5th Month of 284 A.C the Crag
Prince Rodrik Greyjoy
He was a prince, in title and name as much as in action. And by the gods it felt good, his father had been crowned on Old Wyk with the Driftwood Crown of old, and decreed that what Lord Donnor Saltcliffe had started he would finish. Plans had been made for many moons as they had waited and seen how the green lands had progressively gotten worse after the silver prince had supposedly fallen. Now they had the chance to get their revenge, and show the Greenlands that they were not cowed and would be a force to reckon with once more. That Saltcliffe had broken from the fold and had begun doing what it was that he had done at Fair Isle and Kayce and Feastfires, just showed Rodrik what sort of a mad man the man was. Saltcliffe had always been a bit strange, Rodrik's father King Balon had told him, something of an odd ball who worshipped some half human half sea man, whom he claimed was the Grey King but was in fact some demon from Nagga's hell. Rodrik did feel somewhat bitter that he had not been given command of the longships that his father and grandfather had constructed over the years, and instead was left to deal with some sort of runty little holdfast. And yet his wife Harla from House Stonetree had assured him it was for the best. She was with child, and soon enough he would have his own son and heir to groom.
The thought of his wife and her big teats and a son to call his own, drove Rodrik on, just as sure as the thought of a nice cup of ale and a wench to warm his bed, as they pushed through the shore onto the land. The men of the Crag were ready for them, but their greater numbers were too much for the men of the Crag. Rodrik with his good friend Harras Harlaw, pushed through the ranks swinging his sword as if it were nothing more than a stick. He was born to fight, Rodrik was, and truly he was. He swung his sword again and again, cutting and swinging, bringing the men who came before him down to the ground. Staining the snow covered ground red with blood. He began laughing as he did so, swinging his sword and slashing through men who seemed little more than green boys. His sword was beginning to grow redder as the battle continued more and more men with the shells of House Westerling were being brought low as Rodrik's men continued to come down off of the ships and onto the land.
He gave a roar and his men formed into a loose sort of sea snake position, slithering round the Westerling men and their holdfast, and cutting them down as they went through. There were many bodies on the ground, largely Westerling men. Rodrik himself clashed swords with the man he supposed was Lord Gawen Westerling, a tall man with little muscle to him, reedy, with the shells of House Westerling on his armour, and a slight swagger to him. That was what gave him away, Rodrik roared a challenge and the two met in the midst of the formation. Steel clashed and sparks began to fly, the man truly was quite weak, for there was little amongst his strength that Rodrik could not counter. When the man swung his sword all Rodrik had to do was move to the side and he would fall over into the snow, a fair few times Rodrik merely had to shove the man to the ground before he eventually decided a sword through the back was a good enough punishment for the Greenlander.
He left the corpse of Lord Westerling, and marched onward, the castle was clearly in sight. His men were overwhelming the poorly prepared Westerling forces, and as he pushed forward he noted that it was mainly Westerling men who were lying there on the ground, he laughed somewhat and pushed on. More men came charging down, and as such he cut them down with ease, laughing as he did so. There were perhaps two knights who could truly challenge him during the fighting outside of the castle, one was a big brute of a man who swung his sword as if it too were nothing more than a stick. He gave Rodrik a fair few blows but in the end Rodrik managed to slay him by shoving his sword through the man's chest. He left his sword buried in the man's chest and picked up the fallen man's own sword and pushed on. The second man who proved to be a challenge was the man who stood next to the gate of the keep, it was an interesting fight, Rodrik and this man sparred for a fair bit of time, until Rodrik eventually ducked a swipe and pushed his sword into the man's throat and pulled it out just as quickly. The man bled to death and Rodrik and his men pushed the gates open.
There were few men actually left in the castle, all those who could have put up a resistance to their force was either outside fighting, or dead. Rodrik bellowed a few commands and his men began to fan out through the grounds of the keep looking for any other men. Meanwhile Rodrik and Ser Harras and a few other men began to make their way over to where he supposed the Lord's Solar would be. As they walked through the keep they found various women and children and Rodrik ordered them be taken as thralls, as was the Ironborn way. It was Harras who found the solar, and it was there that Rodrik and his men found Lady Westerling and her children. Lady Westerling was a proud woman it seemed. "Yield the castle now and I might well spare your life woman." Rodrik offered.
"I would rather die than surrender the keep to you scum." The woman spat.
Rodrik grunted then and said. "Very well then if that is how it is to be, I shall have to end this fight for you then. Harras bring the boy here."
Ser Harras Harlaw, his most trusted companion walked over and forcibly took the boy, from his mother, and handed him over to Rodrik. Rodrik had unsheathed his dagger by this point, and he pressed the sword into the boy's neck. "Now woman, surrender or watch your boy die."
The woman seemed to hesitate then and he could see the struggle going on inside of her. It was something he took fascination in watching. Eventually she said. "I…. I… cannot. Please, take me instead of Raynald, please he is just a child."
Rodrik laughs then. "Oh, but I have not had my way with you yet woman. Alas I suppose killing the woman would make more sense than killing the boy." He pushes the boy Raynald back to the other side of the room and then says. "Come here woman, so you might grace the drowned god with your presence." The woman kisses her son's head, and then walks over with great reluctance. Rodrik grabs her by the arm and turns her so that she is facing him, he forces a kiss from her and then in one quick motion slits her throat. The woman falls to the floor, and the boy is screaming now crying and trying to get through Harras' grip. Rodrik looks at the boy once and then says. "Kill the boy as well Harras." His friend looks at him and then nods. The boy's throat is slit as well.
Shortly after that, Rodrik's brother Maron walks in, Maron is somewhat of an idiot, more like their uncle Euron than their father, and as such walking down a dark pathway. "There was a babe in the nursery as well brother." Maron says his voice sounding far too pleased.
"Where is the babe now?" Rodrik asks.
"She is with one of the men, the very lady like one… what's his name?" Maron says.
"Baron?" Rodrik asks trying not to laugh.
"Aye Barn that's it. He took her almost immediately. What do you want done with her?" his brother asks.
"I want a wet nurse found for the babe and I want them put on a ship and sent off to Pyke. She will be raised with my own son when he is born." Rodrik said. His brother nodded and soon enough the arrangements had been made the damage had been assessed and once that was all done, Rodrik called a meeting in the lord's solar. There was still blood on the floor, but the men who were gathered, including himself and Ser Harras had seen more than enough blood to last a life time. They would not be shaken but such a small matter. "We have this shit hole of a keep that my father has asked. The Westerlings are broken their strength lying on the ground dead or dying. The question is where to move to next."
Lord Dunstan Drumm speaks then. "Pendric Hills Your Grace. There is much gold there, and besides they will expect you to head to the coast. Raiding inland is something none of us have tried since the days of Harwyn Hardhand it is time we did so."
Rodrik's uncle Aeron speaks then. "Aye, going for Pendric Hills means we get gold and plunder. And the Lions will be shitting themselves as their gold begins to fall."
There was much and more laughter at that, and then Ser Harras spoke then. "I believe that would make a wise choice. Pendric Hills has gold as others have said and it means we can try to advance towards Nunn's Deep and Banefort."
Rodrik's Cousin Harwyn Harlaw, a fierce man and a man much older than Rodrik spoke then. "Gold there is plenty of here in the Westerlands. We must strike out and look to attack more keeps. It is time we hurt the Lannisters and their men."
Lord Torwyn Goodbrother speaks. "Aye, Harwyn speaks the truth. It is time we struck out and hit the castles of the Westerlands. Your father the king wants a kingdom, let us give it to him, and write our names in the songs of legend."
Murmuring followed this, and then Maron spoke, his voice silky and dangerous. "It is all well and good discussing attacking castles. But they are castles and we do not have the equipment meant for sieges. We have luck to thank for taking the Crag. The Westerlings were fools, and now they have paid for that. Ashemark will be hard to take. And having so many men raiding at Pendric Hills would be mad. I suggest we split our forces, one half going to attack Pendric Hills and another heads south towards Castamere. Attacking the undefended mines would give us a great deal of advantage."
Rodrik sees the sense in what his brother is saying. His voice is the one that will decide the matter and so he says. "Maron's suggestion is a good one. That is what we shall do. I shall command half our men to Pendric Hills, and Maron you shall command the other half that goes towards Castamere." There is murmured agreement and then the meeting ends.
They take that night to rest and to indulge themselves, and as Rodrik is heading back to his chambers with a headache somewhat, his cousin stops him and asks. "Are you sure having Maron command the second host is a good idea my prince? He is a good fighter yes, but he is green."
"Aye he is green, all the more reason for him to do something rash and die. The boy must go for my child to be secure when they are born." Rodrik says.
His cousin looks at him a moment and then says. "I could well just slit his throat tonight. You know I could."
Rodrik nods. "Aye. But there is no fun in that." With that the two cousins depart, one for a bed filled with a viper, and another that is cold and empty. The next morning Rodrik and his brother say little to one another but they embrace for what Rodrik hopes will be the last time and then they are riding off in separate directions.
There are some fifty men guarding the mines at Pendric Hills and Rodrik and his thousands of men slaughter them easily, Rodrik is bathing in their blood and in ale, his sword dripped red, as well as his armour. The men are in a good mood, the gold shall be returned to the Crag and their ships and soon enough Nunn's Deep shall be their next move. It is as he considers this that a man comes hurrying into camp and says they spot banners approaching. Another battle for him to fight and win.