Rodrick Lychester II/ Alleras Dayne II/Gwayne Yronwood I

A.N: Sorry, I know I said I would upload Friday or Saturday, but something came up. Keep in mind that today POV's doesn't happen simultaneously, so no questions about how quickly Dayne reached Sandstone, or about the happening of Yronwoods POV.

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-Rodrick Lychester II-

The heat was excruciating in Dorne, especially for someone like him who wore heavy armor.

But such is the plight of the sworn shield, it is his duty to stand vigil next to his liege, to protect him from any who may want to bring him harm, even though he often thought that he may not be needed.

They camped their troops behind a tall hill next to Wyl, the castle of the... you guessed it, the Wyls.

If there is one word that could describe that house, it would be cruelty.

Members of that house were raised like the ironborn, encouraged to commit horrible deeds, they were praised for torture, celebrated for raiding, and glorified for banditry.

To be honest, he was excited, the Wyls have one daughter, but she was married off to the Vaiths, and all remaining members were adults. This damned house could finally be extinguished.

"Hmm... Rodrick."

"Yes, your Grace."

"Did you inform the commanders to choose new captains for the new levies?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"And did you get the engineers to finish my request?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"People were apprehensive the first time I suggested an engineer unit for war, but they turned out to be very useful, didn't they?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"Hmm... Are you a pillow biter?"

"Yes, your Gra- Wait no!"

"Hahaha! I knew you were preoccupied with something else, what ails you, my friend ?"

"Nothing, your Grace. It is just that this Dorne, I heard many rumors about Dornish spearmen hiding inside caves and under the sand, so I am much more alert than usual."

"Hah! Rumors are rumors for a reason Rodrick, in previous wars, the dornish did hide in caves and wells and whatnot, but we already passed the caves and examined the wells. As for the sand? A human being staying underground in this heat? They would die before they hear the footsteps of their enemies.

Additionally, they do not know of our existence, so we have the element of surprise. They won't have the time to hide."

"I know your Grace, but I can't help it."

"Do not worry, I will be fine."

As they stood, observing the training infantry, one of the Prince's men at arms, wearing their signature purple mantle bowed in front of the Prince.

"Your Grace! We received the signal."

"Good news at last! Thank you Hother, you can go."

"Aye, your Grace!"

They immediately headed towards the command tent, where the Lords and their retinue stood over the map, making sure nothing was missed with their strategy.

As the Prince entered, the Lords bowed.

"Your Grace!"

"No need for formalities, I come bearing news. We received the signal, our men are inside the Keep and will attack the guards and open the gates at the sound of the horns. Tell the troops to get ready for battle.

But before that, let's go over the plan..."

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Rodrick stood at the head of the footmen, accompanied by Baelon's most proficient men at arms.

Usually, the cavalry is useless in terms of sieging a castle, so the infantry takes the vanguard and attempts to climb the walls and open the gates. But this is an unusual situation.

So the Heavy Knights of the Dondarrions and Tarlys are uncharacteristically taking the lead.

His Grace is absent, as he has his task to do.

A sudden roar sounded out from the vanguard, probably in response to a speech by Lord Tarly, the commander of the Knights.

Didn't the dumbass realize that this is supposed to be an ambush? He shouldn't have convinced the prince to choose him over Dondarrion, seriously, reachmen and their overinflated ego.

The sound of the horn echoed on the battlefield, startling the guards manning the walls.

Unfortunately for the poor souls, while they were looking dumbfoundedly at the charging cavalry, they had their throats slit from behind them, courtesy of our disguised troops.

The plan was to secretly let people into the keep disguised as merchants, bards, and whatnot. While it is certainly nowhere near the number of people necessary for any significant action, it is just enough for them to secretly kill the guards near the gate, and open the doors for hopefully enough time for the heavy cavalry to charge through and start doing their thing.

Some Lords suggested using his Grace's Dragon to burn the walls and destroy the gate, but Dornishmen are more than equipped enough for such a thing,

It was essential for their lords to just buy scorpions whenever they have enough gold for it, and the Wyls are very rich, courtesy of their constant raids and banditry.

Thankfully, and as usual, Baelon's plan worked perfectly, as the charging horsemen charged inside the castle, sowing chaos and very, very carefully trying to not hurt any unarmed man (The Prince threatened to feed anyone who tried to do anything to the smallfolk to Xyrax, the dragon's roar reeaaally reinforced the threat.), the infantry marched at the beat of the drums, unhurried and unbothered by the shouts and screams of the battle.

The standing host safely reached the gates, most of the archers were preoccupied with the cavalry that broke through. But the Wyls was not a small house, nor a mercantile one, so the knights were only doing so well currently due to the chaos and the lack of organization, and as the enemies become more organized, they will be able to take advantage of their superior position to choke them out.

"Alright listen up! Secure the walls, and make sure to keep the scorpions unmanned! And above all f$cking else, STAY ON FORMATION!"

""Aye!""

They climbed the stairs, and they saw their secret guards in a fierce struggle to keep the gate open. Rodrick will never forget how their faces lit up at the sight of reinforcements.

Their soldiers allowed the exhausted soldiers to pull back, He took to the front with their fellow men at arms.

He hefted his tower shield in front of himself while the others did the same, except that they also turned the enemies into porcupines with their spears.

He screamed orders after bashing a man's head with his mace.

"At my signal! PUSH!"

They took a step in, and more enemies died.

"PUSH!"

Again.

"PUSH!"

They slowly made their way through the curtain wall until they reached the nearest tower. After noticing that the whole side of the wall was taken by their soldiers, Rodrick handed command to someone else and went downstairs to join the place where the fighting was fiercest.

Lynchester was slow and steady, he steadfastly advanced on the enemy lines, he didn't defeat people as quickly as others, but he didn't leave any enemy behind him, and took way less damage than the others.

However, while their long spears and round shields gave the infantry an advantage in closed spaces, it wasn't the same in an open field, especially in such a chaotic battlefield, so they had no choice but slowly retreat into a more advantageous position.

And then an armored knight entered the field with a unit of crossbowmen, and they were effective.

Under the slow but steady barrage of arrows, their men were downed one after another. The situation was dire until they heard the deafening roar.

Xyrax, in the usual fashion, fell upon the gate like a meteor, causing the dirt and sand to cover their sights like smoke.

Then the screams came along with flashes of gold, and the dragon lowered its head right next to Rodrick.

The smoke cleared, and Lynchester was greeted with the sight of his liege sliding on his dragon's neck like a sled, landing next to its head.

"Rodrick, you okay?" Shouted the prince.

"Yes your grace, thanks to you! Did you accomplish your mission?!" He responded.

Baelon approached until he stood before him.

"Yes! All their ships are in flames, they have no way to escape."

"That's good news, my Prince."

"I know" He patted his shoulder. "You have my back?"

"Always."

"Good, I'm hungry for some black adders, BOYS! CHARGE!"

The response to the Prince's order was a deafening roar, and with a renewed sense of vigor, the soldiers fell upon their enemies like beasts, each soldier killing at least 3 before falling.

But none like the Prince, as Rodrick took his natural role of guardian, Baelon was free to gut whoever was in front of him like animals.

He moved with such a ferocity that emboldened his allies to no end, and his sword Blackfyre cut through so many enemies that it looked more red than black.

Meanwhile, Xyrax was slowly moving along them, using his flames with intelligence that belied his nature. He made sure to leave a way for them to advance, and his flames served as more than the weapons that they were but forced the enemies to move toward their raised shields and pointy spears instead of their open backs and vulnerable sides.

After who knows how many enemies dead, they found themselves at a clearing with a retinue of armored pikemen pointing toward them.

The flag showcasing a black adder biting someone's foot meant that Lord Wyl was behind the encirclement.

His liege stepped up, pointing his dripping sword at the enemies.

"Lord Wyl, are you so craven that you would hide behind guards like a coward?!"

A rough voice sounded amidst the pikemen.

"I would, if not for the F*CKING DRAGON THAT WOULD BURN MY ARSE!"

"Haha! Then you shall have one chance! A duel, between me and you!"

"And how could be sure of your honesty?! You can just order your beast to bathe us in flames!"

"No, you cannot! But what other chance do you have?!"

"..."

"Very well!"

The wall of pikes parted, allowing a sinister-looking man to step in. His hair had traces of grey hair, and he donned a necklace adorned with human teeth.

The man stood before the prince in pristine armor, his eyes arrogant and condescending. However, his face showed much hesitation as he saw the drenched figure of the prince, the blood of his enemies coloring his footsteps red.

"So you are the wonder prince, a babe whose balls didn't even drop thinking himself a conqueror."

"Are you stalling?" Asked Baelon, at Wyls surprised expression, he continued.

"You're stalling! Look at him, people! The mighty Wyl, trying to evade his destiny through meaningless words! I have no use for your speech, Wyl. Only your blood."

Baelon didn't give his opponent time to respond, as he charged towards him with a spectacular surge of speed.

Wyl, while initially surprised, raised his shield in preparation for the prince's attacks.

As the dornish lord reached the prince's range, he was rocked back by a formidable kick straight to his shield when he expected a slash from his opponent's sword.

Baelon latched on the opportunity, and simply cut Wyls stomach, Valyrian steel going through his armor with an inhuman shriek, and his guts spilling on the floor.

He swiped his sword in the air, causing the blood to splash on the floor.

"Well, that was disappointing. YOUR LORD IS DEAD, PEOPLE OF WYL! LAY DOWN YOUR SWORDS AND YOU SHALL BE LEFT ALONE."

Of course, the Dragon had to roar right at that moment.

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-Alleras Dayne II-

He stared impassively at the opening gates, seated on his steed, at the head of a formidable host of cavalry, most of them knights.

"Lord Dayne! I would welcome you, but you have a dozen cavalry on your back, so I would have an explanation first." Says a man with a scorpion adorned on his armor, Lord Qorgyle, it seems.

Dayne looked up, seeing scores of crossbowmen pointing their arrows at them, and soldiers manning the keep.

"You have armed your troops, good." Said Alleras.

"What is your meaning, my lord?" Responded the scorpion lord.

"We will need every man we can, a host came from the prince's pass, one too big to withstand by us alone."

"'Tis true? Lord Dayne? It seems that the happening in Wyl was not singular, we must prepare! Come, Lord Dayne. Excuse the absence of bread and salt, we were not expecting polite company."

"Wyl? What happened in Wyl." Said Alleras as he entered, his troops following behind him.

"The Targaryen Prince did! He lead a host of reachmen and stormlanders and took the castle Wyl to the sword, no male heir survives from that house." Responded a man standing next to the lord, sharing a lot of his features.

"Yes, my son speaks true, Prince Baelon of the Targaryens carried a surprise attack on the Wyls, he burned their ships and lead his army through the gates, he allowed some of the smallfolk to leave and send a message to the closest keep. We just received a raven today."

Alleras barely managed to mask his joy, this will require some celebration, but first, he has to finish his task.

"That is sad news, Lord Qorgyle."

"Yes, quite sad. But we have more important matters to discuss. What sort of army could force the noble Daynes to retreat so? And what are we to do about it."

Alleras let out a chuckle at that, these lords wouldn't see it coming.

"In truth, Lord Qorgyle, I did say that a host came from the Prince's pass, I just didn't say that it was ours."

Just as the shock registered on Qorgyle's face, Alleras unsheathed Dawn and cut off his head in a single slash.

Before any of the soldiers could respond, his men started putting to the sword any man who tried to fight back.

But amidst the chaos, Alleras' attention was on his accompanying lords, looking for something only he knew.

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The Prince's suspicions were right, as they always seemed to be.

They sat on the newly conquered hall of Sandstone, next to him were the Lords Dayne of High Hermitage, Fowler, and Manwoody. While the Lord of Blackmont knelt next to his son, both shackled by the guards around them.

"What is the meaning of this ?! Why was I dragged here by your creatures!" Screamed Lord Blackmont at Alleras.

"Yes, why indeed. Would you like to speak first, Lord Blackmont, or should I?" Responds Lord Dayne.

"What do you mean?!" Shouted and squirmed his son, only to be silenced by a piece of cloth, courtesy of one of the guards.

"Did you know, Lord Blackmont, that when I first met the prince, we had an interesting conversation about House words and sigils and their effect on the members of Lordly houses?"

Alleras received quizzical glances at his odd question, but he didn't give them any heed and continued anyways.

"After a while, we concluded that nobles often attempt to emulate their house's sigils, Lord Fowler here has a hawk as a sigil, known for their intelligence, independence, and such.

While House Manwoody has a skull adorned with a golden throne, a symbol for their ancestor's great deed of charging deep into enemy lines and killing the Gardner King of the time, ending a losing war.

The Daynes, be they of Starfall or High Hermitage, have stars on their sigils, with Starfall's being accompanied by a sword symbolizing our ancestral weapon, Dawn. So we aspire to be shining heroes, inspiring people and leading them to salvation.

But tell me, Lord Blackmont, what IS your sigil?" He asked.

Lord Blackmont's face paled as he realized his predicament, and an unheard stream of words went out of his mouth.

"We didn't hear you, Lord Blackmont." Continued Alleras.

"A-a, a black vulture with a pink infant in its claws, my Lord." He finally spewed out.

"For some reason, this does seem to reinforce our point, doesn't it? His grace should have quite an interesting reaction. Lord Blackmont! Yesterday, you tried to send a messenger in secret, this messenger was heading South, which means that you were meant to endanger our cause and our lives.

Furthermore, your son and your men at arms blatantly ignored mine and the Prince's order to not lay hands on any man or woman that didn't wield a weapon.

How do you plead?"

"Those are baseless accusations, my Lord! We did no such thing."

Alleras slammed his fist on the table, startling the Lord.

"The authenticity of these claims is NOT to be questioned! The question asked to you, Lord Blackmont is HOW DO YOU PLEAD! THE BLACK, OR THE SWORD?"

"I-I-"

Before Lord Blackmont could respond, his son managed to steal a dagger from one of the guards and slit his throat, but his attempt at retaliation was futile, as he received a spear to the back in exchange.

Looking at his son's corpse, the Lord seemed to lose all reason, as he screamed and thrashed again his hold, struggling to do something, anything! To avenge his son.

It feels quite strange, to see such evil men care for another so deeply, Alleras mused.

"The sword it is."

But it won't be enough to change his convictions.

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Gwayne Yronwood I

He sat on his makeshift throne in the main hall of the keep. The court was always a dreadful affair, but a necessary one. Gwayne thought.

"The laws dictate that...." The maester droned about some unknown law concerning the theft of sheep, as even the convicted man seemed to lose a handle on his wits.

His boredom was interrupted, however, by the sudden opening of the doors, as a ragged man barged into his hall despite the attempts of the guards to stop him from doing so.

"Milord! Milord! The Wyl is lost! The Wyl is lost!"

He bid the guards to stop with a gesture as he registered the man's words.

"What do you mean the Wyl is lost? Take a breath and speak!" He ordered.

One of the courtiers handed the man a flask of water, which the man drank greedily. And after collecting himself, he began to speak.

"Milord! An army took the Wyl! The castle has been besieged by an army of reachmen and stormlanders! They also had infantry, armored with fine steel and purple mantles. A-and, and the dragon! There was a purple dragon too, it burned our ships and killed our people!"

""What!""

"Yes! There was a prince! He took the castle, but he let us leave! So I left! I came as soon as possible, milord!"

"I need details, now!" He said.

And then he heard details, of how they managed to open the doors from inside, and how they used the dragon to stop them from escaping through the sea, about their numbers, equipment, and discipline, and he felt fear creep up to him, fear of loss, of dragons, and the unknown.

But he also felt excitement! This could be his chance! The Martells will surely leave him to be, alone. They will hope for him to win, but at a great cost, or lose, but weaken the enemy.

But if he won, and if he still has enough forces left, he could use the reputation and glory gained from winning against their enemy to win the neutral house on his side, and get the power necessary to regain his rightful seat, as the King of Dorne.

"Maester, send a raven. We shall call the banners.