Chapter 35 Fighting Ironborn raiders

In the heart of this epic clash, the Ironborn, a people renowned for their fierceness in battle and unwavering devotion to their sacred freedoms, confronted the resolute North. The Ironborn had earned their infamous moniker as the "wolves of the sea," sailing in menacing packs with their longships, instilling terror in the hearts of all who crossed their path.

Vlad and Theon stood side by side, gazing out over the turbulent ocean, their expressions grim. Over the past month, there had been numerous ironborn raids along the coast.Harrag Hoare was the present King of the Iron Islands from House Hoare. Ravos the Raper was his son.

Vlad was wearing his famous black armour, which had breastplate is decorated with a large dragon motif, and it is held in place by a leather belt. The shoulder pads are shaped like dragon wings, and they extend down to the wearer's elbows.

The gauntlets are made of metal, and they have sharp claws on the fingertips. The greaves are also made of metal, and they cover the wearer's shins and ankles.

The armor is a powerful and imposing piece of armor, and it is sure to strike fear into the hearts of its enemies.

While Theon growled, his frustration evident. "It appears they're becoming even more audacious."

Vlad hummed in agreement, his voice laced with determination. "Indeed, perhaps it's time to jog their memory and remind them why we earned the names Bloody Wolf and Impaler."

Theon's grin widened at Vlad's words, a fierce glint in his eyes.

While in the frigid waters of the Northern Sea stretched out before them, a vast expanse of dark, choppy waves. On the horizon, the sky was painted with hues of purple and orange as the sun dipped below the icy horizon. A biting wind howled across the deck of the Iron raider's longships, sending shivers through the crew's hardened bodies.

Harrag Hoare, a hulking figure with a braided beard and a patch over one eye, stood at the helm, his hand gripping the weathered wooden wheel. His other eye scanned the horizon, searching for signs of their destination, the North.

The longships were a sight to behold, their iron-clad bows adorned with menacing dragon heads, their sails bearing the crimson sigil of the

House Hoare. Each ship was manned by fierce warriors, their faces hidden behind masks of iron and leather, their bodies draped in furs to ward off the cold.

As they sailed further into the Northern waters, the temperature dropped even further, and the crew could see their breath in the frigid air. Icebergs loomed in the distance, drifting silently like ghostly sentinels of this desolate realm.

Suddenly, a lookout in the crow's nest above let out a hoarse cry, pointing to a distant shore. "Land ho!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the howling wind.

King Harrag nodded, his good eye gleaming with anticipation. The Iron raiders raised their oars, and the ships veered towards the icy coastline. The rugged cliffs of the North drew nearer, and the raiders knew that their destiny awaited on this frozen shore.

With a thunderous crash, the longships ran aground, their iron prows digging into the covered beach. The raiders leaped from their ships, their boots sinking into the sand. They had arrived in the North, ready to plunder, conquer, and claim this unforgiving land as their own.

As the Iron raiders disembarked from their longships, they found themselves confronted by a gathering of Northern Lords, led by King Theon Stark, a towering figure with a crown of steel and a cloak made of the pelts of fierce beasts. By his side stood his son, Jason Stark, a young and determined warrior eager to prove himself in battle.

Behind them, the mysterious and enigmatic Vlad Tepes, known for his cunning and ruthlessness, watched with a piercing gaze. He was an advisor, best friend and Genral to King Theon and a force to be reckoned with in his own right.

The Northern Lords, clad in fur-lined cloaks and bearing the banners of their noble houses, formed a formidable line, blocking the path of the Iron raiders. King Theon's voice boomed over the icy beach, carried by the wind.

"Iron born you have ventured far into the North"he began, his voice steady and commanding,"Winter is coming for you."

Jason Stark, his eyes ablaze with determination, stepped forward.

Vlad Tepes, a shadowy presence at the edge of the assembly, offered a chilling smile."You will not be returning back to Iron lands today."

One Ironborn, a brave but foolish soul, dared to mutter, "It's them... the Bloody Wolf and the Impaler."

King Haggar yelled in vigor"We must not step back.We will not return without plunder."

Majority of the ironborn were too greedy and did not believe the tales of the blessings of Starks or magical abilities of Vlad Tepes.But there was still some among them, who were worried and belived those tales.But they could not do anything.