Chapter 22

The evening before we reached Dyre Den, as we were setting up camp and organizing sentries and pickets, something I had been expecting since Robert died happened. In the dusk sky blazed a red comet. Magic was going to return to the world now. . .at least native magic anyway, pretty sure my gamer power didn't count the same way. As my commanders pointed up to the sky and the soldiers milled about gawking, I took a swig of the weak ale we drank while on the march and said, "Well this might make things difficult."

That was an understatement as I suddenly received a pop up.

The Red Comet has appeared, you have survived the Prologue! Congratulations! As an effect of the comet, magic has begun to return to the native reality of Planetos. In addition to the appearance of Dragons, Others, and magical beasts such as Squishers and Shrykes that will begin to pop up, all westerosi nobles will begin to experience power increases as the magic in their blood begins to awaken. In addition, local magical traditions such as Rhoynish River magic, Qartheen Warlocks, Faceless Men infiltrators, and more will begin to experience a renaissance! Beware, for the way ahead is dark and full of terrors!

"Well Shit." I muttered.

XXXX

The next afternoon Dyre Den was in sight. It was a proper castle like the Whispers, but smaller and with three crooked towers. It was, however, set in a low valley with natural terrain guarding it's sides and back. I wouldn't be surprised if there were tunnels or mines carved into the cliffsides that flanked the castle. Below it spread a small town, guarded by a palisade. Out in front of the palisade, in a wide open area were many tents and men in boiled leather or padded jacks milling about as officers in chain and plate and serjeants in coats of plates tried to bully them into some semblance of ranks. Green levies then, mostly spearmen and archers, but some with felling axes or threshing flails or an assortment of motley weapons more suited for use as tools of a trade than weapons for battle. A typical feudal levy then. I could see their flanks being guarded by men in chainmail and wielding swords and shields, it seemed Lord Brune was forming his center of levies and keeping his more hardened men-at-arms on the Flanks. It almost seemed as if he were trying to pull a Cannae on me.

A mental count of the enemy's numbers put them close to 6,000 Troops, it seemed the remaining 4,000 that the Brunes could call upon were still in transit. This was good, as we had the advantage of numbers for this battle at least. I could see Lord Brune's personal standard and if I squinted I could make out the white beard of old Lord Eustace Brune and the stocky frames of his grandsons and sons next to him amongst the men at arms. Lord Brune and his family had apparently decided to make their stand with their army instead of behind the walls. A poor decision as I was about to utterly wreck his army. I would bet my lordship that Ser Bennard Brune, Lord of Brownhollow was sitting pretty behind his walls right now, rather than coming with the troops he had sent to reinforce the Brune Army. . .friendliness with a coward like Baelish tends to breed caution in a man, after all. Still, Brownhollow would not nearly be as much of a bitch to siege as Dyre Den would be, and so I thanked the Drowned God, the Seven, the Old Gods, and whoever else might be listening that Lord Eustace was an old fool with more courage than sense.

"Alright lads! form column! Ser Waters! take the cavalry and form a wedge, get ready to follow us in as soon as we pierce their center! Just like we practiced lads! At the quick march! Forward!" I shouted, ordering a full attack on their weak, green center. The cavalry would follow us in a wedge formation and widen the gap and then we'd encircle the left wing of men at arms, where Lord Eustace and his family were commanding from. The cavalry would wheel right and cut down the right wing and we'd have a victory, or at least that was the plan I had hashed out earlier.

The pipers began to play Highland Laddie and the column moved forward to the beat of pipes and drums. As we neared ever closer to the center I could see from my position ensconced in the column that the front rank of levies were poorly formed up with the odd gap in formation here and there born out of lack of practice. These troops must have only drilled a few times before we had arrived for battle. It was almost enough to get me to pity the poor bastards. . .almost.

Soon a scattered rain of arrows from the levy archers in the rear ranks fell upon us, however I had made sure that the Front and center of my column was made up of my well armored professionals and the Volley did not reach the rear ranks of more lightly armored militia much. A few militia spearmen in the rear ranks went down to arrows piercing their coats of plates, but my pikemen were armored in 3/4ths plate and the forest of pikes themselves did much to deflect falling arrows, too few of my pikemen fell to the volleys as we closed and only marginally more of my crossbowmen fell. We advanced like a thunderbolt, aiming true for their lines despite the arrow shower sent our way.

Soon we were in range for our crossbowmen to start letting of shots, augmented by militia archers in the rear ranks. Bolts penetrated even plate armor at times and the light armor of the levies was much less resistant than plate. A volley of crossbow bolts punched into the front ranks of the enemy center, scything down levy troops, while our militia archers fired volley into the enemy archers, keeping them suppressed and rattling them.

"Charge your pikes!" I cried as my pikemen leveled their primary armament at the now weakened center.

When we were within 20 meters of the enemy center's front ranks I shouted "Alright lads! lets kick their bloody heads in! Charge!" A roar went up and the last 20 meters were eaten up at a run in what would be called a Swiss Charge back on earth. The ill trained, lightly armored enemy stood firm for all of 10 seconds as we slammed into them and then immediately began to be slaughtered. Their spears and weapons unable to match the reach of our pikes, they died in droves. To their credit they resisted breaking until we had punched a hole through their line. The cavalry wedge that followed on however was too much for them and they broke, serjeants and officers swearing at them to get back into line were bowled over by frantic peasants who had not signed up to be slaughtered and trampled.

With their center disintegrating, we turned to envelop the left wing, pikemen bore down on Lord Eustace's men at arms from all sides while crossbow bolts punched into mailed torsos and volley fire from militia archers fell on them like rain. I saw one of Lord Eustace's Grandsons go down to a crossbow bolt through the eye, another was stabbed by three militia spearmen at once. Two more attempted to rally the flagging men at arms but were cut down by swords, the pikemen who wielded them having broken their primary armament in the first 30 minutes of battle. A halberdier took the right arm from Lord Eustace's younger son, and I had personally taken his heir with a Power Strike than split him open from shoulder to hip. House Brune of Dyre Den would not survive this battle.

It seemed that Lord Eustace knew this and struck his colors soon after, begging mercy. I had him brought before me.

"So, Lord Eustace. It seems your decision to back Joffrey has led to the extinguishing of your line, unless you believe yourself capable of producing an heir at your advanced age?" I said Conversationally.

"King Joffrey will avenge House Brune, even if I have not the strength left to fight." spat the old man.

"My word, Lord Eustace, have you gone senile in your old age, Joffrey is not the rightful king. I ask you as a man who has seen king Robert, and seen Jaime Lannister. Don't you think at least one of the royal children would take after their father in any way at all? They all have Lannister hair, Lannister eyes, even Lannister features. Speaking as someone who's met one of Robert's bastards, Gendry Waters looks much more like a Baratheon than Joffrey or Tommen. Stannis also has genealogical evidence to back his claim, did you know that their have been four marriages between Baratheon and Lannister in the past, and out of all of them, none of the children had Lannister hair or Lannister eyes? You've a working knowledge of horseflesh, tell me, does that seem possible from an ancestral standpoint, that Robert's children are truly his own?" I replied.

Lord Eustace's face had grown from red with rage to ashen over the course of my explanation. "If that's true, then. . ."

"Then you doomed your house by rebelling against the rightful king yes. As such, I'm afraid King Stannis is going to attaint you for this. Even if your younger son survives the severed arm, he won't inherit." I replied, twisting the knife a little deeper. I hated to do it, but the man on the opposing end of this conflict from Stannis was Tywin Lannister, I needed to gain a reputation as a ruthless commander fast if I wanted a chance at getting into his head.

Lord Eustace slumped, all the fight leaving him. "Then I suppose Dyre Den is Yours, do with me what you will, I care not anymore."

Victory I suppose. . .however foul it tasted. . .

XXXX

I will be putting gains from battles and such in posts after said battle.

For the Battle of Dyre Den the SI Gained,

+1 Level

+2 STR

+3 VIT

+1 DEX

+1 INT

+1 LUK

+2 Levels of Power Strike

+2 Levels of Logistics

+2 Levels of Battlefield precog

+1 Level of Mordschlag

He Currently has 10 stat points to spend