The Narrow Sea…
The sound of clanging swords and the screech of metal filled the air as Aegon and Daeron Velaryon engaged in combat, their swords clashing as they fought to the bitter end. Although Daeron was older and more experienced, he found himself at a serious disadvantage as Aegon proved to be a powerful and fast opponent, overwhelming him with his relentless attacks. His strength and speed were too much for Daeron to keep up with, and he was pushed further and further back. Aegon relentlessly attacked Daeron, driving him into a corner with a barrage of strikes. The two clashed, their swords locked in a deadlock while they struggled for control, with neither side giving an inch. Suddenly, Aegon delivered a vicious headbutt to Daeron's face, causing blood to spurt from his nose as the bones snapped. Without missing a beat, Aegon kicked him hard in the chest, sending Daeron tumbling down the steps and onto the upper deck of the Triarchy vessel. "This is the best you can do? My brothers hit harder than this!"
"Gah! Damn boy!" Daeron struggled to regain his footing, blood streaming down his face.
Aegon executed a front flip as he leaped from the ship's helm, gracefully touching down on the deck below. His movements were fluid and precise. As a prince of House Targaryen, he was a dragonrider and a warrior, possessing an impressive array of talents. However, what set Aegon apart from Daeron was his years of rigorous training under the tutelage of the Lykirī Mēre's finest assassins, honing his abilities to read his opponents' every move and exploit their weaknesses to his advantage.
"You allowed House Strong's bastards to usurp power and seize away our rightful place. I will not allow our bloodline to end like this! I want you all dead!"
As the battle raged on, the combatants' surroundings became a blur, their focus solely on each other. The ship rocked violently beneath their feet, the sound of splintering wood and crashing waves adding to the chaos of their duel.
"And? Once I'm dead, what will you do?"
"I will rebuild House Velaryon, purifying it with true Valyrian blood!"
"You fucking hypocrite! If you wish to rebuild House Velaryon, then why are you fighting alongside the Triarchy?!"
"I… You… SHUT UP!"
Daeron's swordsmanship skills had become increasingly predictable, indicating that Aegon's words had deeply gotten under his skin. Every move Daeron made was easily predictable, allowing Aegon ample time to deftly sidestep his strikes with the fluidity and grace of a skilled Braavosi water dancer. The adrenaline coursing through his veins heightened his senses, allowing him to anticipate his every move. As Daeron exerted more energy into his strikes, exhaustion began to take its toll on him. On the other hand, Aegon effortlessly sidestepped to the left and right, skillfully evading his strikes. With a fierce growl, Daeron lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with a newfound speed. But Aegon was one step ahead, effortlessly parrying each strike with a fluid grace. His movements were like a dance, his body flowing seamlessly from one position to another. With a graceful leap, Aegon vaulted over Daeron's head, landing lightly on his feet behind him. Daeron's frustration grew as he realized that his opponent was not only evading his attacks but also effortlessly countering them.
As the battle raged on, Daeron's exhaustion became more apparent. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his muscles burned with fatigue. On the other hand, Aegon seemed unphased by the physical exertion, his movements remaining fluid and precise. With a sudden burst of energy, Daeron launched himself at Aegon, hoping to catch him off guard. But Aegon effortlessly sidestepped, causing Daeron's strike to miss its mark, leaving him vulnerable and off balance.
Seizing the opportunity, Aegon swiftly closed the distance between them with a calculated and ruthless efficiency, his blade poised to strike again. In one fluid motion, his blade sliced through the air. His strike was swift and precise, aimed directly at the vulnerable tendons in the popliteal fossa, the hollow space behind the knees. Aegon's years of training and experience had honed his skills to perfection, and his strike landed with devastating accuracy. The impact of Aegon's attack reverberated through Daeron's body, causing a searing pain to shoot up his legs. The tendons in his popliteal fossa were instantly severed, leaving him unable to support his own weight. As if in slow motion, Daeron's legs gave way beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap of agony.
"Aaaargh! Gaaaaah!"
Aegon stood over Daeron, who writhed in pain on the ground. He could end it all now, delivering a final blow that would ensure his opponent's demise. Or he could choose to show mercy, allowing Daeron to live with the knowledge of his defeat. He knew that victory was within his grasp, and he would not let this opportunity slip away. With a swift motion, Aegon raised his blade high above his head, ready to deliver the final blow.
A resounding battle cry abruptly shattered Aegon's concentration. His attention was immediately drawn to the noise, and he swiftly turned to witness Daeron's brother, Daemion Velaryon, charging towards him with his sword gripped tightly. The bright hue of Daemion's blade, a shimmering silver infused with traces of ethereal blue, glinted in the sunlight as it sliced through the air. Its radiant glow was mirrored by the ship's masts, once proud and towering, now stood as charred remnants of their former glory. They had endured the relentless onslaught of dragonflame; their wooden frames weakened and scorched beyond repair. With a resounding crack, they finally succumbed to the fiery assault, breaking off at their bases and crashing onto the upper deck. As the masts plummeted, a cascade of splintered wood and tangled rigging rained upon the ship's surface, creating a chaotic scene of destruction. The fallen masts around them crackled and hissed, the remnants of the battle still raging.
"*Reeeeeeeeaaaaaah!*"
However, just as Daemion was about to strike, Maelyx swiftly swooped in from the side with lightning speed. With a mighty swoosh, the dragon seized him in his powerful jaws, clenching him around the waist in a vice-like grip as he flew into the sky. The force of Maelyx's grip left Daemion gasping for breath, his sword falling from his grasp. Aegon blinked before recognizing that his twin brother, Viserys, had come to his aid. The bond between the two was unbreakable, their connection as twins transcending the chaos of war. They had always been inseparable, their lives intertwined since birth. Even now, their unity would prove their greatest strength in this crucial moment.
With his jaws still tightly clamped around Daemion's waist, Maelyx sank his teeth into the Velaryon's armor, exerting increasing pressure. As the excruciating pain coursed through his body, Daemion's mind raced with thoughts of survival. Blood gushed from his mouth as he desperately clawed at Maelyx's scales, his fingers slick with his own life's fluid. With each violent shake, his vision blurred, and his strength waned, but his determination remained unwavering. The dragon's jaws clamped down with an unyielding grip, the sound of cracking bones echoing in the air while Maelyx violently thrashed from side to side. Daemion's screams were drowned out by the sheer force of the dragon's assault.
As the first bite pierced his abdomen, Daemion felt a searing pain shoot through his body. The sharp edges of Maelyx's teeth tore through the layers of his armor, rendering flesh and shattering bone with a merciless ferocity before puncturing his intestines and severing his spinal cord. Agony consumed him, but still, he fought on. However, Maelyx jerked his head to the side with a sickening lurch, causing Daemion's body to twist unnaturally. The second bite proved to be the final blow, a savage act that tore him in half. The dragon's teeth ripped through sinew and muscle, separating his upper body from his lower half in a gruesome display of power. Blood sprayed in all directions, painting the battlefield in a macabre tapestry. Daemion's life force drained away, his body now a mere vessel of broken bones and torn flesh. The once brave sailor and son of Vaemond Velaryon was now reduced to a lifeless husk.
Maelyx released his grip; his jaws stained crimson with the blood of his fallen foe. With a triumphant roar, the dragon flung away the remains of Daemion Velaryon, causing his dismembered corpse to tumble through the air, his limbs limp and lifeless, before splashing onto the water's surface. The body floated for a while before disappearing, swallowed by the dark depths of the Narrow Sea.
Aegon, redirecting his attention to the fallen Daeron, stood over him.
"Ngh! I… I fought for Driftmark! I fought for our people!" Daeron groaned, dragging himself across the deck. His body weakened, his movements becoming sluggish and uncoordinated. The once defiant traitor now writhed in agony.
"Then you should not have committed treason by aiding an avowed enemy of the crown," Aegon waved off the statement, his voice dripped with condescension, disdain, and a hint of arrogance. "You must be punished for that." Glancing at a nearby fallen Lykirī Mēre agent, the young Targaryen prince's attention was drawn to a vial containing a murky green liquid. Fully aware of its contents, Aegon carefully uncorked the vial, releasing a faint scent that hinted at its potency. He tilted the vial without hesitation, allowing the mysterious green substance to cascade out and drench Daeron's body. The liquid clung to his skin, seeping into his pores. Before long, Aegon gripped around a blazing piece of wood that he had torn from the roaring fire. The flames danced and flickered, casting an eerie glow on his determined features. The wood crackled and popped, sending fiery sparks into the air as if mirroring the intensity in his eyes. "Return to dust, Ser Daeron Velaryon. Atone for your sins in the next life." Raising it over him, Aegon released his hold.
"CURSE YOOOOOOOOOOOOUUU!~" Daeron's agonizing scream echoed through the air as the flames eagerly reached out, craving destruction. The wooden structure collided with his shattered form, instantly engulfing him in a fierce inferno with tremendous force. The crackling of his burning flesh drowned out any feeble cries of pain that might have escaped his lips. The relentless green flames danced and devoured, their insatiable appetite driving them to consume every inch of Daeron's being. Gradually, his anguished cries and desperate pleas faded away, leaving behind only his charred remains, reduced to nothing but ashes.
While Daeron was engulfed in flames caused by the wildfire, Aegon swiftly retrieved his sword to rejoin the battle. Spotting nearby Triarchy corsairs readying to aim their scorpions at his brothers, sister-wife, cousins, aunt, and father, Aegon wasted no time and launched an attack against them immediately. He was determined that no one would dare to threaten his family and escape the consequences. With Lord Corlys' men providing a distraction, aided by Addam and Alyn's, Aegon fearlessly cut through a swarm of enemies, his sword slicing through the air as he advanced. With each swing of his sword, Aegon cleaved through the enemy ranks, his strikes precise and deadly. The screeching sound of metal meeting metal filled the air as he parried and countered, his movements fluid and calculated.
Once confident in their advantage, the Triarchy corsairs found themselves on the receiving end of a relentless assault as they watched their comrades fall one by one. With how Aegon was rushing them, they had never encountered such a fierce warrior since Prince Daemon Targaryen at the Battle of Bloodstone. With unwavering determination and the adrenaline pumping through his veins, Aegon continued his assault with a relentless fury. You fuckers killed my dragon. Now, you're all going to pay the price! He moved with a grace and precision that left the corsairs struggling to keep up, and his sword and dagger flashed through the air with deadly accuracy. One by one, they fell before him, their bodies littering the deck of the ship. Aegon's attacks were swift and merciless; his every strike calculated to incapacitate his opponents swiftly and efficiently, and he showed no mercy to those who dared to stand in his way.
As the battle raged, Aegon's focus remained unbroken. He anticipated the corsairs' every move, exploiting their momentary lapses in defense to deliver devastating blows. His dagger became an extension of his arm, slicing through flesh and armor alike. With each swing of his sword, he seemed to dance through the chaos, effortlessly dodging the feeble attempts of the Triarchy corsairs to defend themselves.
Undeterred by the danger, Aegon positioned himself on a wooden railing and fearlessly leaped toward the scorpions. The corsairs operating these weapons were completely surprised and had no time to react. Helplessly, one of them found themselves unable to avoid Aegon's pounce as he drove his sword deep through their chest upon impact. Aegon swiftly got up, prepared for another attack now that he had their full attention. With a quick motion, he pulled out a dagger from his belt and slashed the inner thigh of a nearby corsair before stabbing them in the chest through their armor. He then efficiently took down three more corsairs before leaping into the air and delivering a solid kick to his next target's chest, causing them to tumble overboard.
Aegon's heart pounded in his chest. He struggled to catch his breath as the rush of adrenaline began to subside, his body still trembling from the intense battle that had just taken place. Undeterred by his previous display of strength, the Triarchy corsairs slowly began closing in on him with a menacing determination. Their eyes gleamed with malice, and their sabers glinted as they prepared to strike.
But fate had other plans.
Before the corsairs could make their move, a deafening roar echoed through the air, causing them to freeze in their tracks. A searing torrent of dragonflame erupted from the heavens, engulfing the corsairs in a fiery inferno. The flames roared with intensity, and the heat radiating off them scorched the very air around him. In an instant, their bodies were reduced to nothing more than charred remains scattered across the ship's deck like discarded ashes.
Due to the proximity of the blast, Aegon was propelled backward by the sheer force of the explosion, his limbs flailing as he crashed onto the unforgiving wooden planks of the ship's deck. Pain shot through his body, but he quickly recovered with a kip-up. His eyes searched the skies above. And there, amidst the billowing smoke and fading embers, he saw Vermithor circling through the air with his older brother, Jaehaerys, seated atop the Bronze Fury's back.
"Dracarys!" Jaehaerys commanded.
Vermithor strafed by, obliterating more Triarchy ships with dragonflame. Passing by, Vermax unleashed flames on the surface, deliberately targeting the scorpions. Accompanied by Syrax and Silverwing, Aemma and Rhaenyra provided cover as the Velaryon fleet's double envelopment slowly began to entangle the Triarchy remnants' armada in their trap. With their escape points sealed off, there was no way for them to escape. Rammed by the Sea Snake on one side and the Valyria's Vengeance on the other, nearby longships threw armored planks onto the enemy vessels' decks to allow the Blacks' forces to board each Triarchy ship.
"Dracarys!" Aemma urged.
"Dracarys!" Rhaenyra called out.
"Dracarys!" Jacaerys ordered.
Vermithor soared through the sky, unleashing dragonflame upon the Triarchy ships, obliterating them in its wake. Vermax followed suit, deliberately targeting the scorpions mounted on the surface of a targeted enemy vessel with its fiery breath, his flames engulfing them and rendering them useless. Meanwhile, Aemma and Rhaenyra, riding atop their dragons Syrax and Silverwing, soared through the sky, providing cover and protection for the Velaryon fleet. They deterred any attempts by the Triarchy to retaliate or escape. Syrax and Silverwing circled above, their wings beating furiously as they unleashed their own dragonflame upon the Triarchy ships. The sea boiled beneath them as the flames licked at the water, scorching everything in their path. This allowed the Velaryon fleet enough time to execute the double envelopment strategy, slowly entangling the Triarchy remnants' armada in their trap. The escape routes for the enemy were sealed off, leaving them with no way to flee.
"Admiral! We're trapped!" cried out a corsair.
The Sea Snake rammed into them from one side, while Valyria's Vengeance did the same from the other. The impact was devastating, causing chaos and destruction among the enemy ranks. At the same time, nearby longships threw armored planks onto the enemy vessels' decks. These planks served as makeshift bridges, allowing the Blacks to board each enemy vessel swiftly for close-quarters combat.
Their ships were battered, and their anti-dragon armaments supplies were nearly depleted, but the Triarchy armada refused to surrender. They knew that defeat meant certain death. Confronted with the imminent threat of annihilation, they fought with unwavering determination, driven solely by their instinctual will to survive. Similar to a trapped wild animal, they fought with unyielding ferocity. As the enemy closed in from one side, the flames of their own ships licking at their heels from the other, the crew of the Triarchy fleet stood firm. They crewed their stations with a grim resolve.
As Jaehaerys and Vermithor approached the Triarchy armada's fourth fleet, the dragon's fiery breath ignited the sails of the enemy ships, causing chaos and panic to erupt among the Triarchy's sailors. Flames danced across the wooden vessels, devouring them with an insatiable hunger. Meanwhile, Viserys and Nettles joined the fray. Maelyx, smaller in size but no less formidable, darted through the air, weaving in and out of the Triarchy's fleet, striking with precision and leaving destruction in his wake. His smaller size allowed him to maneuver effortlessly, evading enemy attacks and striking at vulnerable points.
On the other hand, Nettles rode Sheepstealer and rained fire and destruction upon the Triarchy's ships. The enemy corsairs could not defend themselves as the dragon's fiery breath and powerful claws tore through their vessels, reducing them to splinters. Viserys and Nettles's hit-and-run maneuver was a stroke of brilliance. They attacked swiftly and disappeared into the skies before the Triarchy's forces could retaliate.
With his dragon, Vermax, beneath him, Jacaerys descended upon a formation of Lyseni war galleys, his presence striking fear into the hearts of his enemies as he prepared to engage in battle.
"They're coming from everywhere!"
Sharako forcefully seized one of his subordinates, gripping his collar tightly, and proceeded to shake him like a lifeless ragdoll. Filled with frustration, he sternly rebuked the man, "You fool! A mature dragon's outer layer of skin is protected by its sturdy scales. Target their wings instead; they are nothing but a thin, delicate layer of skin. They'll damage easily if the bolt's momentum is strong enough to pierce it," he ordered, tossing the sailor aside before swiftly making his way toward the scorpion affixed to the bow of the Hydra's Lament. "Get those grappling hooks and net ready to deploy! NOW!" he stood with his feet firmly planted on the deck, his eyes fixed intently on the dragons soaring in the sky above. He knew that Vaelor was flying too fast to be targeted, making it difficult to aim at. On the other hand, Vermithor, the oldest dragon present, had harder scales but was slower. With a deep breath, the Lyseni admiral steadied himself and focused his gaze on Prince Jaehaerys' dragon, the only viable target.
A bolt loaded onto the mounted scorpion was made ready for the shot. Sharako held the anti-dragon armament firmly, letting his fingers wrap around the wooden handle. The bolt shaft was made of solid oak, with a barbed iron point designed to inflict maximum damage. As he took aim, he silently prayed, hoping his shot would hit the mark. Finally, he had his target in sight and let loose the bolt. The projectile sailed through the air, its trajectory true, and struck Vermithor in the shoulder.
"*URAAAAAAAAAAAH!*" The Bronze Fury let out a painful roar and began to tumble from the sky, with Prince Jaehaerys clutching his saddle for dear life.
"Vērmithari! (Vermithor!)" Jaehaerys shouted.
Sharako watched on, a sense of satisfaction washing over him, knowing that his aim had been true and the enemy's dragon had been struck.
However, just as Vermithor was on the verge of striking the water, he suddenly regained control. He vigorously flapped his mighty wings, allowing him to hover gracefully above the shimmering surface. The Bronze Fury extended his neck and seized the bolt with his teeth, pulling it out with a sharp tug. Removing the bolt from his hide, but he refused to let it slow him down and crushed it with his powerful jaws. "*ROOOOOOOOOOOOA!*" Vermithor roared angrily. The dragon's eyes blazed with fury as he scanned the surrounding area, searching for the source of the attack. His keen senses picked up the slightest movements before spotting the Hydra's Lament. His tan eyes locked onto the humans who dared to attack him.
Sharako knew that he was in trouble. His war galley was no match for the dragon's fiery breath, and he knew that he had to act fast if he wanted to survive.
"Dracarys!" Jaehaerys retaliated.
A molten wave of dragonflame surged forth from Vermithor's jaws. Its fiery tendrils licked the air, hungry for destruction and chaos. As the wave crashed towards the Hydra's Lament, panic and desperation gripped the hearts of the crew. However, at the last minute, Sharako leaped from the deck with lightning reflexes and a mind honed by years of naval warfare without a moment's hesitation, his body soaring through the air into the Narrow Sea.
The scorching heat of the molten fire wave pursued Sharako relentlessly, its fiery tendrils reaching out hungrily. The intense heat seared his skin, threatening to consume him whole. But his spirit burned brighter than the flames that pursued him. With every ounce of strength, he propelled himself further into the depths of the water, narrowly escaping the clutches of the fiery inferno. As he submerged himself, the world around him transformed. The once tumultuous surface became a sanctuary from Vermithor's fury. The water enveloped him, offering solace and protection from the destructive forces that raged above. Admiral Sharako's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of relief and adrenaline coursing through his veins. From the depths, he watched in awe as his flagship, the Hydra's Lament – a symbol of his naval prowess – was obliterated by dragonflame. The flames danced and roared, consuming everything in their path, reducing the once-mighty vessel to mere ashes. The loss was a bitter pill to swallow, but Sharako knew that his survival was paramount.
As the molten fire wave gradually receded, leaving behind a trail of destruction, Sharako resurfaced, gasping for air. His eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any signs of his crew. He then heard Racallio's voice from afar.
"Fire the grappling hooks! Target the smaller ones!"
Chapter End
Author's Note: Well, it looks like the Battle of the Gullet is (so far to date) is going to be the largest military conflict as we are going into Part 5 on a cliffhanger. With the loss of his dragon, Aegon Targaryen is on the war path. With the double envelopment in place, everyone is deploying all their dragons against the Triarchy remnants' armada. Although Sharako managed to lay a hit on Vermithor, that just pissed off the Bronze Fury who retaliated and destroyed the Hydra's Lament. However, Racallio is still in action and is telling his men to target the smaller dragons. Who's likely to be the next casualty?
C.E.W: The Battle of the Gullet continues as the Triarchy are beginning to falter as they lost over half of their fleet. The Velaryon defectors are dead, and with them any chance of the Caltrops have of having an ally in Driftmark. Admiral Sharako has lost his ship and is in the water, and Racallio has taken command for the time being, at least until Sharako can get to a Triarchy boat, if he can that is which all the chaos that is happening.
Despite losing two dragons, the Blacks press their advantage on the remaining Triarchy ships. Although there is still a danger as the Triarchy are using grappling hooks on the smaller dragons, chances are one dragon might be hit. It could be Jacaerys, who might take the hit for Jaehaerys given Vermithor is wounded, larger and easier to hit, Jacaerys might die for Jaehaerys.
Questions:
Is Driftmark safe from Triarchy attack?
―Yes, the Triarchy fleet never reached it
How capable is Racallio at commanding a fleet?
―Armies are his specialty, not a fleet. So the Triarchy corsairs are going to end up being confused.
What's left of the Triarchy fleet is trapped?
―There's only 38 ships left.
I take it Luke is sitting the rest of the battle out?
―Yes, out of sight from the battle.
IrishHermit2: Aegon in the books seemed to have gone off his rocker after Rook's Rest and the injuries he received. At least he somewhat had his dragon. Since a rider and their dragon are connected, I can imagine that Aegon the Elder is losing his mind after the death of Sunfyre. Even if the Blacks lose, I can't imagine that anyone would willingly follow a cockless, bastard of a king.
As much as I hated reading about a Velaryon's death, Dareon and Daeimon dying is a good thing in the long run. Assuming that Lucerys survives the Dance, those two would cause him nothing but endless trouble.
Even with the loss of two of their dragons, the Blacks seem to be on the winning side. One key factor that I have noticed is that they are truly there for one another. Not one of them is trying to one up the other or have a hidden agenda. It is also of note, that their mother truly loves them and is there for them. Not like Beatrice and her father, who only see her children as pawns.
randomdude24: Good progress on the Gullet. I'm surprised this will span 5 parts, but this is a bloody battle that is showing to favor the blacks.
Aegon managed to kill Dareon, while Viserys killed Daeimon removing 2 commanders from the Triarchy and the caltrops, even though they were just pawns for a distraction losing them means the caltrops won't have any chance of stealing house Velaryon and it's fleet.
Sharako, I'm assuming is down for the count lost his prized ship, now it's just survival. Getting the feeling once this battle is over he'll be captured and be used as a message for any who defy Aeonar. Racallio is not done yet, still fighting to the bitter end.
Questions,
So what is the overall damage for the Triarchy? How many ships and men have been killed?
―Triarchy lost 52 ships and 4,000 men.
What's the current damage for the Velaryon fleet? How many ships and men have they lost?
―Velaryon fleet lost 46 ships and 850 men.