Strangling the pirates

In case anyone is interested, I decided to write a story to distract me from the research I do for some chapters of this fanfic, it's called Industrial Baron in Caesar's Legion, it's more violent because there is no need to keep up appearances.

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Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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-Pov of Wilhelm Von Hohenzollern tenth moon 288 AC

The fact that Lothar had almost killed the Mountain with a single blow to the chest would have normally been reason enough to send him back into exile. In other times, his unchecked brutality would have demanded an immediate response. But now, I no longer had the need to play the jester for the lords of the Seven Kingdoms, who had always seen my prudence as a sign of weakness.

Lothar's act had filled the room with fear—the purest kind of fear. One only needed to look at the pale faces of the nobles to understand the terror that had overtaken them. No one expected that someone, no matter how strong, could reduce Gregor Clegane with a single move, breaking his ribs as if he were a mere doll. The Mountain, that colossus feared throughout Westeros, known for his immense size and crushing strength, was no match for Lothar's herculean power.

Lothar's overwhelming strength, that fanatic from House Ruppin, had transformed what everyone in the room thought they knew about power. His violence, so sudden and fierce, had served as an undeniable demonstration that it was no longer wise to underestimate either my followers or me. The nobles, who had once held themselves with arrogance, now looked at me with a mixture of fear and respect.

But the most important matter was the approaching winter. While the Seven Kingdoms prepared for the inevitable, knowing that famine would strike more than one of their territories, I held the advantage. My granaries were full, the harvests safely stored. While parts of the Seven Kingdoms starved, we would watch from our fortresses, feasting, holding one of the grandest celebrations ever seen.

I had no intention of letting a single grain leave The Reach until the scarcity in Westeros was so deep that its price reached unimaginable heights. Only when hunger bent them, when each grain was worth its weight in gold, would I open my warehouses and allow trade to flow again.

They would be forced to come to me, begging for bread for their lands, pleading for the mercy they once scorned. Then, and only then, would the true balance of power fall into my hands. I would control their tables, their people, their future.

But for now, there was one last piece on the board that I needed to remove: the Ironborn. Johann had managed to destroy their fleet with minimal ship losses, as expected. The Ironborn's ships, as agile as they were, couldn't compete with the resilience of our much larger, more robust hulls. Their capacity to destroy our vessels was limited, but that didn't mean the victory had been easy.

Though material losses were minimal, the true battle was fought hand-to-hand, ship by ship. The blood of our own mixed with that of the pirates in the turbulent seas. Many lives were sacrificed, many men would bear the scars of the encounter. But those fallen would not be forgotten. They would be honored as heroes, and their names written in the annals of history as those who gave their lives to finally end the pirate threat.

Every fallen warrior, every man who shed his blood in that battle, would receive the honors they deserved. I would not let their sacrifices be in vain. The Ironborn, who for generations had ravaged the coasts of Westeros, would meet their end. The islands that had once been a refuge for raiders and murderers would be reduced to rubble and ash.

The victory at sea now paved the way for us to invade the Iron Islands and eliminate them completely. There would be no truce, no mercy. The pirates who had survived would not live to see another day of raiding. Now, with the seas under our control and the morale of my men raised by victory, I was ready to deliver the final blow.

With no significant resistance, we could carefully choose which islands to take first. The pirate fleet had been shattered, and much of the manpower the Ironborn could muster was dead or fleeing, rowing for their lives. Now, with the seas firmly in our grasp, we had absolute strategic superiority. We could take our time, besieging castle after castle, with no need to rush.

The situation allowed us to be meticulous. We not only had the strength and resources, but we could also starve them out. The Iron Islands couldn't sustain themselves; they relied on raiding and the sea for survival. With our forces blockading their shores, they would have no access to supplies, and without their fleet, trade was cut off. We could simply wait, encircling their fortresses, and watch as desperation took hold while their resources ran dry.

The best part was, there was no urgency. With our stockpiles full, we could keep the entire army mobilized for more than three years if necessary, even if the winter lasted that long. While other lords would suffer from the cold and famine, we would be comfortably supplied, waging war at our own pace.

Harlaw and Great Wyk, according to reports from merchants and spies we had deployed in the area, were the richest and most densely populated of the Iron Islands. We knew that much of the iron they used to forge their weapons, as well as the men who fueled their war efforts, came from these two islands. Taking them would strike the hardest blow to the backbone of the Ironborn.

With the enemy fleet destroyed, our forces could deploy without opposition on the coasts of these islands. Unlike the quick and brutal raids the Ironborn were known for, our attack would be methodical. Every castle and fortress we encountered would be surrounded, isolated, and besieged until there was no choice but to surrender or perish.

In the days that followed, I fully immersed myself in my role as commander-in-chief of the army, overseeing every detail of the logistics required for the naval invasion. It was a massive operation that required meticulous planning. The Iron Islands wouldn't be conquered through simple raids; this was a prolonged siege, and everything had to be in place before launching the first attack.

I gathered the necessary supplies to keep our troops well-fed and well-armed. Unlike the Ironborn, who relied on plundering to survive, we would arrive prepared. There would be no margin for error; every man, every ship, every piece of equipment had to be ready before the Prussian army set foot on those islands.

The galleons and galleys were loaded with provisions, weapons, and ammunition. Catapults, scorpions, and other siege engines began to be assembled, ready to be transported to the beaches of Harlaw and Great Wyk. We knew the castles on these islands wouldn't fall easily, but our Prussian engineers, the best in the world, were prepared to overcome any wall the pirates could erect.

Every night, I personally reviewed the landing plans. The Prussian forces needed to act with precision. Troops would land first on the shores of Harlaw, establishing secure beachheads before advancing inland. Fortifications would be surrounded and besieged, and if necessary, razed. We knew the Ironborn were tough, but our logistical superiority, along with our greater numbers and advanced equipment, gave us the upper hand.

When everything was ready and our fleet arrived at Lannisport, the time for the invasion had finally come. At first light the next day, nearly eighty thousand men began boarding the warships, myself included. It was a monumental show of force, a demonstration of Prussian power in foreign lands.

Lannisport's harbor was bustling with activity; men lined up in orderly ranks as they boarded the waiting galleons and galleys. The quartermasters, who remained on land, continued with the crucial task of organizing the supply chain that would ensure our troops remained well-provisioned in the Iron Islands. We knew that a campaign of this magnitude required flawless logistics.

The ships, laden with men, began to slowly move out of the harbor. The sea, once a source of fear due to the pirates, was now our domain. The sails unfurled, the masts creaked under the pressure of the wind, and soon, the entire fleet sailed toward the horizon, leaving Lannisport and the mainland behind.

On deck, I could see warriors inspecting their weapons, mentally preparing for the battle ahead. Some whispered prayers under their breath, while others kept their gaze fixed on the horizon, a cold determination in their eyes.

"My king, the wargs have sighted Ironborn ships near Pyke. It seems they believe we are headed for a direct confrontation," said Karl von Rugen, his voice steady but tinged with anticipation.

"How many ships have they spotted?" I asked, keeping my tone calm.

"Approximately eighty longships, my king. They're waiting near Pyke, probably thinking we'll attempt a frontal assault," Karl responded.

"Let them think that, Karl. It's in our favor for them to believe we're going straight for Pyke. We won't fall into their trap." I turned toward the map laid out in front of me, pointing to Harlaw and Great Wyk. "The true objective remains Harlaw and Great Wyk. If we destroy their ability to supply themselves, it won't matter how many ships they have left. They will either surrender or starve."

Karl von Rugen nodded, understanding the strategy. While the Ironborn focused on Pyke, the heart of their resistance, we would target their logistics and cut off their supply lines.

"Deploy the fleet, but keep the galleys equipped with Greek fire and scorpions in reserve. Let the longships believe we're looking for a fight," I said, staring out at the sea.

"At your command, my king. We'll mobilize the ships that aren't carrying troops," Karl von Rugen responded with his usual efficiency.

Shortly after, many of our galleys began to move swiftly, pretending to chase the Ironborn. As expected, they began to retreat, trying to lure us into an area where they could ambush us or where the waters were less favorable for our larger ships. But we didn't fall for their ploy. We knew their tactic was to force close combat, where they believed they could outmatch us.

The Prussian fleet continued its advance, steady and resolute. We approached the key islands with military precision, avoiding the Ironborn's provocations. Finally, after hours of strategic navigation, we reached the agreed-upon point. This was where we would divide, each group with a clear mission: to take Harlaw and Great Wyk as quickly as possible while keeping our flanks secure.

The ships carrying troops began to disperse toward their respective targets, each led by experienced officers who knew there was no room for error. Great Wyk, with its numerous fortresses and castles, would be a greater challenge, but we knew that its fall would be a mortal blow to the pirate resistance. Harlaw, on the other hand, was the economic and productive hub, and its capture would spell the end of any Ironborn ability to rebuild their war power.

All of my group's strength landed on Pebbleton, a small coastal village on Great Wyk, one of our first strategic objectives. Dozens of small rowing boats, carefully prepared for this type of operation, landed thousands of Prussian soldiers on the natural harbor that the village provided. The waves gently crashed against the rocks as our troops, in disciplined formation, advanced with military precision onto the shore.

The weak Ironborn resistance, clearly unprepared for a landing of this magnitude, was quickly overwhelmed. Only a few warriors attempted to stand against our forces, but the Prussian onslaught was unstoppable. The first clash lasted less time than expected; most of the defenders fell before they could even organize a meaningful defense. Pebbleton, once a peaceful place, was soon stained red.

The cries of the Ironborn echoed through the air, but they were swiftly silenced by Prussian steel. Swords and spears did their work with brutal efficiency, cutting down the defenders without mercy. In a matter of minutes, the few barricades they had erected were torn down, and any attempt at resistance was crushed without pity.

The port and village were now in our hands. Troops quickly spread through the streets, securing every corner and every house.

"Let the men rest only as needed," I ordered, gazing out toward the horizon, already knowing the next step would be to push inland and take the larger fortresses. "The enemy is weak here, but we must not underestimate them."

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Give me your power stones

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Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

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I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.

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