Chapter 84: ' Roll for Initiative '
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Chapter 84: ' Roll for Initiative '
Hello everyone, here is a new chapter.
I would like to thank to:
[moku8]!
[Patrick Rodriguez]!!
[Sdri]!!
I don't know who you are guys, but thank you very much for your support on Ko-fi!!!
Thanks again.
For the remaining 14 days of freedom I have left, I'll attach below the link to my Buy me at Ko-fi page. /duncanrandargotpaladin
Thank you all for your comments and advice!
Of course, none of you are under any obligation to donate.
But if you feel the visceral urge to do so... Well, do it. AHAH!
P.S.
If you can leave a review for my Fanfiction, I'd appreciate it. Thanks in advance!
-7 days!!! ( Job is Coming))
Happy reading!
-------------------------------------
POV: Cleric Of Drowned God;
Iron Victory is about eight miles from Pike's Harbor.
About half an hour before Iron Victory managed to reach the enemy ship...
"Balon's defeat is at hand." Said a young prophet of just twenty-two with long hair and a beard.
Since the day of his first blessing some six years earlier, Aeron Greyjoy, the youngest of the sons of the former Lord of Pyke, Quellon Greyjoy, had not cared about his physical appearance.
The days of loving beer, song, and women were over for the sixteen-year-old ironman. Aeron's divine transformation had made him devoutly devoted to the god in his watery halls. Now he is an austere, humorless young man who sees every breath as a gift that is wasted if not used to extol the virtues of following the path of the Drowned God.
"He should have listened to you...
A mistake I will not make in the future." Said the chosen champion of the Drowned God in response. Aeron's older brother, captain of the Iron Victory, and lord admiral of the Iron Fleet, Victarion Greyjoy.
Since the day they were both claimed by a voice in the sea, the brotherly duo had become closer than ever.
Both the priest and the champion of their God had shown some minor skills to their brother Balon, to impress him and gain further privileges that would serve their true purpose.
They met in great secrecy to discuss matters that only they could understand...
Victarion made sure to protect his guide and the voice of his God. Aeron to lead the chosen ones on the right course across the seas.
"A very creative trick to halve the Iron Fleet's naval power.
Are you sure we can't at least make our prisoner the mastermind of that plan? He might prove a useful booty in the future... " Victarion.
"No... He is an enemy of our God. Balon is still our king by all the laws of the sea. We will not disobey his command.
When he falls, we will pursue another course." Aeron.
"How many captains will follow us on that course?" Victarion.
"Fourteen captains and fourteen ships." Aeron.
"A small number... " Victarion.
"Only the most worthy believers of our God will serve us in this mission entrusted to us by the one true God." Aeron.
"Aye, but we'll still have to find others in the future to give our god what he demands..." Victarion.
"We will... but before we embark on that journey, let us carry out our King's last order. The Drowned God also claims that tribute before us." Aeron.
"Nothing will save that tribute from its fate... Unless a storm comes." Victarion.
"The Drowned God has heard my prayers, brother. The Storm God will not hinder your hunt." Aeron.
"What do Naga's bones say? Good omens or bad?" The Captain.
"Both...
Can you see it too, Brother?" Aeron asked, pointing to a small green halo less than seven hundred feet from the bow. A glow that only two Iron Islanders could have noticed. And they were both aboard the same ship at that exact moment.
"Yes, I see it... Another chosen one? What god does he belong to?" Victarion.
"False Gods...
There is one and only one true God that matters, brother. The Drowned God.
I believe he is a man from the North. A chosen one of those who call themselves 'Old Gods'... Gods who are made of wood." Aeron.
"Wood is used to make ships, not to be worshipped.
The tree-lover stands on foreign soil that is poisonous to his saplings. We will cut him down." Victarion.
"You may underestimate the worshippers of the Old Gods, but do not underestimate the one who defeated Denys Drumm." Aeron.
"So that little boy, Bloody Snow, is their champion... That's why he managed to beat Denys in a duel.
How many blessing processes do you think he underwent?" Victarion.
"He seems to have the same intensity as you... I think he has already been called back five times. Just like you..." Aeron.
"It doesn't matter... I have defeated Denys before and I possess divine powers on par with his. His tricks won't work against me.
I have my ax, our god, a better ship, twice the number of their men, and you...
There will be no sunrise for the Champion of the Old Gods.
He will awaken reborn in the dark abyssal halls of the Drowned God." Said the 30-year old wearing his helmet in the shape of a Kraken's head.
Victarion always wore full plate armor in any fight. He was one of those few Ironborn who was not afraid to fall into the sea and be dragged into the depths of the abyss under the weight of their armor.
Aeron also wore armor. The Drowned God had also granted him the ability to adapt to heavy armor, as well as giving him the martial knowledge of the trident and the net.
Aeron had not yet been claimed from the sea for the fifth time, like Victarion. He was not yet ready. He would have to face another test.
He was sure that this was the test his god had assigned him to be worthy of increasing his powers one more time.
The divine magic of the second circle was powerful, of course, but the priest felt that at the next step he would have access to powers incredibly superior to these. Powerful weapons and means to serve the Drowned God more effectively.
A holy mission had been entrusted to him. The world was to know and worship their God. It was time for false idols to fall.
All peoples had to worship their God if they were ever to set foot on a beach. The Sea and the Oceans belonged to the servants of the Drowned God.
This was the message Aeron had translated when he prayed for three days and nights on the open sea in total solitude.
His brother Balon was a faithful believer in the Drowned God and the Old Way, but he was not the chosen one.
He was only three inches short of seven feet in height. His chest was as broad as a bull, his arms long and thick.
He was probably the strongest man in Pyke. Immediately after the battle against the Royal Fleet, in which the Iron Fleet was defeated, Victarion was summoned for the fifth time by his God. The same painful process that increased his divine gifts.
And for the fifth time, a numerical list appeared before him.
Willpower and charisma had increased from five years earlier.
His statistics cited:
Strength: 20
Dexterity: 12
Constitution: 18
Perception: 14
Will: 16
Intelligence: 11
Charisma: 15
Victarion was always a little annoyed by that eleven in intelligence, but he was also aware that he was never the most cunning and wise of the Greyjoys. As a young man, he only had an interest in reading texts about maritime notions and warfare. Everything else was unimportant and boring...
He could leave everything else to the cowardly rats in the libraries.
He was a man of action, not knowledge.
Luckily for him, he could also count on the help of his brother Aeron.
His younger brother knew every sacred Drowned God text by heart. Not surprisingly, Aeron had an honest [15] in intelligence.
"FIFTY FEET TO IMPACT!" Shouted the boatswain.
"All right... MEN! PREPARE! LET'S REMIND THOSE FLEEING COWARDS WHY THEY SHOULD NEVER COME NEAR OUR SEAS!!!" Incited Victarion, gathering over fifty men ready for the assault.
"YEAARGH!!!" Replied the marauding Ironmen.
"THIRTY FEET!!!" Warned the boatswain.
"READY WITH THE BRIDGE!" Victarion.
The men obeyed. Immediately four crew members positioned themselves at the edges of the two levers.
'They still maintain a high speed... They do this to lessen the force of impact between the two vessels...
They have a capable captain. But that still won't save them... ' Victarion's bloodlust was through the roof. He was one of the few warriors from the Iron Islands who could maintain control of his emotions and unleash a murderous aura at the same time.
Only Denys Drumm was a real challenge for him on those islands. And he couldn't wait to cross axes with the warrior who had claimed his life.
Nothing was more thrilling than this moment. Facing a true warrior in his chosen terrain, with the smell of the sea breeze, the salt spray on his face, and the cold wind helping to cool his steel and leather-clad body.
The man had been born to raid and fight at sea.
"TEN FEET!" Boatswain.
"Now brother..." said Victarion picking up his shield and ax.
Aeron prepared to perform the first support spell. A second circle spell that didn't require concentration. The duo had to be careful not to get too far apart. If they were more than sixty feet away from each other the spell would end.
Aeron performed the first divine magic.
[Warding Bond.]
The Drowned God's priest could only use a maximum of two more spells from the second circle and four from the first.
But they were more than enough for this battle...
"IMPACT!" The boatswain.
A bump shook the craft, causing a couple of men to lose their balance, but they promptly got back up afterward.
"NOW! LOWER THE DECK!" The levers were released.
An iron harpooned bridge lowered onto the enemy ship, hooking firmly into the wood.
"ATTACK!!!" A dozen men in the front row charged across the twenty-five-foot-long bridge at the far end of the bow.
"Nute. I always want you and at least six men to stay behind to protect Aeron. Clear?" Victarion.
"Yes, Captain!" Nute unsheathed his double-throwing axes remaining a few steps behind his captain's brother.
Victarion charged forward. It was already his turn to board.
The Iron Victory was at least five feet taller and almost twice as long and wide as the Longship stolen by the enemy.
They could easily dock at the top of the stern. And so they did. The docking was simple and clean.
Even too clean for Victarion's taste...
Already on deck, the man hardened by a hundred battles on enemy ships sensed that something was wrong.
He could not yet hear the clang of steel or the usual cries of a fierce struggle.
Together with ten other trusted men, the Paladin of the Drowned God had finally arrived on the enemy ship.
All his men were still there safe and sound. But they seemed to have regrouped and stopped for some reason.
No need to ask...
Victarion was also slightly impressed.
The enemy had gathered waiting at the bow in full formation... but that wasn't what stopped the pace of the ironmen charge...
It was the faces.
All of them wore strange, never-before-seen masks in the shape of bird beaks and strange glass visors. A very disturbing and peculiar sight.
There were at least thirty armed men in five rows, with one boy wielding a prized red bastard blade at the head of the group...
Victarion stepped forward.
"Ready to greet us, smiling tree lovers. Are you Bloody Snow?" The Captain asked, taking the opportunity to meet his future opponent in person.
It was an event more unique than rare. Never before had an Iron Victory assault been so 'diplomatic and calm'.
"I am, squid lover." The boy replied.
"Why are you wearing those masks? Don't you want to show your terrified faces during the fight?" Victarion asked, taking a few steps forward. Several of his men laughed with predatory looks.
The two sides were well aligned. The Ironborns had also had time to gather, but unlike their enemy, there were more than sixty of them.
Aeron was safely in a high position above the quarterdeck at the stern along with his chosen guards. From that position, he could easily have a clear unobstructed view for his spells.
"Partly yes, Captain..." The man was surprised and confused by the answer he had just received. But then the boy added:
"Another of the reasons is to protect all of us from blindness and the unstoppable urge to vomit up our entrails as well...
NOW! FIRE AT WILL!!!"
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Chapter 84: ' Roll for Initiative '
Hello everyone, here is a new chapter.
I would like to thank to:
[moku8]!
[Patrick Rodriguez]!!
[Sdri]!!
I don't know who you are guys, but thank you very much for your support on Ko-fi!!!
Thanks again.
For the remaining 14 days of freedom I have left, I'll attach below the link to my Buy me at Ko-fi page. /duncanrandargotpaladin
Thank you all for your comments and advice!
Of course, none of you are under any obligation to donate.
But if you feel the visceral urge to do so... Well, do it. AHAH!
P.S.
If you can leave a review for my Fanfiction, I'd appreciate it. Thanks in advance!
-7 days!!! ( Job is Coming))
Happy reading!
-------------------------------------
POV: Cleric Of Drowned God;
Iron Victory is about eight miles from Pike's Harbor.
About half an hour before Iron Victory managed to reach the enemy ship...
"Balon's defeat is at hand." Said a young prophet of just twenty-two with long hair and a beard.
Since the day of his first blessing some six years earlier, Aeron Greyjoy, the youngest of the sons of the former Lord of Pyke, Quellon Greyjoy, had not cared about his physical appearance.
The days of loving beer, song, and women were over for the sixteen-year-old ironman. Aeron's divine transformation had made him devoutly devoted to the god in his watery halls. Now he is an austere, humorless young man who sees every breath as a gift that is wasted if not used to extol the virtues of following the path of the Drowned God.
"He should have listened to you...
A mistake I will not make in the future." Said the chosen champion of the Drowned God in response. Aeron's older brother, captain of the Iron Victory, and lord admiral of the Iron Fleet, Victarion Greyjoy.
Since the day they were both claimed by a voice in the sea, the brotherly duo had become closer than ever.
Both the priest and the champion of their God had shown some minor skills to their brother Balon, to impress him and gain further privileges that would serve their true purpose.
They met in great secrecy to discuss matters that only they could understand...
Victarion made sure to protect his guide and the voice of his God. Aeron to lead the chosen ones on the right course across the seas.
"A very creative trick to halve the Iron Fleet's naval power.
Are you sure we can't at least make our prisoner the mastermind of that plan? He might prove a useful booty in the future... " Victarion.
"No... He is an enemy of our God. Balon is still our king by all the laws of the sea. We will not disobey his command.
When he falls, we will pursue another course." Aeron.
"How many captains will follow us on that course?" Victarion.
"Fourteen captains and fourteen ships." Aeron.
"A small number... " Victarion.
"Only the most worthy believers of our God will serve us in this mission entrusted to us by the one true God." Aeron.
"Aye, but we'll still have to find others in the future to give our god what he demands..." Victarion.
"We will... but before we embark on that journey, let us carry out our King's last order. The Drowned God also claims that tribute before us." Aeron.
"Nothing will save that tribute from its fate... Unless a storm comes." Victarion.
"The Drowned God has heard my prayers, brother. The Storm God will not hinder your hunt." Aeron.
"What do Naga's bones say? Good omens or bad?" The Captain.
"Both...
Can you see it too, Brother?" Aeron asked, pointing to a small green halo less than seven hundred feet from the bow. A glow that only two Iron Islanders could have noticed. And they were both aboard the same ship at that exact moment.
"Yes, I see it... Another chosen one? What god does he belong to?" Victarion.
"False Gods...
There is one and only one true God that matters, brother. The Drowned God.
I believe he is a man from the North. A chosen one of those who call themselves 'Old Gods'... Gods who are made of wood." Aeron.
"Wood is used to make ships, not to be worshipped.
The tree-lover stands on foreign soil that is poisonous to his saplings. We will cut him down." Victarion.
"You may underestimate the worshippers of the Old Gods, but do not underestimate the one who defeated Denys Drumm." Aeron.
"So that little boy, Bloody Snow, is their champion... That's why he managed to beat Denys in a duel.
How many blessing processes do you think he underwent?" Victarion.
"He seems to have the same intensity as you... I think he has already been called back five times. Just like you..." Aeron.
"It doesn't matter... I have defeated Denys before and I possess divine powers on par with his. His tricks won't work against me.
I have my ax, our god, a better ship, twice the number of their men, and you...
There will be no sunrise for the Champion of the Old Gods.
He will awaken reborn in the dark abyssal halls of the Drowned God." Said the 30-year old wearing his helmet in the shape of a Kraken's head.
Victarion always wore full plate armor in any fight. He was one of those few Ironborn who was not afraid to fall into the sea and be dragged into the depths of the abyss under the weight of their armor.
Aeron also wore armor. The Drowned God had also granted him the ability to adapt to heavy armor, as well as giving him the martial knowledge of the trident and the net.
Aeron had not yet been claimed from the sea for the fifth time, like Victarion. He was not yet ready. He would have to face another test.
He was sure that this was the test his god had assigned him to be worthy of increasing his powers one more time.
The divine magic of the second circle was powerful, of course, but the priest felt that at the next step he would have access to powers incredibly superior to these. Powerful weapons and means to serve the Drowned God more effectively.
A holy mission had been entrusted to him. The world was to know and worship their God. It was time for false idols to fall.
All peoples had to worship their God if they were ever to set foot on a beach. The Sea and the Oceans belonged to the servants of the Drowned God.
This was the message Aeron had translated when he prayed for three days and nights on the open sea in total solitude.
His brother Balon was a faithful believer in the Drowned God and the Old Way, but he was not the chosen one.
He was only three inches short of seven feet in height. His chest was as broad as a bull, his arms long and thick.
He was probably the strongest man in Pyke. Immediately after the battle against the Royal Fleet, in which the Iron Fleet was defeated, Victarion was summoned for the fifth time by his God. The same painful process that increased his divine gifts.
And for the fifth time, a numerical list appeared before him.
Willpower and charisma had increased from five years earlier.
His statistics cited:
Strength: 20
Dexterity: 12
Constitution: 18
Perception: 14
Will: 16
Intelligence: 11
Charisma: 15
Victarion was always a little annoyed by that eleven in intelligence, but he was also aware that he was never the most cunning and wise of the Greyjoys. As a young man, he only had an interest in reading texts about maritime notions and warfare. Everything else was unimportant and boring...
He could leave everything else to the cowardly rats in the libraries.
He was a man of action, not knowledge.
Luckily for him, he could also count on the help of his brother Aeron.
His younger brother knew every sacred Drowned God text by heart. Not surprisingly, Aeron had an honest [15] in intelligence.
"FIFTY FEET TO IMPACT!" Shouted the boatswain.
"All right... MEN! PREPARE! LET'S REMIND THOSE FLEEING COWARDS WHY THEY SHOULD NEVER COME NEAR OUR SEAS!!!" Incited Victarion, gathering over fifty men ready for the assault.
"YEAARGH!!!" Replied the marauding Ironmen.
"THIRTY FEET!!!" Warned the boatswain.
"READY WITH THE BRIDGE!" Victarion.
The men obeyed. Immediately four crew members positioned themselves at the edges of the two levers.
'They still maintain a high speed... They do this to lessen the force of impact between the two vessels...
They have a capable captain. But that still won't save them... ' Victarion's bloodlust was through the roof. He was one of the few warriors from the Iron Islands who could maintain control of his emotions and unleash a murderous aura at the same time.
Only Denys Drumm was a real challenge for him on those islands. And he couldn't wait to cross axes with the warrior who had claimed his life.
Nothing was more thrilling than this moment. Facing a true warrior in his chosen terrain, with the smell of the sea breeze, the salt spray on his face, and the cold wind helping to cool his steel and leather-clad body.
The man had been born to raid and fight at sea.
"TEN FEET!" Boatswain.
"Now brother..." said Victarion picking up his shield and ax.
Aeron prepared to perform the first support spell. A second circle spell that didn't require concentration. The duo had to be careful not to get too far apart. If they were more than sixty feet away from each other the spell would end.
Aeron performed the first divine magic.
[Warding Bond.]
The Drowned God's priest could only use a maximum of two more spells from the second circle and four from the first.
But they were more than enough for this battle...
"IMPACT!" The boatswain.
A bump shook the craft, causing a couple of men to lose their balance, but they promptly got back up afterward.
"NOW! LOWER THE DECK!" The levers were released.
An iron harpooned bridge lowered onto the enemy ship, hooking firmly into the wood.
"ATTACK!!!" A dozen men in the front row charged across the twenty-five-foot-long bridge at the far end of the bow.
"Nute. I always want you and at least six men to stay behind to protect Aeron. Clear?" Victarion.
"Yes, Captain!" Nute unsheathed his double-throwing axes remaining a few steps behind his captain's brother.
Victarion charged forward. It was already his turn to board.
The Iron Victory was at least five feet taller and almost twice as long and wide as the Longship stolen by the enemy.
They could easily dock at the top of the stern. And so they did. The docking was simple and clean.
Even too clean for Victarion's taste...
Already on deck, the man hardened by a hundred battles on enemy ships sensed that something was wrong.
He could not yet hear the clang of steel or the usual cries of a fierce struggle.
Together with ten other trusted men, the Paladin of the Drowned God had finally arrived on the enemy ship.
All his men were still there safe and sound. But they seemed to have regrouped and stopped for some reason.
No need to ask...
Victarion was also slightly impressed.
The enemy had gathered waiting at the bow in full formation... but that wasn't what stopped the pace of the ironmen charge...
It was the faces.
All of them wore strange, never-before-seen masks in the shape of bird beaks and strange glass visors. A very disturbing and peculiar sight.
There were at least thirty armed men in five rows, with one boy wielding a prized red bastard blade at the head of the group...
Victarion stepped forward.
"Ready to greet us, smiling tree lovers. Are you Bloody Snow?" The Captain asked, taking the opportunity to meet his future opponent in person.
It was an event more unique than rare. Never before had an Iron Victory assault been so 'diplomatic and calm'.
"I am, squid lover." The boy replied.
"Why are you wearing those masks? Don't you want to show your terrified faces during the fight?" Victarion asked, taking a few steps forward. Several of his men laughed with predatory looks.
The two sides were well aligned. The Ironborns had also had time to gather, but unlike their enemy, there were more than sixty of them.
Aeron was safely in a high position above the quarterdeck at the stern along with his chosen guards. From that position, he could easily have a clear unobstructed view for his spells.
"Partly yes, Captain..." The man was surprised and confused by the answer he had just received. But then the boy added:
"Another of the reasons is to protect all of us from blindness and the unstoppable urge to vomit up our entrails as well...
NOW! FIRE AT WILL!!!"
Chapter 84: ' Roll for Initiative 'Hello everyone, here is a new chapter. I would like to thank to: moku8! Patrick Rodriguez!! Sdri!! I don't know who you are guys, but thank you very much for your support on Ko-fi!!! Thanks again. For the remaining 14 days of freedom I have left, I'll attach below the link to my Buy me at Ko-fi page. /duncanrandargotpaladin Thank you all for your comments and advice! Of course, none of you are under any obligation to donate. But if you feel the visceral urge to do so... Well, do it. AHAH! P.S. If you can leave a review for my Fanfiction, I'd appreciate it. Thanks in advance! -7 days!!! Job is Coming Happy reading! ------------------------------------- POV: Cleric Of Drowned God; Iron Victory is about eight miles from Pike's Harbor. About half an hour before Iron Victory managed to reach the enemy ship... "Balon's defeat is at hand." Said a young prophet of just twenty-two with long hair and a beard. Since the day of his first blessing some six years earlier, Aeron Greyjoy, the youngest of the sons of the former Lord of Pyke, Quellon Greyjoy, had not cared about his physical appearance. The days of loving beer, song, and women were over for the sixteen-year-old ironman. Aeron's divine transformation had made him devoutly devoted to the god in his watery halls. Now he is an austere, humorless young man who sees every breath as a gift that is wasted if not used to extol the virtues of following the path of the Drowned God. "He should have listened to you... A mistake I will not make in the future." Said the chosen champion of the Drowned God in response. Aeron's older brother, captain of the Iron Victory, and lord admiral of the Iron Fleet, Victarion Greyjoy. Since the day they were both claimed by a voice in the sea, the brotherly duo had become closer than ever. Both the priest and the champion of their God had shown some minor skills to their brother Balon, to impress him and gain further privileges that would serve their true purpose. They met in great secrecy to discuss matters that only they could understand... Victarion made sure to protect his guide and the voice of his God. Aeron to lead the chosen ones on the right course across the seas. "A very creative trick to halve the Iron Fleet's naval power. Are you sure we can't at least make our prisoner the mastermind of that plan? He might prove a useful booty in the future... " Victarion. "No... He is an enemy of our God. Balon is still our king by all the laws of the sea. We will not disobey his command. When he falls, we will pursue another course." Aeron. "How many captains will follow us on that course?" Victarion. "Fourteen captains and fourteen ships." Aeron. "A small number... " Victarion. "Only the most worthy believers of our God will serve us in this mission entrusted to us by the one true God." Aeron. "Aye, but we'll still have to find others in the future to give our god what he demands..." Victarion. "We will... but before we embark on that journey, let us carry out our King's last order. The Drowned God also claims that tribute before us." Aeron. "Nothing will save that tribute from its fate... Unless a storm comes." Victarion. "The Drowned God has heard my prayers, brother. The Storm God will not hinder your hunt." Aeron. "What do Naga's bones say? Good omens or bad?" The Captain. "Both... Can you see it too, Brother?" Aeron asked, pointing to a small green halo less than seven hundred feet from the bow. A glow that only two Iron Islanders could have noticed. And they were both aboard the same ship at that exact moment. "Yes, I see it... Another chosen one? What god does he belong to?" Victarion. "False Gods... There is one and only one true God that matters, brother. The Drowned God. I believe he is a man from the North. A chosen one of those who call themselves 'Old Gods'... Gods who are made of wood." Aeron. "Wood is used to make ships, not to be worshipped. The tree-lover stands on foreign soil that is poisonous to his saplings. We will cut him down." Victarion. "You may underestimate the worshippers of the Old Gods, but do not underestimate the one who defeated Denys Drumm." Aeron. "So that little boy, Bloody Snow, is their champion... That's why he managed to beat Denys in a duel. How many blessing processes do you think he underwent?" Victarion. "He seems to have the same intensity as you... I think he has already been called back five times. Just like you..." Aeron. "It doesn't matter... I have defeated Denys before and I possess divine powers on par with his. His tricks won't work against me. I have my ax, our god, a better ship, twice the number of their men, and you... There will be no sunrise for the Champion of the Old Gods. He will awaken reborn in the dark abyssal halls of the Drowned God." Said the 30-year old wearing his helmet in the shape of a Kraken's head. Victarion always wore full plate armor in any fight. He was one of those few Ironborn who was not afraid to fall into the sea and be dragged into the depths of the abyss under the weight of their armor. Aeron also wore armor. The Drowned God had also granted him the ability to adapt to heavy armor, as well as giving him the martial knowledge of the trident and the net. Aeron had not yet been claimed from the sea for the fifth time, like Victarion. He was not yet ready. He would have to face another test. He was sure that this was the test his god had assigned him to be worthy of increasing his powers one more time. The divine magic of the second circle was powerful, of course, but the priest felt that at the next step he would have access to powers incredibly superior to these. Powerful weapons and means to serve the Drowned God more effectively. A holy mission had been entrusted to him. The world was to know and worship their God. It was time for false idols to fall. All peoples had to worship their God if they were ever to set foot on a beach. The Sea and the Oceans belonged to the servants of the Drowned God. This was the message Aeron had translated when he prayed for three days and nights on the open sea in total solitude. His brother Balon was a faithful believer in the Drowned God and the Old Way, but he was not the chosen one. He was only three inches short of seven feet in height. His chest was as broad as a bull, his arms long and thick. He was probably the strongest man in Pyke. Immediately after the battle against the Royal Fleet, in which the Iron Fleet was defeated, Victarion was summoned for the fifth time by his God. The same painful process that increased his divine gifts. And for the fifth time, a numerical list appeared before him. Willpower and charisma had increased from five years earlier. His statistics cited: Strength: 20 Dexterity: 12 Constitution: 18 Perception: 14 Will: 16 Intelligence: 11 Charisma: 15 Victarion was always a little annoyed by that eleven in intelligence, but he was also aware that he was never the most cunning and wise of the Greyjoys. As a young man, he only had an interest in reading texts about maritime notions and warfare. Everything else was unimportant and boring... He could leave everything else to the cowardly rats in the libraries. He was a man of action, not knowledge. Luckily for him, he could also count on the help of his brother Aeron. His younger brother knew every sacred Drowned God text by heart. Not surprisingly, Aeron had an honest 15 in intelligence. "FIFTY FEET TO IMPACT!" Shouted the boatswain. "All right... MEN! PREPARE! LET'S REMIND THOSE FLEEING COWARDS WHY THEY SHOULD NEVER COME NEAR OUR SEAS!!!" Incited Victarion, gathering over fifty men ready for the assault. "YEAARGH!!!" Replied the marauding Ironmen. "THIRTY FEET!!!" Warned the boatswain. "READY WITH THE BRIDGE!" Victarion. The men obeyed. Immediately four crew members positioned themselves at the edges of the two levers. 'They still maintain a high speed... They do this to lessen the force of impact between the two vessels... They have a capable captain. But that still won't save them... ' Victarion's bloodlust was through the roof. He was one of the few warriors from the Iron Islands who could maintain control of his emotions and unleash a murderous aura at the same time. Only Denys Drumm was a real challenge for him on those islands. And he couldn't wait to cross axes with the warrior who had claimed his life. Nothing was more thrilling than this moment. Facing a true warrior in his chosen terrain, with the smell of the sea breeze, the salt spray on his face, and the cold wind helping to cool his steel and leather-clad body. The man had been born to raid and fight at sea. "TEN FEET!" Boatswain. "Now brother..." said Victarion picking up his shield and ax. Aeron prepared to perform the first support spell. A second circle spell that didn't require concentration. The duo had to be careful not to get too far apart. If they were more than sixty feet away from each other the spell would end. Aeron performed the first divine magic. Warding Bond. The Drowned God's priest could only use a maximum of two more spells from the second circle and four from the first. But they were more than enough for this battle... "IMPACT!" The boatswain. A bump shook the craft, causing a couple of men to lose their balance, but they promptly got back up afterward. "NOW! LOWER THE DECK!" The levers were released. An iron harpooned bridge lowered onto the enemy ship, hooking firmly into the wood. "ATTACK!!!" A dozen men in the front row charged across the twenty-five-foot-long bridge at the far end of the bow. "Nute. I always want you and at least six men to stay behind to protect Aeron. Clear?" Victarion. "Yes, Captain!" Nute unsheathed his double-throwing axes remaining a few steps behind his captain's brother. Victarion charged forward. It was already his turn to board. The Iron Victory was at least five feet taller and almost twice as long and wide as the Longship stolen by the enemy. They could easily dock at the top of the stern. And so they did. The docking was simple and clean. Even too clean for Victarion's taste... Already on deck, the man hardened by a hundred battles on enemy ships sensed that something was wrong. He could not yet hear the clang of steel or the usual cries of a fierce struggle. Together with ten other trusted men, the Paladin of the Drowned God had finally arrived on the enemy ship. All his men were still there safe and sound. But they seemed to have regrouped and stopped for some reason. No need to ask... Victarion was also slightly impressed. The enemy had gathered waiting at the bow in full formation... but that wasn't what stopped the pace of the ironmen charge... It was the faces. All of them wore strange, never-before-seen masks in the shape of bird beaks and strange glass visors. A very disturbing and peculiar sight. There were at least thirty armed men in five rows, with one boy wielding a prized red bastard blade at the head of the group... Victarion stepped forward. "Ready to greet us, smiling tree lovers. Are you Bloody Snow?" The Captain asked, taking the opportunity to meet his future opponent in person. It was an event more unique than rare. Never before had an Iron Victory assault been so 'diplomatic and calm'. "I am, squid lover." The boy replied. "Why are you wearing those masks? Don't you want to show your terrified faces during the fight?" Victarion asked, taking a few steps forward. Several of his men laughed with predatory looks. The two sides were well aligned. The Ironborns had also had time to gather, but unlike their enemy, there were more than sixty of them. Aeron was safely in a high position above the quarterdeck at the stern along with his chosen guards. From that position, he could easily have a clear unobstructed view for his spells. "Partly yes, Captain..." The man was surprised and confused by the answer he had just received. But then the boy added: "Another of the reasons is to protect all of us from blindness and the unstoppable urge to vomit up our entrails as well... NOW! FIRE AT WILL!!!"
