Treason!

In the dimly lit solar of the Great Keep, Balon Greyjoy sat upon the Seastone Chair, surrounded by his advisers, trusted captains, and the Drowned God's devoted priests. The salty scent of the sea filled the air, a fitting ambiance for the Ironborn lord."Aye, m'lord, they've started their assault on our walls," one of the captains informed.

"Did they now? Then that buffoon callin' himself King will pay the Iron price for it," Balon scoffed.

"Ye speak true, m'lord. The Drowned God watches o'er us. The Greenlanders won't breach our walls; they'll meet their end beneath them, by the thousands," affirmed an aged priest, his words carrying the weight of devout conviction. "What's dead may never die."

"What is dead may never die!" echoed through the hall, the assembled Ironborn responding in unison.

Dagmer Cleftjaw, a grizzled captain with a weather-beaten face, approached with a stern countenance. His voice echoed with the ruggedness of the Iron Islands as he spoke, "M' Lord, ya should've listened to the messenger instead o' cuttin' him down. Might 'ave been valuable info to aid us in this upcomin' struggle."

Balon, his disdain for diplomacy evident, scoffed at the suggestion, "Greenlander words bring nothin' but lies and deceit. He'd 'ave sought to demoralize my men with tales o' false hope. I'll not 'ave such weakness taint the spirit o' the Ironborn."

Dagmer, respectful yet steadfast, held his ground, "M' Lord, even false words can reveal intentions. We might 'ave learned more 'bout their strategy, their plans. 'Twould 'ave been a valuable insight."

Balon leaned forward, his eyes piercing through the dimness, "Insight we do not need, Dagmer. We'll crush the greenlanders with the might o' the Ironborn. Their plans'll unravel 'fore the strength o' our arms. Words are wind; only actions matter."

Dagmer nodded, acknowledging his lord's conviction, yet concern lingered in his gaze, "As ya command, m' Lord. But this'll be a costly battle. Can't afford to underestimate 'em."

Balon, unyielding, declared, "Costly or not, we'll prevail. Send every warrior we 'ave, and if need be, sacrifice every thrall in this castle to achieve victory. The Drowned God'll reward our boldness and condemn those who stand against us."

Dagmer bowed his head in submission, "So be it, m' Lord. The greenlanders'll feel the fury o' the Ironborn, and their defeat'll echo 'cross the seas."

Balon Greyjoy, watchin' Dagmer stride from the hall, knew 'im to be a capable, ruthless, an' trusty Captain, followin' 'im since their youth. The greenlanders aimin' to breach the castle wall didn't trouble 'im much. Takin' Pyke be an arduous task even with greater numbers, an' they lacked siege weapons.

Reports from the wall indicated the Baratheon had not ordered the construction of such engines of war. The death of Robert's messenger at the gates has angered the Usurper making him resort to an all-out assault, neglectin' the patient buildin' of siege weapons.

No siege weapons meant no immediate threat to Pyke. The Ironborn could withstand the greenlander onslaught as long as they have access to the sea. The prospect of the greenlanders sittin' outside the walls was not a concern; the Ironborn could endure.

Yet, Balon Greyjoy's main worry lay with the safety of 'is kin, believin' 'em to be taken by 'is elusive brother Euron, who disappeared with 'is ship. The fate of 'is abducted kin cast a shadow over 'is thoughts.

"After I triumph in this war an' claim the rule o'er all Westeros, I'll confront any threat to my kin," Balon pondered aloud. "If harm befalls 'em, I'll feel sorrow, but the Drowned God, in 'is wisdom, will bless me with more sons. I'll take another wife an' sire more heirs for House Greyjoy."

As Dagmer exited the Great Keep's halls, his attention was drawn to an Ironborn messenger sprinting towards him, a look of fear etched on his face. Dagmer swiftly intercepted the man, demanding an explanation for the commotion. The Ironborn messenger, visibly shaken, hurriedly shared unsettling news.

Amidst the turmoil, a disturbance had erupted among the horses, providing cover for individuals dressed in Ironborn armor. Exploiting the chaos, these infiltrators had deftly manipulated the iron portcullis at the main gate, allowing the enemy to infiltrate the castle. The invaders were now engaged in combat with the Ironborn in the courtyard.

Dagmer's eyes widened with shock at the dire revelation. He grasped the Ironborn messenger's collar, urging him to speak the truth. The messenger, fear evident on his face, insisted that the enemy had indeed breached the gates, and a fierce battle was underway within the courtyard.

"Bloody 'ell!" Dagmer muttered under his breath as he rushed to the nearest window, squinting at the unfolding battle outside. The clash of steel and the sounds of war confirmed the grim news brought by the messenger.

"Captain Dagmer, I need to inform our lord. Let me go, please," the messenger pleaded, still in Dagmer's firm grip.

Dagmer cast a quick glance between the messenger, the gate of the Great Keep hall, and the chaos outside where the Greenlanders were slaughtering Ironborn. "Fuck it! What's the lord gonna do with your informing now? Save the city?" Dagmer bellowed, dismissing the messenger's plea.

"But I still—" The messenger's words were abruptly cut off as Dagmer unceremoniously hurled him out of the window. "Noooo!"

Dagmer didn't spare a second glance below to check the messenger's fate. Instead, he focused on the critical decision at hand. Run or fight to the last breath? The old ways clashed with the reality of the breached city. It was a brutal choice.

With a grim expression, Dagmer decided to face it head-on. He headed straight for the Great Keep hall, pushing through the gates to find Balon. The scene inside was normal, with Balon discussing food stocks with the Castellan.

No one noticed Dagmer's entrance until he walked purposefully toward the Seastone chair. Balon, registering Dagmer's presence, inquired, "Dagmer? Why are you back? Is there a problem?"

"Ah, yes. I've just learned something that could save the lives of numerous Ironborn and bring a swift end to the war," Dagmer declared.

"Really? What is it? Don't leave me hangin'." Balon leaned forward, intrigued.

"My Lord, I'll never let you hang," Dagmer cryptically replied, climbing the stairs towards the Seastone chair, "but for the safety of me and numerous other Ironborn, I'll have to end you!"

Balon's confusion turned to shock as he saw his loyal Captain raising an axe high, ready to strike. "Dagmer, wait—"

Puchak

With a slick squelching sound, the axe cleaved Balon's head and chest in two splashing blood on the chair and on Dagmer. 

The crowd and Castellan, standing nearest to the Seastone chair, gasped in horror and took a step back in fear.

Dagmer, with his split mouth and four lips, grinned menacingly, eyeing the onlookers.

"Now, any of ya daft enough to want revenge for our departed lord? I'll gladly oblige." 

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