Chapter 1; Winds are rising;

Characters of the chapter:

Roland Quintley, soldier of the Inquisition.

Avery "Magpie", Brother of the Nights Watch.

Oleg Lefain, Sergeant of the Inquisition, commander of the Inquisition garrison of Eastwatch by the Sea.

Ser Bradley, Brother of the Nights Watch, Commander of Eastwatch by the Sea.

Joachim, Soldier in the Orlesian Imperial Navy.

Gerald, Soldier in the Orlesian Imperial Navy.

Cursive/Bold text in the chapter is Orlesian

It was a quiet night in Eastwatch, rebuilt after its destruction years ago. Even the Wall had been rebuilt to a degree, more out of a sense of tradition than anything, though the current structure was less than half the height it had been originally. Almost all days and nights were quiet on the Wall these days. Barring the occasional smuggler, lost merchant or an Orlesian patrol frigate deliberately overextending their patrol route, nothing such happened that would have required the attention of the Night's Watch. At this time most of the residents of the castle were asleep, with only a few guards keeping watch through the small hours, and not all of these were entirely attentive in their duties. The castle itself was designed in much the same manner as Castle Black, a square shaped set of walls arranged around a central courtyard within which lay the several structures that the inhabitants needed. The gate to the castle was on the eastern side, with a small dirt road leading to the docks. The docks themselves were a series of wooden platforms sticking out into the water, with many small, single sail ships laying in dock for the night. Other ships were out on patrol and not expected back until the next morning. The most notable feature was the tall watchtower in the south-eastern corner of the castle. The top of the tower was open, with a diagonal wooden roof held up by wooden beams to keep snow and rain away from the space underneath it. This space was equipped with a single scorpion, a lit brazier that offered warmth and served as a beacon to ships at sea, and a bell to give signals. Far above, on the Wall itself, there was another such watch post with the same setup of equipment. In this tower two men were on watch, chatting to pass the time. One was wearing black clothes as befitted a brother of the Nights Watch, while the other was dressed in the uniform of the Inquisition.

"So, I've been meaning to ask, where are you from actually, Roland? I mean, I know you're from Thedas and all, but where from there?" asked the man of the Night's Watch, a man named Avery.

"Me? I'm from Kirkwall as it happens. Do you know of it? It's in the Free Marches." replied the man in the Inquisition uniform.

"I may have heard something about it. What's it like?" said Avery.

"It was a home I suppose, though I don't regret leaving." Roland said, shrugging. "As a kid I had a pretty decent job cleaning the city streets with the rest of my family. We weren't wealthy, but we never had to go hungry either, not like some people. But I just finally got fed up with the job and signed on with the Inquisition a few years after the Breach war." he then explained.

"So… you just left because you were bored!?" Avery asked, shocked.

"Well, not exactly, but by the time I was old enough to join up, the big rumble with the Breach and the Elder One had already come and gone, so it was not like I had a big just and righteous cause to serve at that point. The Inquisition found me worthwhile work to do though." Roland said.

"Man, if I had had a steady job like that, I would have never given it up, not just because I was bored." Avery declared, shaking his head.

"You might rethink that statement if you had worked in Kirkwall." Roland commented dryly. Avery gave him a puzzled look and Roland continued his explanation: "I mean, for goodness's sake, every fucking morning for years the streets were so full of corpses the whole city looked like a Maker damned battlefield. Street thugs, mages, templars, abominations more than once, Qunari that one time, and random civilians on top of all of that! And every now and then we were called to clean out corpses from the Chantry or the Viscount's keep. The bloody Chantry, can you imagine it!"

"What? You must be joking." Avery said in disbelief.

"Not in the slightest. That city always had a lot of death in it, more so than any other place I have ever been in. Not really sure why, though the city always felt a little…wrong, like a bad wound. And if you've heard of Kirkwall, then you must know about Champion Hawke as well. Crazy fool managed to get tangled up in just about every mess in Kirkwall. So he decides that every random bad guy in Kirkwall needs to go, and he and his pack of friends go on an epic rampage for about seven years, wiping out every baddie they get their hands on. Of course in the end it doesn't work, and dead baddies get replaced by new ones, and guess whose job is was to clean up the tracks. Though come to think of it, I can't really tell which ones were done by him and his, I just heard the stories, same as everyone else, saw him fighting personally a few times." Roland explained in a tirade.

Avery simply stared at Roland, dumbstruck. "You Thedosians are mad, did you know that?"

Roland burst out laughing: "Yeah, we know alright. Not everyone is as crazy as Hawke though. He was special like that. Damn impressive fighter at any rate. Beggars the belief to be perfectly honest. I don't know how he managed any of the things they're saying he did. I suppose some of it MUST be just stories." he continued, still chuckling. "Well, Kirkwall could be pretty strange at times, but not every place in Thedas is like that. Most days it's as normal and ordinary as it is here. And there is a lot of beautiful and interesting stuff to see too." he added in a more serious tone.

"Yeah, I've heard a lot of amazing stuff, unbelievable stuff from the others. Would like to go see it." Avery said wistfully.

"You should visit if you get the chance, as one who has seen it I can tell you it's worth the effort." said Roland.

"There's not much of a chance of that. Men of the Night's Watch aren't really allowed to travel, and they behead you if you leave without permission. And it's not like I would have the coin to pay for that anyway, not with the life I've had." Avery said, regret in his voice. Then he paused, considering something: "Though…hmm…do you think they'd let me join the Inquisition?"

"I see no harm in asking. And I can tell you it worked out for me in the end. Meaningful, important work, free room and board, a little coin for the work you do and you get to talk to all sorts of people, see all kinds of things. Take this place for instance." Roland turned his gaze to the giant construct of ice. "Damn, must've been something pretty scary to put up a wall like that."

It was Avery's turn to chuckle: "Scary doesn't even begin to describe it, let me tell you a few things about it…" Then Avery suddenly stopped, squinting at something he thought he had seen out on the water, eyes scanning the expanse of blackness. "Did you see that?" he asked of Roland.

"See what? Is something out there?" Roland asked, his light manner gone, replaced by stern alertness.

"Not sure, I think I saw a shape, something big a few hundred meters from the docks dead ahead." Avery said, pointing the direction with his hand. "And listen…" They both went quiet and they could hear small sounds carried over the water: creaking of wood, the flapping sound of a large section of fabric lazily fluttering in the wind.

"A ship?" Roland asked.

"Can't tell, damn I wish it wasn't new moon." Avery said with frustration in his voice.

After a moment of grinding his teeth together in consideration, Roland made a decision: "Alright, let's ring the bell for possible ships in the water and set up a flare."

Nodding, Avery went to work on the Scorpion while Roland rang the bell in the watchtower twice: Ding-Ding, Ding-Ding!

As Avery prepared the scorpion to fire, he noticed how Roland pulled a bronze colored cylinder from one of the pouches of his uniform, extended it to its full length with a yank and raised it to the height of his right eye, peering through it. "What in the Seven Hells is that thing?" Avery asked.

"It's a spyglass, lets you view faraway objects with more precision. Qunari make them." Answered Roland without turning his gaze from the scene of water he was observing.

"How come this is the first time I'm seeing that?" Avery queried.

"Because these things are fucking expensive, and you, true to your nickname, try to steal anything shiny you come across." Roland commented dryly. "What?" he said, raising an eyebrow after noting the offended expression of Avery "Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't nick this."

Avery opened his mouth to retort, then thought better of it. "Good point" he said finally. "So…can you see anything?"

"Nothing yet" Roland grimaced. "Going to definitely need that flare, how's it coming?"

"All set!" Avery declared with a curt nod, lighting a scorpion bolt with a tip of tightly bundled cloth, oil and tar with a torch.

"Alright, launch!" Commanded Roland, and the bolt left the machine, arching through the air, lighting up the darkness as it went. In the orange gloom the silhouette of a ship could be clearly seen. Moments later another flare flew through the air, coming from top of the Wall, bringing light to the darkness a second time.

"Looks like the Wall guys had the same idea as we did." Avery commented after seeing the second flare.

"That's a ship alright, and a huge bitch at that. Might be others too, but not sure." Roland said, still looking through his spyglass.

"How can there be even one ship, let alone many? Our ships were not supposed to be back yet, were they?" Avery wondered, puzzled.

"There's no way that's one of ours, it's too big." Roland said, shaking his head. "Too big to be smugglers or Orlesian patrollers either. Urgh, probably just some bunch of traders being moronic, forgetting to set up the lights for the night." "Look, they seem to be putting them up right now" he pointed with a smile "let's get ready to signal them, get this mess sorted out." Then his smile froze, his eyes widening with shocked surprise: "Hold on, those aren't ship lights, they…GET DOWN!

Just as he shouted his warning, a swinging motion of machines on the ship sent a pair of flaming shots arching through the air, straight at them.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT!?" Avery shouted as the both of them threw themselves to the floor just as the shots turned on their final death dive. One shot slammed to the body of the tower, causing the entire structure to shake, while the other flew over fortress, impacting the far wall on the western side of the fortress, the part where they kept their horses. Even as the first shots struck home, new lights lit up in the distance, and soon new projectiles of death were launched to the skies.

As soon as the first shots struck home, men and women in the barracks were startled awake from their slumber. An Inquisition sergeant practically sleeping in his armor was the first to respond, launching himself upright in an instant, his instincts taking over. "Out, Out, everybody out, arm yourselves, let's move, move it you lazy inbreeds!" he bellowed, drawing his sword. Everyone in the barracks scrambled to grab weapons and make their way to the exit, many of them still in their night clothes, while others hastily grabbed what articles of clothing they could before running to the doors. Just as people began to stream outside, a shot landed to the centre of the yard, raising a small mushroom cloud of flame into the air, the shockwave knocking everyone to the ground. Many were set ablaze, screaming, writhing and trashing as the flames consumed their frames. Those who survived got back up and started to respond to the ongoing attack as best they could. Another flaming projectile overshot its mark, striking a glancing blow against the wall, sending a shower of ice splinters and flaming debris to rain down on the courtyard below.

The commander of Eastwatch, ser Bradley, emerged from his rooms, still pulling on his clothes and buckling on his sword belt. He ran across the yard and hurried up the watchtower, bounding up the steps three at a time. As soon as they came within earshot he shouted to the two men in the watchtower: "Avery! Quintley! What in the seven hells is going on in my fort!? Who's attacking us!?"

"No idea ser!" Roland shouted, forced to yell over the noise of shouting men and shots roaring past. "There are at least five ships in the water pounding us, no idea who sent them as of yet! We can barely see anything and this – a flaming projectile passing nearby made him crouch briefly – shitstorm isn't doing us any favors!" Suddenly Roland's eyes blew wide as he saw another ball of flame flying straight towards his face. The others saw it as well and all of them embraced the floor boards again. All three men grunted as the roof was torn away to the sound of cracking wood and the whooshing sound of flames passing overhead. "You rutting whorespawn!" Avery shouted at the enemy ships after the shot passed and they got up again.

Just then another man of the Nights Watch ran up to the top level of the watchtower, shouting: "Commander, enemy troops have arrived by boat, they're attacking the dock guards! We need reinforcements; they're setting fire to our ships!"

Nodding briskly, ser Bradley turned to speak to the two tower guards: "I need to get back to it! You two stay here and report any developments!"

"And find out who the hell we're fighting!" he added as he descended the steps.

Once back at the ground level, the Commander spotted an Inquisition sergeant directing the people in the yard, roaring like an enraged dragon: "You six, save the horses! The rest of you, put out those Maker damned flames! And by Andraste's holy knickers, watch out for incoming rounds! Move it!" The Commander ran to him shouting an order: "Lefain! The docks are under attack, take a unit out there and reinforce our positions! Drive these bastards back, whatever the cost!"

Lefain nodded, turning to a group of his soldiers, drawing his sword. "First platoon, with me!" he shouted, and the group turned to run to the gate and the path that led to the docks. Meanwhile, Roland was still looking at the enemy ships, trying to find something, anything, to find out the identity of these attackers. It was then that e saw it, the flag of the enemy near the rear of one of the ships, briefly showing in the light of yet another round being prepared for firing. The flag was of bold blue color, like the sky on a cloudless day. On the flag there was a golden mask, rays of golden light expanding from it like the sun. The flag was all too familiar to him; he had seen it many times, in this post more than anywhere else.

"Orlesians?" he gasped hoarsely, his voice stolen from his throat, hoping that his eyes were deceiving him.

On the docks an Orlesian navy soldier named Gerald rammed his sword through the torso of a man dressed in black from head to toes. He kicked him off his sword, and his body tumbled over the wharf and slid into the water. With no immediate enemy looking to take the dead ones place, he took a moment to look around himself to see how things were going. All around him Orlesian soldiers were fighting more of these men in black clothes. The enemy was putting up a reasonably good fight, but they had been caught by surprise, and at this time they were outnumbered. The Orlesians were working in two groups of roughly equal size, the first group engaging the dock guards, keeping them off the back of the second group, which was working systematically through the enemy vessels, setting them ablaze with bales of hay, oil, tar and fire grenades. Despite the resistance they were facing Gerald's people were making good progress, and one by one the enemy vessels were being set aflame.

Gerald's musings were interrupted when he heard sounds of shouting. He turned and saw a fresh group of enemy soldiers charging into battle, swarming from the fortress. Gerald picked the closest of these enemies and attacked. He and his enemy exchanged several blows, steel clanging against steel. Then Gerald sidestepped, dodging the attack of his enemy, using the resulting opening to slice his opponent's belly open. His guts spilling out, his opponent collapsed on Gerald's feet. Now that he was dead Gerald could take a closer look at his opponent. What he saw made him curse: The dead man was wearing the unmistakable armor of an Inquisition soldier.

"Watch my back." he told one of his soldiers, then made his way to the other group of Orlesian soldiers, pushing his way past the press of soldiers.

When he reached the Orlesians setting fire to the enemy ships in the docks, he began waving and shouting at one of them: "Joachim! Oi! Joachim!"

"What!? I'm a little busy at the moment!" Shouted the soldier Gerald had been calling.

"Get this job wrapped up quick! There's Inquisition soldiers here, there's going to be an incident!" Gerald shouted at him.

"Should we abort?" Joachim asked in return.

"No, the mission comes first!" Gerald said. "Just get it done as fast as you can."

Gerald then turned back to address his soldiers, causing those who were not immediately fighting someone to turn to him: "Alright, kill the blackcoats as you will, but keep the Inquisition types alive if you can. Just then an Inquisition soldier managed to press her way through the fighting to attack him. Gerald blocked her attack and smashed the crossguard of his sword hard across her face, knocking her out cold.

"Yes, just like that. Thank you for the emphasis." Gerald commented to her still form, then went to seek his next enemy.

And so the fight raged on, Orlesians killing Inquisition troops and blackcoats, blackcoats and Inquisition troops killing Orlesians. Disciplined as always, Gerald's troops were doing their best not to kill the Inquisition forces, although in the heat of battle this often could not be helped. With the enemy reinforcements now committed to the fight and his own soldiers forced to hold back for fear of killing Inquisition soldiers, Gerald saw that his people were starting to lose ground, one by one falling at the hands of their enemies despite their best efforts and the kills they inflicted in return.

"Come on Joachim, hurry it along, we're dying out here." Gerald grumbled as he kept fighting on. Finally Joachim gave a shout and a wave that the last of the enemy ships had been set ablaze. Gerald nodded, shouting to his soldiers: We're done! Fall back, fall back! Back to the boats!

One of the blackcoats tried to take advantage of his momentary distraction only to have his knees sliced open by Gerald's sword. Declining to finish off his enemy, he turned on his heels and ran with his soldiers back to where their boats were, hastily slashing at any foe that came too close. He stopped only to help his soldiers still stuck fighting enemy soldiers as he passed, working with them to clear a way through the enemies blocking their retreat. As they reached the boats he stopped urging his soldiers to board the boats as quickly as possible. As soon as the last of them stepped onto the boat, Gerald quickly glanced around himself to make sure that all of his soldiers were either on the boats or dead before jumping on himself, waving for the soldiers on the rows to begin rowing. As they gained distance from the docks arrows began to fly around them, causing splashes as they impacted the water around them, impacting the planks of their boats, causing them to crouch as low as possible to avoid being hit. Some of the enemy arrows still managed to hit home, the bodies of his soldiers crumbling into heaps at the bottom of the boats they were in, or slipping over the edges and into the water. One of his soldiers, a woman by the name of Jocelyn boldly stood up, planting her foot on the rim of the boat to steady herself, and fired back with a bow of her own. One of the Inquisition soldiers on the docks fell backwards, landing in the water with a loud splash, his chest punctured by a blue feathered arrow. Archers on the other boats also opened fire and for several scary moments the air was full of whispering death sent by both sides. Eventually their boats made it out of arrow range, and the exchange of fire came to a halt. As the shooting stopped, there was a collective sigh of relief in Gerald's boat. One of his soldiers sounded off with a horn and upon hearing the signal, their fleet stopped bombarding, flaming projectiles no longer arcing through the air.

When he became convinced that the battle was done, Gerald glanced around himself, taking stock of their current situation. "We did it. Nasty mission though. Any guess how many we lost?"Gerald asked Joachim, who was sitting right next to him.

"No idea as of yet, won't know until we get back to the ship and make a full headcount. Inquisition types made things a bit more complicated than I would have liked."he replied.

"Yeah, the captain thought they wouldn't interfere when they figured out who we were. Suppose the Inquisition takes its local commitments a bit more seriously than we hoped." Gerald said. "Do you think there will be complication because of this? I mean… we did kill some Inquisition soldiers, right? The Lord Inquisitor won't like that one bit."he asked next.

"There might be some consequences, but nothing too serious I would think. Official protest maybe, or temporary sanctions."Joachim agreed."We don't plan on getting in the Inquisition's way unless they get in ours. Plus we and the Inquisition are old time war buddies. The bosses at Skyhold won't want to sacrifice such good relations unless they think they have no choice, and the Emperor is likely not going to give them a sufficient excuse. Doesn't matter to us none in any event, we were just following orders."

"Hope you're right Joachim. Sure wouldn't want to fight Inquisition forces full time. Very good fighters, the lot of them. Still, we got the job done, and we inflicted at least as many casualties as we s…" Gerald said before something moving at great speed flashed past him, interrupting him. That something, a bolt from a scorpion, impaled Joachim in the chest, throwing him violently off the boat to land in the water with a splash. For a moment Gerald simply stared, processing what he had seen. "Son of a… keep your heads down, all of you!" he shouted to the rest of his people when he recovered.

"Nice shot, Magpie!" Roland congratulated back in the tower.

"Yeah… thanks." Avery replied hoarsely, too spooked by recent events to take in the compliment. "Um, could we get off the tower now? This whole place feels far too wobbly for my tastes." He added, concerned. And indeed, ever since the body of their tower had been shot at the beginning of the battle the structure had been rather unstable, swaying softly on the night winds, the wooden frame creaking in a very alarming manner. The pair exited the tower quickly, and no sooner had they done so that the tower fell over with a resounding crash, falling outside the walls, people in the courtyard shouting in surprised alarm as it went.

With the battle now concluded the brothers of the Night's Watch and the soldiers of the Inquisition set about dealing with the aftermath. The remaining fires were put out (sadly far too late for their ships, which were reduced to charred frames.) and the wounded were tended to. Additional guards were posted to watch for the return of the enemy, unlikely though it was, as most agreed. Sometime later that night Avery, Roland, Ser Bradley, LeFain, the Sergeant that had led the Inquisition counterattack in the docks, and a number of others were gathered around some enemy corpses gathered from the battlefield.

"Yeah, these are Orlesian alright." LeFain commented, observing the corpse intently. "From the look of these white padded coats I'd say these are navy troopers. Army troops would have blue coats with red trimming.

"Orlesians…" Bradley repeated gravely. "What in the hells did they attack us for?"

"A-any chance this was a misunderstanding?" Roland asked uncertainly. "I mean, we did shoot some flares before they started shooting, maybe they interpreted that as an attack."

"No way that's the case, that's just stupid." LeFain retorted. "It would be the most epic overreaction in the history of the world. One or two shots maybe, but that storm? And nothing excuses assaulting our docks and incinerating our ships. No, this was deliberate, and I doubt it was the last we have heard of it either."

"What do you mean?" Bradley asked.

"I mean, when they attacked us they went straight for our ships, and once those were burning they suddenly lost interest and fucked off." Lefain explained. "I'd say the ships were the main target of the attack, the bombardment being just for support, to give us something else to think about. They wanted our fleet out of the way for something. I reckon there's a bigger fleet on the way and these were sent ahead to make sure we can't interfere when they get here."

"The Seven hells for?" Avery queried. "The Night's watch isn't supposed to take part in fights like this."

"Yeah, that's the truth of it, and the Inquisition would be hard pressed to attack Orlesians without provocation." Lefain agreed. "But they don't know that. If they know it, I don't think they believe it."

"We need to report this attack at once." Bradley stated firmly. "Avery, find Maester Todd and tell him to send a raven to Castle Black that we were attacked by orlesian warships, that we've sustained heavy damage to the castle as well as … call them moderate casualties, I'll send a more accurate count when I know what it is. Our ships are destroyed except the ones currently on patrol, which are currently unaccounted for. Tell the Maester to send word for the King and Queen also, they need to know this happened."

Avery nodded and left to carry out his orders, and then a thought occurred to Bradley: "Lefain, you're Orlesian right?"

"That's right, ser, why?" Lefain answered with a puzzled look.

"That should be obvious." Bradley stated firmly. "Eastwatch has just been attacked by people from your home nation." Bradley said. "Look, there's no delicate way to ask this, so I'm just going to ask it. Can you be trusted?"

"Absolutely, ser." Lefain said at once, confidently. "I work for the Inquisition and the Herald, no one else. Whatever the Emperor and his goons are up to here, I have no wheat on that field. Sorry, country saying, means I'm not involved."

"I can vouch for him, commander ser." One of the black brothers joined the conversation. "I was one of the dock guards during the attack. The enemy had us; we'd have gotten our asses kicked if not for the attack he led. I saw him fighting; he did as much as anyone else out there, he didn't hold back. He's on our side; I'd stake my life on it. Did, come to think of it." A number of other brothers nodded their agreement.

Bradley gave an approving hum. "Very well then, it seems you enjoy the confidence of my men. I suppose I can do no less. I trust you."

"Thank you for that ser." Lefain said, relieved. "As it is, I think we should consider the possibility that some of my other countrymen have different sympathies. I don't think the Wall is the main target of the Empire, but it doesn't hurt to be careful."

Bradley considered. "Agreed. Consult with Maester Todd; go through the lists of the Inquisition soldiers here and at the other castles. Find out who are from Orlais and which among them we need to ship home in light of today's events.

Lefain nodded and Bradley turned to address the other people gathered around: "If the sergeant is right, and this is the just the first sign of something bigger, it's not likely to be very far away. A few days at most I'd wager. We'll take another look in the morning and see what the situation looks like then. In the meantime I want this fort made as secure as possible. Our ships are gone, so we'll abandon the docks for the time being and focus on defending the fort proper. Build a perimeter of barricades on both sides of the main gate leading to the docks, that'll add to our defenses, and repair the damage to the fortress as well as you're able. The fallen watchtower should give us plenty materials for both projects. If that's not enough, go to the far side of the Wall and cut down a few trees for more materials. You can cannibalize materials from the docks as well if you need to, as long as they remain reasonably intact. Anyone who isn't working will be on watch, officers included. This night none of us will be sleeping."

"Also, collect weapons and armor from the enemy fallen, as well as anything else we can use. We will need it all. As for the rest… we'll handle our fallen, and the Thedosians will handle theirs, including the enemy attackers. Give them all a decent burial according to the tradition you know." He added, followed by grim nods from those in attendance.

"Any questions?" He asked then, receiving no reply. "No? Alright then, let's get to it!" he said, clapping his hands together.

And so they went to work. They rebuilt the walls and repaired the damage to the various buildings as much as they could in the time available. Out of rubble they built a semi-circle outside the gate leading to the docks, both ends touching the stone wall of the fort. Another similar one was built inside the walls, enclosing the area around the gate inside a circle of wood and stone rubble. Just as Bradley had guessed it would be, as morning dawned, they got a much clearer picture of the situation.

They did not like what they saw.

Out on the water, before the docks, lay the five ships that had attacked them. Each of them was a huge, with many sails and several hundred oars. The uppermost quarter of the ships were painted with a bold blue color, while the railing of the upper deck was painted in red. No rams could be seen on the ships, the vessels apparently relying on ranged attacks to win their battles. The ships carried catapults on fore and aft castles responsible for last night's bombardment. The sigil of the Orlesian Empire was displayed of flags and sails that were currently being unfurled as the ships were preparing to leave, all of them fluttering and snapping in the breeze. Worse, though, was what lay beyond these five ships.

For beyond them, the sea was full of ships:

Small, single sail patrollers all too familiar to the night's watch from their frequent excursions from the Corridor. Medium weight ships with three decks of oars, strong rams and ballistae at the front. Huge fat-bellied transports. Blocky ships designed for assaulting a beachhead, their prows fitted with ramps which could be lowered upon landfall and more of large ships such as those near the docks. The inhabitants of Eastwatch by the sea were gathered on the walls of the fort to gawk at this display of naval power.

"Maker's balls, there must be hundreds of them!" Roland gasped.

"It's a full blown invasion force is what it is." Avery said.

"Lefain" Bradley addressed the Inquisition sergeant "Tell the Maester… we need to send more ravens. We have to warn the kingdoms."

"Yeah." Lefain said hoarsely. "We must."