Next Course of Action!

The previous night, Ser Wylis, Ser Ormond, Lady Maege, Ser Wendel, and Damian convened for a crucial meeting to discuss their next steps. With Lord Stark's orders echoing in their minds, their objective was clear: having secured Blacktyde Castle, they now set their sights on Orkmont Island, intent on bringing it firmly under their control. Damian was tasked to inform Lord Stark about their victory and their next steps for Orkmont Island.

The previous night, Ser Wylis, Ser Ormond, Lady Maege, Ser Wendel, and Damian had gathered for an important meeting. They discussed their next steps following Lord Stark's orders. Their main objective was clear: having successfully taken control of Blacktyde Castle, their focus now shifted to Orkmont Island.

They were determined to bring the island under their control as soon as possible.

"I have Donnel Drumm as a hostage. I can use his captivity as leverage to compel the remaining Ironborn forces on Orkmont to surrender swiftly," Damian had declared, his voice brimming with confidence. "Once they have yielded, I will make my way back to join you at Orkmont in time for the commencement of our attack."

"A sound plan," Ser Wylis nodded approvingly, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of admiration for Damian's tactical acumen. "By securing a hostage, we can save precious time and potentially avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

Lady Maege, her stern expression softening slightly, chimed in, "Aye, if we can break their spirit without shedding more Northmen's blood, we must seize that opportunity."

Ser Ormond, ever the cautious one, offered a word of caution, "We must ensure the safety of our hostage and maintain a watchful eye. The Ironborn are known for their cunning and treachery."

Damian nodded, fully aware of the risks involved. "Rest assured, I will take all necessary precautions to safeguard Donnel Drumm while utilizing his presence to secure our objectives."

"It would be wise to bolster Damian's forces to ensure his safety," Ser Wendel suggested, recognizing the importance of reinforcing their ranks after the losses suffered in the recent battle.

"If Damian agrees then I can go with him. I have some fifty warriors under my command." Lady Dacey said. Upon hearing Lady Dacey's volunteer, he acknowledged her offer with a nod, grateful for the support of Bear Island's skilled warriors.

Ser Wylis, displaying his strategic acumen, stepped forward and offered additional manpower from his own house. "Excellent," he declared. "I will provide you with sixty men-at-arms from my own forces."

Damian accepted their assistance graciously, understanding the value of having a larger contingent at his side. While he possessed the means to summon new soldiers to replenish his ranks, it would be unwise to do so now in the middle of the battle where he can't explain their origins. Moreover, there was a cooldown period before he could summon fresh warriors to replace those lost in battle.

With the added support from Lady Dacey's forces and the men-at-arms provided by Ser Wylis, Damian's confidence soared. He knew that their combined strength would be sufficient to overcome any obstacles that he might face ahead.

"Very well, with this reinforcement, we should have ample force to face any difficulties that may arise," Ser Wylis affirmed. "The decision is made. Lady Dacey and Damian shall journey to Old Wyk and compel the Ironborn to submit."

With a shared understanding, the group continued to discuss the logistics and finer details of their plan, ensuring every aspect was carefully considered.

The final decision was reached with unwavering resolve. At first light tomorrow, the Northern army would set sail for Orkmont, their sights firmly fixed on conquering the island and bringing it under their control. Simultaneously, Damian would lead his own men on a daring expedition to attack Old Wyk, determined to compel the Ironborn there to surrender and submit to the might of the North and the Seven Kingdom.

Damian was asked to take another task of informing Lord Stark about their victory and their plans for Orkmont Island and Old Wyk.

Understanding the capabilities of Damian's remarkable pet falcon, Ser Wylis, Ser Ormond, Lady Maege, and Ser Wendel collectively approached Damian with the suggestion. They were already aware of the falcon's intelligence, incredible speed, and ability to locate Lord Stark with precision.

Recognizing the value and efficiency of utilizing the falcon for delivering the missive, better than the raven, they proposed the idea to Damian.

Knowing that his companions were well-informed about his companion's abilities, Damian readily agreed to their suggestion, appreciating their insight and trust in his falcon. Thus, Damian accepted the task of entrusting his intelligent and swift falcon, Ace, with the vital missive to deliver it to Lord Stark without any hindrance.

. . .

Outside the walls of Banefort Castle in the Westerland, a sprawling camp stretched across the landscape, bustling with activity. The air was thick with the sounds of clanging armour, the shuffling of feet, and the murmurs of soldiers. Tents of various sizes and shapes dotted the camp, each representing a different house or faction.

Yet, amidst the sea of tents, one structure stood out prominently. It was a grand and opulent tent, larger than the rest, commanding attention with its exquisite design and vibrant banners fluttering in the wind. This tent served as the centrepiece of the camp, serving as a hub for strategic discussions and the gathering of esteemed figures.

Inside, the tent was adorned with luxurious tapestries depicting noble sigils and scenes of valorous battles of the past. Fine rugs covered the ground, muffling the sounds of footsteps. The air was perfumed with the scent of incense, creating an atmosphere of grandeur and importance.

Tables adorned with intricate maps and meticulously arranged military plans filled the grand tent. At the head of the largest table, an imposing figure sat with regal authority. Clad in resplendent armour that seemed to amplify his formidable presence, a crown resting atop his brow, it was none other than King Robert Baratheon, the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

To his right, an esteemed companion and loyal friend, Lord Stark, took his place. Lord Stark, renowned for his honour and unwavering loyalty, sat straight.

Robert Baratheon, his voice filled with a hearty chuckle, leaned back in his seat as he addressed Lord Stark. "With the Ironfleet broken at the strait of Fair Isle, the squids have already lost the war. Their rebellion is nothing more than a flickering flame, destined to be snuffed out."

Lord Stark, ever vigilant and cautious, nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Your Grace. While their defeat seems inevitable, we must not underestimate their resourcefulness. Desperation can drive men to make unpredictable moves, and we must be prepared for any unexpected twists in this conflict."

Robert's voice dripped with disdain as he dismissed any notion of the Ironborn posing a significant threat. "Twists? I don't think those squids can do shit now," he declared, his words laced with contempt.

Just as their conversation continued, a man dressed in the colors of House Stark entered the tent, making his way towards Lord Stark. It was Ser Rodrick Cassel, Eddard's loyal Master-at-Arms, who approached his liege lord with an air of urgency.

Eddard, ever attentive to his trusted advisor, turned his attention to Ser Rodrick. "What is it, Ser Rodrick?" he inquired, his tone reflecting both curiosity and readiness to address any new development.

Ser Rodrick's voice carried a hint of urgency as he relayed the news. "A letter, bearing the sigil of House Manderly, was just delivered by 'the Falcon', my lord," he informed, handing the unopened letter to Eddard.

"Falcon? Jon?" Robert's brows furrowed in confusion as he sought clarification. The mention of a falcon had sparked his curiosity, perhaps thinking it was a reference to his dear friend and Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn.

Eddard, understanding the source of Robert's confusion, offered an explanation. "No, Robert, it's not Jon. It's a bird—a majestic creature my brother has managed to tame," he clarified, hoping to dispel any misconceptions.

Eddard's gaze fell upon the letter, its unbroken seal representing a message of importance. He accepted it with a measured expression, recognizing the significance of the communication.

"It seems that Damian has sent word of their victory at Blacktyde Castle and outlined their plans for Orkmont and Old Wyk," Eddard informed Robert, his voice carrying a sense of relief. The letter, while not bearing urgent news, held valuable updates regarding their progress. He handed the letter to Robert.

As Robert took in the contents of the letter, a genuine smile graced his face, and he turned to address his loyal Kingsguard, Ser Barristan, who stood dutifully behind him.

"It appears, Ser Barristan, that you won't be needed at Old Wyk," Robert remarked. The news of the Northern Army's victory and their progressing plans had rendered any immediate action on Ser Barristan's part unnecessary. He was tasked to make Old Wyk surrender.

Ser Barristan, ever the loyal knight, nodded in understanding. "It does seem like that, Your Grace," he replied with a smile. No matter his presence would be better utilized elsewhere.

"I need to write a letter in return and inform my brother and bannermen about the Royal fleet victory and our future course of action. By your leave, your grace" Lord Stark said.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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