An Uphill Battle

Iron Islands,

Pyke,

Galbart Glover pulled the reins of his horse, his long brown hair flowed in the winds as he ran a gaze over what was below. A stern expression, a serious outlook and hundreds if not thousands of northmen behind him. The Northern Lord was confident that he would win this little battle.... or he should have been at least.

Cold sweat trickled down the man's forehead, the slow wind brushing past the uncovered parts of his skin didn't do much to help. He could spot some 50 or so ships beaching, no, they were running ashore, crucified bodies up front.... Although, this didn't enrage the Northern Lord. It may as well have been a pleasant surprise, the Faith of the Seven was something loath for the Northerners.

The Reach troops still at the beach had not yet moved, one may think them brave but Galbart and his fellow Northern Lords knew better. Those cowards were rooted on the ground like trees, to them this may have well been a herald of the end. Instead of being enraged, they were shivering in their iron boots at seeing their Gods defiled.

Southerners were really stupid cunts.

And then, under his watchful eye.

A powerful voice ordered, no roared, the deathly silence that had taken over all men there only served to add to it's intensity.

"Ironborn! With me! Show these mainlander fucks how to fight!"

Lord Glover knew better than most that this was not just bravado. The Ironborn were among the best warriors on Planetos, it did not help that every man, woman, child and elderly knew to fight, taught to do so from when they were but babes.

However, what he did next was something that came right after.

A man, bloody and injured, was the first to jump down to land. A spear in one hand, he swiftly beheaded a Reach soldier standing nearby with another. Turning to look up at them with a grin plastered on his rough yet strangely attractive face.

In response, the Northern Lord too grinned back at him, after all, which man would not welcome a worthwhile fight with open arms? His brother by blood, Robett Glover stood to his side, another trusted aide to the other.

They welcomed this fight...

Though, if there was one thing they found advantageous yet disappointing, was that they outnumbered the ironborn forces in sight by quite a lot...

Galbart's gaze unintentionally went to the tall giant of a man standing some distance to the side, wearing armour heavy enough to bash a man with, the Clegane was here as a representative of House Lannister... Though, a significant number of Lannister soldiers were also present with each of the forces.

What with the Lannisport Raid and how, "A Lannister always repays his debts eh?" The Glover smiled widely, well, this would be one more battle to record.

-x-X-x-

Edric stared up at the riders standing over one of the ridges with a confident grin, his grip on the two weapons he held slightly tightening.

The crucifixion, while a way to show his stance towards Gods other than his own, had also been something of a battle tactic.

Looking at the unmoving men at the beach, it appeared that it had more than worked.

Numerous ironborn came down the ship, taking advantage of the confusion among the Reachmen to either behead or cut down the fair skinned soldiers that faced them. Each kill was something to be appreciated, these people did look down on them a lot after all.

Edric stabbed the sword in his hand into the ground and once more turned his gaze to the riders, he had less men than he would like but, it was an unavoidable consequence. While he may have killed off the Redwyne fleet sent his way, he had many injured under his command.. Too injured to continue fighting even if they so desired. Lord Blacktyde would not let them do so.

They had fought fiercely yet recklessly, that was the price to pay. A significant part of his forces was back at Orkmont, sailing back to Blacktyde Island with the rest of the ships.

"Pick up their pikes and spears!" He shouted out orders quickly, seeing the lords back off the ridge, clearly preparing to attack.

The ironborn obeyed his orders, some brought forth the spears they had taken from their previous battle while others picked up ones from the men they'd just put to death.

"Form up!" Edric shouted again,... The ironborn only answered with confused looks, not quite understanding what he was saying.

"Form a line you stupid cunts! Put up those spears! Drop the shields! When the horses get near, stab them through the necks!" The Blacktyde explained with a smile on his face, amused by how they quickly ran to obey his orders. He liked the ironborn, they were rather simple people.

With the sea behind them, the ironborn formed a wall of spears at the beach, a good few archers behind the first line so that they might shoot down as many as possible. The rough and hardy people would go down fighting right here.

"It's been good sailing with you lot! But we're gonna bloody die here!" Edric shouted with a grin plastered on his face, the Blacktyde Lord was clearly not afraid. One might say he was looking forward to it.... None dare to though, what man looks forward to death?

"You said that last time too, my lord!" One of the ironborn replied with a smile of his own, his hands and feet moving restlessly, his gaze fixed on the men forming up some distance to the front.

"I guess I did." Edric Blacktyde put his spear to front, one hand resting on a steel sword lodged in the sand.

-x-X-x-

At the Castle of Pyke, the outer walls had fallen and some of Balon Greyjoy's sons had died in the conflict.

None of that was important at the moment however, a deathly silence overtook the entire landscape. The forces of King Robert Baratheon made preparations to rush into the tall architectural marvel the ironborn called the seat of their king.

While not numerous, the king's forces greatly outnumbered the Greyjoy. The whole force had been divided into many regiments after all, one for each of the islands making up the Iron Islands. Sure the main force had been completely decimated but, the iron born people as a whole were a force. Holding them off was a great necessity if this was to succeed.

And then,

The one thing that would decide this battle happened.

Thoros of Myr, a young man from Volantis, a priest of the God of Light, walked up to the bridge, stumbling the whole way, reeking of alcohol and all kinds of drinks. He wiped his brown moustache and beard, loosely placing a hand on the hilt of his metal blade.

With loose steps and shaking arms, he drew the sword, almost falling to the side as he pointed it at the stone structure standing tall right ahead.

Thoros ran a hand over the blade and.... Under the watchful eyes of hundreds of men, of lords, of kings and commoners alike.

The sword caught fire.

And with burning sword in hand, "RAHHHHH!!" The priest charged past the bridge, shouting and waving his sword like a madman as he ran and ran.

All gathered there froze all but for a moment, and, "AFTER HIM!!"

They stormed the bridge after Thoros of Myr.

The ironborn stationed at the castle looked at him as if he were some god among men, recoiling in abject fear....

...True to the dismay of Lord Edric Blacktyde, the rule of Balon Greyjoy had made them weak and fearful.

-x-X-x-

Thundering steps and stomps echoed across the beach, large horses of all colours ran down a hill, rode by men in suits of armour, wielding swords and polearms, their roars were the only things that accompanied the booms of their mighty mounts.

"Ready!" Edric braced for impact, as did many with him, they were not many but they did not falter. They did not fear. They would die but they did not bend.

For they, were ironborn.

And just as those mighty and high knights in suits of armour, each a hero of their own books, followed and loved by men and women alike reached them.

"NOW!!"

The Blactyde Lord roared to his fellow men.

Spears were raised and shields were splintered. The mighty mounts were pierced through their very heads by spears their own masters saw built. The beasts roared and raged, as if dissatisfied with their fates, even as they lost their lives.

Of course there were exceptions.

In some places the lines were breached, men crushed under hooves.. However, their companions were quick to avenge them. If not those at the very front of the line, then those just behind speared the horses right through their skulls.

Edric himself was among those that had succeeded first, he yanked the beast aside and pulled out the spear, stabbing it into the neck of the knight that rode the creature right after. The one just behind was clearly thrown off by what had happened.

Seeing their companions thrown off their mounts, the second line of knights could do naught but pull on the beasts they rode, bringing them to a quick and disordered halt lest they stomp over their friends and brothers in arms.

"What is dead may never die!" Edric shouted with his spear raised, stabbing a knight that halted through his chest as ironborn and their enemies alike died around him.

"We are mighty! We are unbroken! We are ironborn and we will never abandon our ways!"

He quickly climbed up the horse of the man he'd just murdered, and turned his spear towards his own, banging on his bare chest even as fresh blood seeped from the many wounds on his body,

"And the fuck are these lot gonna do about it?!"

He spun around the same spear and pierced through the head of a man around him, then in a display of sheer raw strength, the body of the dead man was swung around to block any weapons headed towards himself and smashed into any approaching.

The ironborn reavers cheered and roared, greatly motivated by both his words and his actions, fighting like madmen. Caution and care was thrown to the wind, the sea people died by the tens but they took many with them as well. Steel clashed with steel and with flesh, the smell of blood and guts permeated the beach cum battlefield. Men fought and men died. The waves of water under them ran red from the blood.

At the same time, seeing a bloody man roar in defiance made the knights and soldiers feel unrest deep in their very beings. Something of this level.....they'd never seen it before.

Outnumbered two to one, the ironborn fought and fought.

"GRAHH!"

"Motherfucker!"

Of course all would not go Edric's way today.

The Blacktyde was thrown off the horse he'd just climbed by a man standing on the ground, his head the same level as a horse.

"A bloody.... mountain." Edric chuckled, clutching his heart... He had just been punched in the chest after all.

At the same time however, steel blotted out the grey skies.

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