Chapter Seventy-Eight.
The Battle of Fiery Stone and Water
…..
Isle of the Fair, Random Island Opposite Dragonstone
Ever since he has been named as Castellan of Dol Amroth, Jon rather likes some of the perks that come with it. Good food, good service from his servants, the richness of the port city, and most importantly, the opportunity to oversleep if he wants to. With his bastard status before, Jon never gets to oversleep even during his younger days. He might have been protected by the will of his father to be raised as a son from his trueborn wife, but that doesn't mean she takes every opportunity to make his life miserable. She tends to send a guard or a servant to poke or rather kick Jon awake from his rooms at the earliest possible sign of the morning no matter how tired or weary he is. As the Castsellan of Dol Amroth, Jon can wake up in the middle of the afternoon and no one would blink twice about it. Of course he's prevented from oversleeping much by Ygritte who believes that it is never right to finish a day without accomplishing some work.
Now however Jon wakes up of his own accord under the eaves of darkness. The operation that he plans to break Stannis' fleet and army once and for all would be a risky endeavor and everyone who would be participating knows it. Yggrite has fought tooth and nail to be included, but he has disagreed. She would be after all needed for the second part of it. They have said their farewells to each other last night just in case and now no words are needed as he gets up from their shared bed.
"I will see you in the shores my love or in the embrace of the Old gods," Jon whispers as he places a kiss on the side of her cheek before leaving their shared chamber.
It is still dim and dark outside as it is barely the rise of morning. Twenty-Four men however awaits him, saluting at the arrival of his presence. He merely nods at them. All of them after all are here of their own volition. "Nothing is braver than the heart of a volunteer," as Draco teaches him during his time at Osgiliath. The operation they would be doing is almost a one way ticket for any captain or his crew. Most of them or maybe all of them would not be walking alive from this.
"Is everything ready?" Jon asks Kenji, the head captain of his imperial fleet and the one who would be helping Yggrite command once Jon starts his operation. Next to Jon, he is the most senior of his officials. Originally a local from Yi Ti among the many peasants, the man has proven himself adept at commanding ships and captains.
"We are ready Lord Castellan. The fleet stands ready. With all due respect my lord I….," he stops as Jon raises his hand.
"Say no more Captain. This is my operation and my operation alone. I will not send men to die unless I shared the burden of command," he smirks at the man. "Besides, we are Northeners by spirit if not in body after all. What kind of Northeners are we if good men and women charge headlong to danger and the one who leads them cower like a pup behind?"
"Aye, my lord. Very well then, fair winds Lord Castellan. May your operation bring victory and honor to us all,"
"Likewise Captain, await my signal, and don't hesitate,"
Kenji only nods before stepping aside. Jon simply takes a deep breath before walking to the Longship waiting for him. Unlike the massive Galleons fielded by the city of Dol Amroth, the ships carrying the operation of Jon at its first stage would be longships packed with as much straw, cinder and anything flammable that his fleet can scrounge up. The front of the longships have been cut off from its usual sharp triangular elegant design and replaced with straw dipped in tar and oil.
Walking to the stern of the ship, Jon breathes in the crisp sea air before turning to the other twenty-four captains who have boarded their own ships. With a silent nod, the rowers immediately dip their oars to the side and start rowing. There are no cheers, no speech of victory, only silence as the longboats skim like herons over the water. They barely make a sound as they cross the strong waters of the Stormlands that lead to Dragonstone.
Jon would admit that he is terrified out of his wits as he stands there "bravely" at the prow of his longboat. It takes all his willpower not to piss himself in fear. His men need a leader and by the gods he would be that leader.
Speaking of gods, it seems the Old gods are favoring them once more. A thick fog of white envelops the entire area masking the approach of Jon and his ships. He has been banking that they would at least be able to reach midway before the first sound of alarm of Stannis' fleet is given. The cover of fog however increases that chance dramatically.
It takes less than twenty minutes of silent paddling before they finally see the fleet of the self-declared King of Westeros. As Jon expected, the ships are tied by chains and beams to each other to keep themselves steady. While it is indeed a splendid sight and one worthy of morale to have two hundred ships tied to each other. It has a glaring weakness.
The waters around the Stormlands are wild and untamed, almost the same as the ones of Dol Amroth. While the Stormlords and man of their men-at-arms and vassals may be used to the sea, the same cannot be said for the regular rank and file levy and militia that makes up the majority of Stannis' forces. They are after all mostly farmers and craftsmen who manage the food supply, iron mines and the random fisherman pulled from their households to fight for their lord's war. Thus for a large force such as his, Stannis' has no choice but to stabilize his ships with beams, chains and ropes to prevent the majority of his levies from becoming seasick and thus near useless on the coming battle.
The sound of gongs and drums sounding in alarm at the opposite side of their island is the cue that Jon has been waiting for.
"Full sails! Bombadiers! Set the fronts alight!" he barks out in order.
Immediately the full sails of the longships are spread open, the ships immediately kicking a notch in speed and acceleration as they catch the wind blowing to the North. The straw at the front of the ships are also set alight with a roar as the fire catches easily to the flammable oil and fat placed there beforehand. In the matter of seconds, twenty-four longships are also aflame as they hurdle towards the awaiting fleet of Stannis.
The captains of the Baratheon Royal Fleet must have realized what Jon is up to for the bells become even more frantic and even at this distance he can see men trying to separate the ships from one another either by pushing the beams off or futilely trying to cut off the chains binding them to one another.
Arrrows immediately pelt the upcoming longships and Jon grimaces as he sees the decks being filled with archers and scorpions trying to stop his upcoming fire ships. Men fall and die but the soldiers of Dol Amroth have already resigned themselves to this suicide charge and they simply roar out their death knell as they maintain the charge of their ships.
It is Captain Clambearer's ships who makes first contact with the Baratheon fleet. His crew is screaming as one by one they fell before the longship slams like an angry boar at the front of one of the ships. Straw, oil and wrapped pig bladders all burning shower forward to the Baratheon ship exploding at the tremendous impact force. Men scream out in pain and fear as the fire washed over them. The powerful blow of the wind heading North blows the fireball to at least dozens of ships at the side of it repeating the process of panic.
On other parts of the fleet, the other ships also slam forward, discharging their payload of fire to the Baratheon fleet sending swathes of the prestigious and proud Baratheon Royal Fleet to go up in flames like cinders on the block. If anyone is looking from above, it would have made an amazing sight, like wood slowly being burned as the fire-ships and their crew make contact with fires eating ships faster than men can blink.
At the back of the fire ships Jon can see the Galleons finally moving forward carrying with them the entirety of the army of Dol Amroth. He simply smirks. Leave it to Yggrite to have an affinity for command.
Of course the casualties do not only belong to those of Stannis' fleet. Nearly every man on those fireships that make contact are dead with very few surviving. Those on the remaining fire ships that try to make contact with the middle and far side of Stannis' fleet are suffering under the barrage of arrows and stones from the Baratheons.
Captain Chi-Soo's longship looks almost like a porcupine as he leads his roaring ship to the middle part of the Baratheon fleet. His sailors are dead and dying as they fell under arrows, especially those manning the sails. Still they charge on as men with arrows sticking out of them grab the ropes maintain the course as they crash to the nearest Baratheon ship at the middle of the fleet. Massive explosions immediately occur as the process starts once more. Sailors of the longship runs to the breach of burning wood carrying each a flammable pig's bladder as they try to board the enemy ship. Spears meet them and many do not even get the chance to cross. Those that do however only have once choice, victory through death. Swords impale one man at least dozens of times even as he lobs the burning pig bladder to the straw making it explode upon impact. One other marine makes a nose dive with his package at the provision barrels of the enemy ship. Immediately the entire ship explodes into a ball of fire which then infects the others surrounding it.
The Galleons of Dol Amroth sail slowly unscathed as they pass through a line of burning ships who are claiming the lives of others who survive the firestorm. Fireships ram and explode upon impact on each side of the Baratheon fleet, the Northern wind blowing the fiery immolation to their comrades and friends. Baratheon captains frantically shout and order men to separate the ships and sail out. With how firm they have made it to be however to provide stability to the levies, it is a futile effort as the firestorms reach them. Men die by the hundreds of every second, eaten by the flames. It does not help that any Dol Amroth marine aims to go with a bang, resulting to suicide charges that target the fat line of provisions that have been stored in each ship otherwise. Ships that are lucky enough for a fireship not to explode do not survive the marines carrying flammable materials with them that result to the same ship turning to cinder.
As for Jon, he leads his fire ship the Lucky Wolf to a prime juicy target he has spotted in the distance. Once it has been named the Queen Cersei by its builders and the pride and joy of the Royal Fleet. When Stannis' fell back with the majority of the Fleet with his abandonment of King's Landing after the discovery of the Royal Bastards, he has renamed it, Robert's Hammer in honor of his older brother who is the rightful king. It is a large ship, a Galleon repurposed to a war ship with massive ballistae and holes where archers can fire.
It is almost a rain of arrows that meets Jon's fireship charge. Men of Dol Amroth fell like flies around him and Jon has to jump in and hold the ropes of the sail straight as the last of his men fell. A pain in his shoulder made him grimace as an arrow strikes him there. Grimacing, he grabs the arrow and broke it at its shaft before returning his attention to the ropes holding the sail aloft. With a mighty roar that would have made the ancient Starks proud, he crashes his ship to the Robert's Hammer making it implode from the inside as the front of Jon's fireship busted a hole on it's side, the repertoire of pig bladders multiipying the explosion force.
The impact is so great that Jon finds himself flying off his ship and the cold touch of the sea receiving him in its embrace.
…..
Yggrite, the Invasion Fleet
They are literally sailing over walls of fire in the left and the right. Around her she can see Dol Amroth Marines pouring water over the sides of the Galleon to prevent the wood from burning up out of being so near the aflame ships of the Baratheon fleet. Yggrite is no stranger to danger and fighting. This is the first time however she has seen a devastation such as this. The sight of men jumping out of the sides of their burning ships, the pained and panicked cries echoing like a symphony of the damned and worse the smell of flesh burning.
"Onwards! We push on! Each group to your stations!" barks Tormund Giantsbane leveling his short sword at the direction of the palisade walls supporting the original walls of Dragonstone.
The plan of the Dol Amroth army is simple. The approach of Dol Amroth is divided into two sides. On one hand, the forces of Yggrite and that of her other commanders would dock on the main platform of the enemy harbor where their heavier troops can walk unimpeded. The other hand however is that of Tormund's who would use the shallows and attack the palisade walls of Dragonstone. The walls of Dragonstone have always remained strong due to continuous upkeep by the Targaryen kings. However the reign of Robert filled with decadence and bankruptcy does not bode the fortress well. Stannis who only relies on his coin and pay along that of the meager lands and holdings of Dragonstone has barely managed to retain the usual upkeep of the fortress island battered by the elements.
Wooden planks are kicked off the sides of the Galleons and out jumps Dol Amroth marines from light armored auxiliaries to heavyset shield wielders and archers. Unlike the rest of Westeros, the marines of Dol Amroth is specifically trained to run and fight while being knee deep in water.
Of course despite the hundreds pouring out of the Galleons, the foe that awaits them is no slouch even though the majority of his army already burnt down to the bottom of the sea. Stannis has reinforced the unrepaired walls of Dragonstone with wooden palisades now filled with archers. Behind the wall, catapults are being readied and reloaded in preparation. That's not to mention of course the wall of stakes sitting at the beachhead bound together by thick ropes that would impede even the most confident of attackers.
If the men of Dol Amroth are looking for an easy victory here, they are dead wrong. Dragonstone might not be impregnable but it represents Stannis to the letter. Proud, stern, tacticurn and strong.
"FIRE!"
Hundreds if not thousands of arrows meet the charge of silver and blue head on. In an instant men are dying on the beach at the lack of cover. Dozens upon dozens fell struck down by arrows. The marines of Dol Amroth however expected this. Unlike Westeros, the populace that make up the sea shore city is not Andals or even Westerosi. Majority of them come from Yi Ti as peasants and with them, they brought along the culture and knowledge of their people. In this case, large rectangular shields, each the size of a man. They are hardened wood and reinforced with metal plating to prevent arrows from coming through. They are so large however that it takes one man without other weapons to carry one. As such they serve as good buffer for the arrows.
While many of the central approaching marines are taken down by arrows, the front lines are much safer as the shield-bearers form a wall of steel to prevent the vanguard from being decimated. It is then that the catapults of Storm's End start their play. Massive balls of fire crash into the shoreline sending marines flying at each direction. This time not even the shield bearers of Dol Amroth are safe as the heavy ammunition can push through the thickset defense with ease.
That does little to halt the charge however. Despite taking heavy losses, the marines reach the stakes at the shore, the shield-bearers immediately forming a cordon with their shields enabling skirmishers to start hacking at the tightly bound ropes that keep the stakes together. It is dangerous work for archers immediately focus fire on anyone they can see cutting through the ropes. Without the stakes after all, the Marines would have a clear shot at the palisade defense of Dragonstone and its archers.
The skirmishers give the best they got even with the staunch effort of the defenders. All along the stakes' line marines can be seen hacking furiously even with arrows sticking out of them. A young marine can be seen cutting through a coil of rope with two arrows sticking from his chest. Another five arrows are added only making him hack even more furiously only dying when the rope he is cutting through are finally severed.
If Stannis retains the majority of his army, he would have no problem pushing the assault back. However with less than three thousand men left with the rest ending up as cinders and ash alongside with his royal fleet, they are simply doing nothing but delaying the end. With a mighty heave, a cadre of marines finally push away a section of the stakes from the center, paving a clear way for the marines to rush over. Arrows and catapult fire land among them in an effort to stall the advance. Men of Dol Amroth die in droves but the advance does not stall as the defenders hoped it would. The wall of shields continue to push through despite the gaps caused by the catapult fire. More men only come to fill in the gaps and the defenders realize their sudden predicament going harder as the arrows and crossbow bolts of the Marines counter fire.
Baratheon archers fell and die in dozens, not noticing the first barrage of bolts. Crossbows are the staple weapon for most Rivendell legions. The bow might be cheaper and have longer range, but they take skill and time to learn. Crossbows on the other hand have lower range, but they are easy to use with a person being able to learn it in less than three hours. Also crossbow punch hard above their weight. It is something that the archers of Stannis learn as their flimsy wood covers provide little to no protection against crossbow bolts.
While the archers are reeling from the barrage of "arrows", the shield wall takes the opportunity to move the final leg close to the palisade supports where the Petards can finally approach. Petards are volunteers of Dol Amroth marines, who would be throwing the bags of pig fat and oil at the palisades and set it ablaze. It is almost a one way trip for many as they break the cover of the shield wall to run at their targets. While or two are successful, many do not even get the chance to make it, much less run back.
One rather lucky Petard who managed to run and set ablaze the main support of the palisade due to his timing of another barrage of the crossbow bolts to duck and find cover, failed rather at his attempt on getting back as an arrow strikes him at his shoulder causing him to fall on the mud. Immediately Tormund is out of the shield wall roaring his displeasure as he swats arrows left and right with his short sword before running towards his downed soldier. Grabbing his scruff, he immediately hauls the man back to the lines a few meters away as crossbowmen and skirmishers cover them.
At first it looks like they would make it. However it once more proves ill as four arrows strike Tormund at the back making him fell to his knees. Immediately the shield line breaks cover causing nearly twenty men to die from arrows as they rush to help Tormund and bring him to the cover of the shields.
To his credit, the commander of the Dol Amroth Marines does not simply cower and die due to his fatal wound. Instead he angrily grabs the last of the pig bladders from the other Petards before breaking cover to rush at the palisade support wall. Tormund Giantsbane's roar can be heard from one end of the line to the other as at least ten arrows strike him before he slams with all his "ammunition" at the already damaged wall.
The result is instantaneous. A powerful explosion rocks the entirety of Dragonstone as the Palisade support wall crashes down like twigs dropping hundreds of archers and support staff of Stannis' men on the wrong side of the wall. Immediately the marines are on them hacking and slashing the unprepared soldiers. Nearly no archer is left on the walls giving opportunity for the ladders to be raised in this part of the fortress.
While the assault on the walls is gaining momentum, the ones at the gate are almost finished. Like everything else in Dragonstone it is badly maintained. Ever since the fall of the Targaryens, no one truly expected that anyone would dare attack Dragonstone despite its key position. Other than the fortress that is costly to maintain, there are simply no strategic value of taking the island which has barely anything of value.
Stannis however has done his best despite his meager support and coin during Robert's reign. A wooden gate of criss-crossing beams has been put at the entrance other than the main rotten gate. The main army of Dol Amroth however has not been dissuaded on bringing it down.
Archers support the makeshift ram they have brought along as it is pushed upward. Petards rush the arrows once more placing their bloated ammunitions at the wooden beams before setting them alight. Normally they would be hard pressed to set their explosive cargoes on the gate but the diversion of the marines at the beach is bringing the majority of Stannis' defenses at that area.
"Blood for the Baratheons! Fire!" Yggrite's command rings true as the archers let loose with fire arrows at the fatty bags currently not burning at the first gate. The result is an instantaneous explosion that rises to the defenders above burning them alive.
"Ram! Push through! For Dol Amroth! For Victory!" her cheer is responded by the troops as more men help push the ram on the last gate which is rotting and decrepit, the original gate of Dragonstone.
"Having fun I see?" the ragged voice of Jon makes Yggrite frown as her partner and husband wobbles up at her side still wet and soggy from where a couple of soldiers fished him.
"I specifically told you to stay back husband," she chides as the stubborn Northener draws his own sword.
"And let you have all the glory dear wife? Not likely, besides. It's only Stannis we have to deal with after this," he replies as the ram heaves and crashes to the wooden gate like a hammer on paper. The badly maintained wood crumbles under the impact and the soldiers of Dol Amroth rush in.
"Well, shall we?" Yggrite simply rolls her eyes as her infuriating husband joins the charge in which she also follows.
To say the least, the charge to the main hall of Dragonstone is anti-climatic. The remaining forces of Stannis do their best to slow the advance as best as they can. To their credit, they fought like warriors, not giving one step back, fighting on narrow corridors where the large numbers of the invaders are rendered moot. They are simply trampled through however, the quality and quantity of Dol Amroth's soldiers far ahead than the regular man-at-arms.
In less than twenty minutes they finally reach the main hall where Stannis awaits with fifty of his men and that red priestess of his.
"The bastard of Winterfell arrives, here to take my head off for me bastard?" sneers the balding man that is Stannis Baratheon who doesn't even looked unfazed even as the hall slowly fills with more Dol Amroth marines.
"Former bastard," corrects her husband. "Falling now to insults with the rest of your men being food for worms and the fish pretender?"
"Funny you called me that since I am the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms. Not any of Cersei's and Jaimie's bastards," growls the man.
"Very convenient excuse and made up story for a brother that the king holds no love with. It must be agonizing for you to dream what you cannot have, ever,"
One can hear the grinding of teeth of the man who seems near apoplectic with rage. "I have always done my duty to my brother and the realm. I served loyally even when my brother drags his fat arse around the kingdom. There is no point in discussing this more,"
"Yes, there is no point," Jon Stark agrees leveling his weapon as Stannis draws his own sword.
"He is the Lord of the Light's chosen, Azor Ahai, the prophecied savior of Westeros!" declares the Red Priestess at his side.
"Right, and I'm Lord Commander of the Night's Watch," replies Yggrite with a roll of her eyes earning her the chuckles of her men.
The fight is rather short. Jon goes straight against Stannis and the rest made sure that the duel have no disturbance. For a moment it is terrifying as the Red Priestess turns the closest ten men to cinders. She is given no chance for a second attack though as Yggrite's arrow strikes her right in the forehead while she's busy doing her voodoo magic. The fifty men of Stannis doesn't last long and so does their lord.
Stannis might have a reputation of a commander but he is certainly no great fighter. He is after all a lord who commands from the back and not at the front. Jon Stark on the other hand is a former bastard whose mindset has been set that the only way he can gain recognition from his House and to get away from his status is through martial prowess. Unlike the Baratheon Lord, he is also a natural at swordplay and young. Three minutes and the brother of Robert's body fell headless on the floor as his head flops like a ball thudding on the stairs before coming to a stop near the painted table.
Silence now reigns supreme as Jon Stark turns to his panting men with a smirk.
"Sound the horns! Stannis Baratheon is dead! We have won!"
….
Author's Note:
Yayyyy another battle done. This is so tiring to write. Add the fact that it's 5K words wew! Next up, the second to the last battle for the Throne. The Battle of Red Fields. Delianah Tully versus the Vale Knights. Guess who will win?
I hope you like this Reviewers. I'm getting tired of the story so I am pushing through as best I can. I am aiming to write a new one soon.
What do you guys think of a plot in warhammer 40k universe where one is reincarnated as an AI of the Grand Republic of Humankind. He belongs to a faction of Terra Forma, humans who believe that human flesh and ingenuity is better than technology always. He would wake up basically as an AI to a major cloning facility left behind during Humanity's Golden Age where he can produce and equip clone armies that Terra Forma members used to fight the Iron Men before? Just an idea. Do you think it will do in the 40k universe?