had along with fifteen brothers, divided the islands after the war. For a long time, they had tried in vain to claim their rightful place as Kings of the Grey Islands. Their attempts had failed however and eventually the infighting in the islands was ended by the institution of the kingsmoot, where the lords and captains would elect a high king.

Their power and lineage enabled House Grey to be among the top candidates for every kingsmoot and for a while they were satisfied with this. It was easier to be elected king then to conquer the Isles outright after all.

Yet as the years passed, House Grey still retained their ambitions to one day, rule the Islands in their own right and not by the votes of other houses. And as others not from their house were chose as king again and again, their resentment of the kingsmoot system grew.

Hundreds of years after the kingsmoot was implemented, Urragon Grey, High King of the Grey Islands died. At the kingsmoot following his death, Urrathon IV Goodbrother was chosen as king over all the old king's kin. Such an event was normal under the kingsmoot and the former royals would have had no choice but to accept the new king by all the laws and customs of the Greyborn.

However, what happened next was an absolutely horrid atrocity. To secure his rule, Urrathon ordered all of Urragon's sons and brothers on the Isles put to death and seized the holdings of House Grey. This cruel and vile act unsettled many on the Isles, causing them to question their choice of king.

Two years later however, the last of Urragon's sons returned. Torgon Grey had been away raiding in Arnor. Upon his return he declared the kingsmoot invalid due to him being absent and unable to present his candidacy. Many Houses would rally to him, tiring of High King Urrathon's cruelty. Torgon successfully claimed vengeance for his kin as well as the rule of the Grey Islands. His war against Urrathon was aided in no small part by the large numbers of iron weapons he had capture from raiding Arnor.

The forging and smithing of iron had been unknown to the Greyborn but they did possess iron weapons, seized from Arnor. These weapons were prized heirlooms in the Islands for their superior strength compared to bronze, and possessing one was a mark of prestige for it showed the raider had successfully reaved from Arnor, a notoriously difficult kingdom to raid from.

However, Torgon had not only looted iron weapons from Arnor, he had successfully captured and taken an ironsmith as his thrall. With his thrall's knowledge, the secrets of iron were revealed to the Greyborn, allowing them to make use of the massive deposits of iron on the islands.

With the aid of iron, House Grey became the preeminent house on the islands following Torgon's rule and eventually became the hereditary Kings of the Grey Islands. In commemoration of the importance of the metal in their ascension, Torgon's son, Urragon IV, renamed his house 'House Greyiron.'

Iron would become increasingly important not just to House Greyiorn but to the Greyborn as a whole in the following years and they used it extensively to carve out an empire. The act of seizing goods in raids became known as 'paying the iron price' and eventually they shifted from raiding to directly conquering many new lands.

Arnor would eventually be the only western region of Westeros which was not under the influence or sway of the Grey Islands. Everywhere else on the coast of the Sunset Sea, it was said that wherever the salt of the sea could be smelt or the crashing of its waves heard, there the Greyborn held power.

It was a point of resentment amongst many Greyborn that Arnor alone would not submit to their rule. Raids on Arnor intensified but they were repelled. The steelbows of the Arnorians were a feared weapon and the Arnorians were quick in building an effective network of lighthouses, beacons and fortresses to defend against raids.

The Greyborn suffered heavy casualties attempting to raid the lands or Arnor and eventually gave up trying to force them to submit. In place of land raids and attacks, they shifted to attacking the merchants and ships of the Arnorians and it was here they possessed the advantage, for a time.

In the past few decades, Arnor had militarized like never before. All merchant ships were now heavily armed to stave off raids and massive, indomitable, warships had begun patrolling the seas around Arnor.

Countless ships were lost and many Greyborn sent to the Drowned God's halls far, far too young. The Greyborn began avoiding Arnorian ships, incapable of challenging them. The situation became so bad that for a time, many in the islands feared the possibility of the Arnorians invading the Islands themselves. This fear would persist until Toren's amazing victories restored their hope.

Toren Greyiron had been born seven years before the ascension of King Tarondor. That legacy, the introduction of iron and the building of their empire was his heritage as Crown Prince of the Kingdom of the Grey Islands and heir of House Greyiron. In his thirty years of life, he had upheld the pride of his house and proven himself to be as capable and worthy to rule as any of his illustrious ancestors.

Toren proved his worth by becoming a truly legendary captain. Using ingenious new tactics, he led many successful raids on Arnorians ships and even a few daring raids on Arnor itself. Acquiring incredible amounts of plunder, he won the love of his men by sharing most of the loot with them instead of hoarding it for himself.

Beloved by many and respected by all, Toren had been hailed as a genius and was seen as the example every Greyborn men should aspire to be. All looked to him to lead them against Arnor.

His revolutionary strategies relied on controversial hit and run tactics. Toren believed that iron had made the Greyborn too cocky in their battles. The advantage iron had given them had allowed them to defeat many enemies on the mainland due to their superior armament. This overwhelming advantage had lead the Greyborn to begin fighting direct head on battles with their foes.

Toren however had realised that such tactics could not be employed against Arnor, a kingdom with superior armament and now ships to the Grey Islands. To that end, Toren championed a return to the pre-iron battle tactics of their ancestors, wherein they would hit their enemies with a quick and punishing raid and leave as swiftly as they came. He understood that the Greyborn could not fight open protracted battles with the Arnorians.

Many called his way of fighting cowardice and not befitting a Greyborn. Others however, were won over by the high success rate and the decreased risks.

To further increase his success, Toren utilised lanterns and developed a complicated signal system for night attacks. He was also the man behind the wolfpack tactic, in which three or more Greyborn longships would surround and attack a single Arnorian merchant vessel.

By attacking at night, they would limit the accuracy of the Arnorian steelbows and scorpions, allowing them to get close enough to board. Attacking with numerous ships gave them the advantage in numbers, ensuring they could overpower the ship's crew once they got on board. This was especially important due to the superior equipment of the Arnorians.

Unfortunately, additional ships meant more men to split the loot amongst. Thankfully most problems related to the division of plunder were resolved by the sheer amount of valuables that many Arnorian ships carried in their cargo holds. Often, the ship itself was a prize as Arnorian designs were superior to the Greyborn's. Indeed, much of their fleet was made up of captured Arnorian vessels.

With his sterling reputation, it was no surprise then, that Toren had been chosen as the leader of the Grey Islands' defense. Their worst fears had come true. Arnor's militarisation had been for the purpose of invading the Grey Islands. Lead by their king, Tarondor, a capable seaman, they could very possibly threaten the freedom of his people.

With all that was at stake, Toren had been given command of the Grey Fleet, 100 of the largest and most powerful ships in the Islands, all of them belonging to the Seastone Chair. By his royal father's command, he had an additional 100 longships as well, requisitioned from the various lords.

Toren knew his fleet could not directly confront the enemy. To that end he had divided his forces into 8 attack groups, all of whom would act independently and would raid the Arnorian convoys.

Hit and run tactics were devastatingly effective against large targets and the largest target in the sea at the moment was the Arnorians' 400 strong fleet. Slowly but surely, he would whittle down the enemy fleet until their numbers were low enough for him to strike decisively.

It wasn't ideal, the Arnorian Fleet would outnumber them by far and parts of the fleet could swoop around to encircle and destroy their attack group. Their attacks had to be quick and punishing. Getting into an open battle too soon could be disastrous as well. A single raid could be the difference between defeat or victory. Yet what choice did he have? This was the only way. If he could bleed them enough, he could even the odds enough for them to stand a chance.

Yes, he could do it. With this victory, he would finally prove to his people that Arnor could indeed be defeated, even in open battle, and his name would be forever remembered. Toren Greyiron would be the hero that saved the Grey Islands. That would be his legacy.


Amroth

For the past few weeks, the Greyborn had been trying in vain to raid the fleet. They had been repelled each time of course, but the men's morale was being affected by the constant raids; they couldn't sleep. And each attack, they would take losses and occasionally, a few ships as well.

And yet the day had finally come, just as Anardil had predicted. No more raids. The Grey Fleet had formed up en masse to engage them. The sun was setting to the west, dipping slightly below the horizon, its light illuminated the ocean, dividing the sea between both opposing fleets.

The scouts had informed them early on of the enemy fleet's advance. Tarondor had given the order for the plan to commence.

Amroth beheld the fleet before him. They had a tight, crescent formation and were makiing for the Arnorian fleet. Amroth pitied them slightly. They had no idea that their movements had been noticed days before, that a division of Arnorian ships was to the north, cutting off their escape. They did not know they were sailing to their doom.

"Tarondor raised his eyebrow, "Bold claims Anardil. Do continue, I am very interested to hear what you have in mind."

"Thank you Sire. The Greyborn will not face us in an open battle, not yet at least. We must let them come to us. it is the only way to lure them into an open battle. I believe that they will begin raiding our convoy every night soon. No matter what happens, we cannot use the wildfire. They must remain ignorant. If they find out, we lose the element of surprise and the plan fails.

Moving on, our scouts could keep watch on the enemy's movements and report back to us, ensuring we take minimum losses from these raids. To that end I believe we should avoid sending detachments to attack them. They will have the advantage in those engagements and we will lose most of them. Our primary objective should be defence, for now.

The closer we get to the Islands, the more desperate the Greyborn will become. Eventually they will have no choice but to face us in an open battle and it is there we spring the trap.

We use our scouts to watch their movements, when we see them preparing to meet us, we split a detachment off to move behind them and cut off their escape.

Then as the fleet arrives we send a single lone ship into their formation, unmanned and filled to the brim with wildfire. Once we ignite the wildfire, I imagine a great portion of their fleet would be gone, the remainder would likely attempt to flee, right into the jaws of our detachment. The wildfire flamethrowers would be especially useful in destroying stragglers.

With a single battle, we will have destroyed the Greyborn's power at sea and the way to the Islands will be wide open."

For a while no one said anything. Until suddenly Tarondor started cackling.

"We will go ahead with Anardil's plan. Our armada will meet the enemy here and we will send them to their Drowned God." Tarondor said, as he placed his finger on the location marked on the map. The location Anardil believed the Grey Fleet would engage them. It was just a short distance south of the Grey Islands themselves.

Amroth watched carefully, his face betraying no emotion as the fire ship approached the enemy fleet. The waves had moved it forward. One of the Greyborn ships moved to board and investigate but the rest continued moving forward. They had the advantage now, sailing downwind. In an ordinary battle, their greater speed would increase their ramming power. But this was no ordinary battle.

Turning to the flagship, he observed with baited anticipation as his brother took the steelbow, lit the tip on fire and drew it. Carefully noting the wind conditions, he waited… and waited. Until finally, for a brief moment, the wind shifted slightly and he loosed the arrow.

The entire fleet watched the arrow sail through the air, as it climbed high into the sky, remaining in the air for a few short seconds before it turned downwards crashing upon its mark like a hammer stroke.

In an instant, a deafening roar sounded in Amroth's eardrums. He was temporarily blinded by a green flash. Averting his eyes, he could see the wildfire spreading, like the breath of a dragon, destroying all in its path.

Within moments, a fleet 200 strong had been reduced to a mere fraction of its former glory. Even from this distance, Amroth could feel the heat of the inferno as it annihilated the wooden longships of the Greyborn. He had to struggle to keep his face deadpan when he heard the screams. He would not sympathize with the Greyborn, but some deep, dark corner of his heart prayed for their souls. No one deserved to die like that.

The fires were a vivid, garish green, a colour he knew he would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Even as the Greyborn ships sank below the waves, the wildfires continued burning with such immense heat that steam rose from the sea as it boiled. A hundred ships, a hundred emerald fires, blazing just below the surface of the water, illuminating it with an eerie viridescent light. Amroth could barely believe his eyes. The sea was glowing.


Author's Note: …Yeah. That happened. Well I guess you all now know why it was called the Battle of the Glowing Sea eh? I'm quite curious; who was able to guess why it was called that before the chapter?