Burning of the fleet

It didn't take long to reach Lannisport, even if the roads were crowded with people escaping the city. Having more than a thousand men charging right towards you had the effect of compelling you to move out of the way. The men with me were smaller in number than expected, father didn't want to leave the Rock vulnerable by displacing men. All 300 of my guards were with me, on top of another 800 or so mounted soldiers, we were also picking up a few men along the way.

Speaking of father, he decided to stay at the Rock, leaving the defence of Lannisport in the hands of its Lord, uncle Kevan. Doing so didn't make him a coward, caution is a sign of intelligence and it would be foolish to put so many eggs in the same basket. Lannisport might be the jewel of the west, but it was Casterly Rock that held the most importance, my ancestral home was the sign of my families strength and it was not worth losing it over a city that could be rebuilt.

The northern most gate of the city led into the industrial district, fortunately for us, the population of this side of the city was the lowest, decreasing the chances of us getting swamped by civilians. The harbour wasn't too far from where we were either and the distinct sounds of fighting were not present, though it may be covered up by the ringing of bells and screaming people.

I wasn't sure if bringing so many soldiers would even be necessary. I know that the Greyjoys had burnt the Lannister fleet, but I wasn't sure whether they decided to attack the city itself or not. Even so, I had the sea defences of Lannisport bolstered since the turn of the last year. Large, heavily fortified towers now stood erected on either side of the harbour entrance, hoisted between them was a steel boom, a thick chain that acted as a barrier against ships entering the harbour. If fortune was in my favour, then they should still be stuck there getting shot at like fish in a barrel, though the chain is not impenetrable and can be destroyed or circumnavigated.

"Should we split up?, we could be of better use in more places than one." Monty says from beside me, I look at him by my side, "No, I want to have a better look at what's going on, assess the situation and from there decide what to do." Monty was in the yard when we were getting ready to leave, practising his archery, he had no hesitation in coming with me.

As we got nearer to the harbour, the thick stench of smoke announced its presence, we couldn't see the source, mainly due to the tall buildings that surrounded the street. I go to grab a knight who runs past, bearing the sigil of nine golden lions on a red field, House Lannett, a cadet branch of House Lannister.

"My Lord!" The knight shouts, startled at my appearance. I make note of his soot-covered armour and the speckles of blood that have dried on his face, "What's the situation?" I demand of him.

"Th-they breached the harbour and have landed near the southern side. Lord Kevan is holding them at bay from pillaging further into the city, but they have free reign of the harbour." He tells me, looking slightly dazed as he does.

"How did they breach and how many have managed to land at the harbour." I ask him, I didn't want to rush into a situation blindly. The knight answers, "We managed to hold them at the boom chain for a while, set a couple of their long ships on fire, but they managed to scale one of the towers and loosen the chain. I don't know how many got through but the long ships number in the dozens." he looks weary as he says that final sentence.

The average long ship could hold 30 men if not more, a dozen would mean 360 men. Whilst the city guard could match up in terms of numbers, they weren't trained enough to repel army, at least without incurring significant losses. The Ironborn are a hardy folk whose main profession is raiding and fighting, they are bound to be skilled and dangerous.

"I want you to follow behind us, we are going to need every man we can get." I tell him, the knight adopts an uneasy expression but nods his head slowly. I mount my horse and turn around to my men, "I want lancers in front, we'll ride down the harbour and cleave a path to my uncle, try not to lose your momentum and keep moving."

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𝗧𝗼𝗺 𝗖𝗼𝗱𝗱

He laughed as he lodged his axe in his opponent's neck, it would've separated his head from his body if not for his spine. He loved this, raiding, reaving or just killing in general. There's a kind of power that comes from seeing the defenceless flee in terror at the sight of him and he relished in it.

He tried to pull his axe out, but seeing as it would not budge, he left it and picked up the sword; the one dropped the man he just killed. He had paid the iron price for it. He turned around to his men, "Head further up the docks, we'll loop around and flank them from another street." Tom shouts. The crew of the Lamentation, his ship, reciprocated his shout, chanting his moniker 'Bloodless'.

His nickname came from the fact that he had pale skin, a likeness to milk. As expected, he got some ribbing and was at the end of quite a few japes, mocking him. Those soon ended when the last person who described him as a woman had his head pummelled in, resembling more a ball of flesh than a face.

Tom's blood felt like fire in his veins. The Cleftjaw had given him this task, if he was to prove himself to not only him, but Victarion as well... there was more than enough glory in it to cement himself in a position of power within the Iron Fleet. Fortunately for him, the thick of the fighting was behind him and only those thick in the head stayed to fight him and they were limited in number.

"Keep on going, forget about the women, we can have our fair share once we deal with the Lannisters." Tom tells his men, raids like this were good opportunities for getting a salt wife or two, from what he had seen the women from Lannisport were more fair and appealing to the eye than those from most places.

"Rodd, take up the left side, I want you to..." Tom falls silent as a low, thundering sound gets louder and louder, it didn't take long to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. Looking further down the harbour, Tom spotted a wall of cavalry charging straight towards him. "EVERYONE, GET READY." he says as he directs the attention of his men towards the mounted soldiers.

His men formed a wall, aiming to stop the cavalry's momentum as best they could. He couldn't have them get past him and hit the rest of the Ironborn from behind, not at such a critical moment. The Ironborn were inexperienced when it came to countering cavalry, a life on the sea and with how fast raids were conducted meant there was never a need to know how to.

As the horses neared, Tom shouts out, "READY", to his men. When the mounted soldiers got within a suitable range, they lowered their lances and most, if not all the Ironborn in the front row got skewered. Tom sidesteps out of the way, managing to avoid both lances to either side as the horses pass him and trample over his men. Tom turns back around to face the direction the cavalry came from and the only thing he saw was a giant of a man, atop a large warhorse, swinging his sword down in a wide arc before his head was separated from his body and the only thing he saw was darkness.