Post by The Stranger on Jul 31, 2008 18:04:31 GMT -5
Commandeering the Crown Fleet, 526 AC
Ser Patrek Redfort, Ser Verden and Gawyn had rode for what felt like weeks, before they spotted one of the ships belonging to the Crown. They were sore and rode in silence, well Patrek did at least, he could swear that the humming from Ser Verden was driving him mad. As they neared the shore they could see the vast string of ships, they seemed perfectly occupied though doing nothing at all. Patrek grumbled they had even allowed the so called King Erik sail past and claim the Iron Isles for his own kingdom, which wasn’t that bad as it caused infighting among the Ironborn. “Ser Verden set up the flag, Gawyn get the trumpet and make some noise,” Patrek ordered. Patrek learned two things that day; Ser Verden was useless when setting up flags and Gawyn could positively lay waste to entire armies with his horrible trumpet blowing.
“I thought reinforcement was coming?” one sickly captain was commenting as the small group had been brought up deck. They had to leave their horses, giving Patrek some satisfaction. “We are the reinforcement, someone have to do the planning after all,” Ser Patrek said with an air of authority that only highborn knights, well lords and kings too but he was neither, could use. “Now where’s the commander of this fleet?”. The sickly captain turned even paler, making Patrek wonder just how long this captain had been one. “Take me to him,” Patrek said not bothering waiting for a response as he walked to one of the rails to look out over the water.
“This is madness!” the commander growled, a man going by the name Ser Tybolt Waters. “Quite the opposite, I have friends and companions trying to set fire to a good part of the Ironborn ships docked at Seagard. Now there can not possibly be that many ships protected by the castle itself, and some must be within striking range. You have ballistae, use them! The Ironborn will run like headless chickens trying to put the fire out, then we strike. We do not assault the castle unless the gates get opened and we have a good opportunity. We just destroy their best weapons, their longships. You should have done this ages ago, and not allowed that bloody traitor Erik get himself a damned crown!” The commander paled but did not waver, maybe a testimony to his skill Patrek doubted that as he’d never heard of the man. The now silent fury of the Redfort knight soon overcame Ser Waters pigheadedness. “When?” he asked. “By nightfall,” Patrek said.
Result
Redfort in Command of the Crown Fleet at Seagard.
Ser Patrek Redfort, Ser Verden and Gawyn had rode for what felt like weeks, before they spotted one of the ships belonging to the Crown. They were sore and rode in silence, well Patrek did at least, he could swear that the humming from Ser Verden was driving him mad. As they neared the shore they could see the vast string of ships, they seemed perfectly occupied though doing nothing at all. Patrek grumbled they had even allowed the so called King Erik sail past and claim the Iron Isles for his own kingdom, which wasn’t that bad as it caused infighting among the Ironborn. “Ser Verden set up the flag, Gawyn get the trumpet and make some noise,” Patrek ordered. Patrek learned two things that day; Ser Verden was useless when setting up flags and Gawyn could positively lay waste to entire armies with his horrible trumpet blowing.
“I thought reinforcement was coming?” one sickly captain was commenting as the small group had been brought up deck. They had to leave their horses, giving Patrek some satisfaction. “We are the reinforcement, someone have to do the planning after all,” Ser Patrek said with an air of authority that only highborn knights, well lords and kings too but he was neither, could use. “Now where’s the commander of this fleet?”. The sickly captain turned even paler, making Patrek wonder just how long this captain had been one. “Take me to him,” Patrek said not bothering waiting for a response as he walked to one of the rails to look out over the water.
“This is madness!” the commander growled, a man going by the name Ser Tybolt Waters. “Quite the opposite, I have friends and companions trying to set fire to a good part of the Ironborn ships docked at Seagard. Now there can not possibly be that many ships protected by the castle itself, and some must be within striking range. You have ballistae, use them! The Ironborn will run like headless chickens trying to put the fire out, then we strike. We do not assault the castle unless the gates get opened and we have a good opportunity. We just destroy their best weapons, their longships. You should have done this ages ago, and not allowed that bloody traitor Erik get himself a damned crown!” The commander paled but did not waver, maybe a testimony to his skill Patrek doubted that as he’d never heard of the man. The now silent fury of the Redfort knight soon overcame Ser Waters pigheadedness. “When?” he asked. “By nightfall,” Patrek said.
Result
Redfort in Command of the Crown Fleet at Seagard.