Ironman's Bay

Posted on Sun Feb 27th, 2022 @ 8:11pm by Lord Myles Lannister & Ser Brandon Redwyne & Lyle Lannister & Steffon Lannister & Lord Garth Blackwater & Ser Renn Baratheon & Lord Omer Redwyne & Lord Jorah Farman
Edited on on Thu Mar 17th, 2022 @ 6:39pm

Mission: The Iron Price
Location: Shores of Ironman's Bay
Timeline: 10th Day of the 13th Moon, 404AC.

Old Lord Myles looked more tired than usual, and in truth he was. Walking around in full armour every day was the job for younger men than he. The evidence was in the vitality of his two sons who accompanied him into the tent when the commanding Lords would plan their siege. The old lion sat, and his sons stood behind him, removing their helms.

The tent was not well appointed, but it was large, and size was really all that mattered in this moment.

Lord Garth moved in, his own armor a weight for him, leaving him quite out of breath. He had trekked with his men up the grey shores of Ironman's Bay, salt in his mane and in his breath. At his side was his grandson Garlan, looking stronger and a great deal more handsome then his aged grandfather. The older man had always put all of his time and energy into his older sister, it seemed, but now he had seen to bring him along to command the men of Highgarden rather than his own father. Garlan noticed the trend, that no matter what the Lord Paramount of the Reach did, he always bypassed his eldest son in doing it. Now Garlan, a boy of 16 years, was called to command the armies of the Reach with his grandfather as his guide. He was good with a sword and charming to boot, but he was no lord. At least, not yet.

"My Lord Lannister, I see the salty air agrees with you." Garth said, walking toward the table where a map of the iron islands sat. "May I introduce my grandson, Garlan."

Garlan nodded respectfully, his handsome face turning into an uncomfortable smile.

Myles tried to laugh but only coughed. He nodded to Garlan. "You know my boys. Steffon and Lyle."

"I do." Garth said, nodding a tired nod toward the two young sons of the Lord of Casterly Rock. "War is a young man's game. You should all be sure to pay attention. Soon, you shall rule."

"Young men." Muttered Lord Myles.

Steffon Lannister looked rather proud. He was the heir to Casterly Rock and the West, leading in battle was only the next step in preparing him to take his father's place.

On the other hand, Lyle was heir to nothing and despite his yearning, was denied his request to join the Maester's of the Citadel by his Lord Father. He had directed the anger her felt for his father into weapons training and found a proclivity for sword play. Which gave his father all the reason to bring the younger son along to sit in this strategy talk.

Lord Lannister looked around the tent. "Where is Tully?!" He demanded.

Lord Farman was just stepping in to take his place behind Lord Lannister with some of the other more prominent Westerlands bannermen when he heard his lord's question. "My lord, on my way from my ships, I saw the Riverlands breaking camp. I would have inquired but I assumed Lord Tully would have communicated his plans to you directly."

"I overheard that there were reavers attacking Riverrun, perhaps that is where they've hurried off too." Brandon Redwyne spoke from his place behind his Lord Father.

Alixander Hightower was posed with his palm rested on his pommel, watching the wiser old men banter. Rash and young, he just wanted to get stuck in- he wanted to start swinging his sword and cleave some vengeance for his King and his Queen. His eyes flicked to the effete gentleman that was the younger Redwyne. "They did," he said, though he offered no follow up. "Let's make them pay for it."

Brandon Redwyne regarded Alex with a certain fascination. "Aye."

Lord Lannister slammed his gloved fist on the table. "You young men will all have your battle soon enough. Lord Jonah's responsibility was to the crown, who ordered him here. He shirked that responsibility. We will not." He said.

Lord Redwyne put a hand on his son's shoulder and spoke gently. "There are always reavers in a war with the Ironborn. We left men to defend the Arbor and took other men to honor our obligations to the Crown to the Lord Blackwater. To leave one's lands undefended and then rush back, abandoning duty to the King, that is..."

"That is not the example we would want you young sers to follow," Ser Uthor said, doubtless more moderate than what Lord Redwyne was about to say. "But you will taste blood soon enough. Council is a place for careful planning." He then fell silent and looked to Lord Blackwater.

"The excuse of reavers doesn't quite cover it, my Lords." Garth said with narrowed eyes. Something else was going on. "But that is a question for another day. Now, we plan the attack here and do our duty. These rocks have very little by way of villages and towns, and the only noteworthy things for us to take and hold are the castles. Our strategy shall be to spread out around the isles and take the castles by force."

Lord Myles nodded vigorously. "We'll need to get a grasp on their resources as well, stop their supply runs and starve the holdouts."

"True," Garth said. "I shall take Pyke, and when I do, I shall cut off the supply routes. These isles are neither defensible or verdant. Conquering them without Ironborn ships in the port will be a simple matter."

"Redwyne will take Old and Great Wyk, Lannisters will take Harlaw. Once the larger islands are secured we will regroup to take Salt Cliffe, Orkmont, and Blacktyde." The old man coughed from deep in his chest. He reached out for one of his sons to help him to his feet. "Lets get this done men, and may the Warrior give us the strength."

"Where would you have our fleet?" Ser Uthor asked, not hearing it mentioned in the plan.

"Two thirds of our collective fleets shall stand watch on the eastern side of the isles." Garth said. "The rest will patrol in two groups around the islands, going opposite directions. If the Ironborn fleet approaches, I want to know it before it becomes a problem."

"That's it men. We'll make quick work of this." Lord Myles slammed his fist on the table. "For the King!" He bellowed.

His declaration was returned from all around the table as men stood to meet heir respective