Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

Chapter 82: ' A unit of crazy Heroes '

Hello everyone, here is a new chapter.

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[Patrick Rodriguez]!!

[Sdri]!!

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POV: Blade [3];

On a ship newly christened 'First Black Swan'. Crag Coast, about 70 miles from Pyke Harbour.

The night before the new moon came...

the 50 Black Swan was ready.

Every inch of sail and planking had been properly painted so that at night all the ships would be perfectly camouflaged in the water.

The fleet only landed on the coast near the Iron Islands at night. No fires were allowed. The Greyjoy scouts on the coasts were not supposed to spot those ships.

The Royal Fleet, on the other hand, consisting of about four hundred ships, was in plain sight about a day's sail behind.

The enemy should have known of the impending attack and would have been ready for it.

But the fifty Swan ships that would be attacking the day before was a different kettle of fish.

Admiral Stannis would have faked a pre-battle overnight stop in Banefort, but as soon as the Swan ships struck, he and his four hundred warships would join the fray as soon as possible.

The precision of that attack had to be surgical. One mistake and all would be in vain.

But if the plan succeeded, of the more than two hundred and thirty ships left in King Balon, at least a hundred would be trapped in the harbor and unable to join the fray.

{Divide & Destroy }. That was the name of the plan.

The lives of thousands of Allies were in the hands of those few heroes. In about twenty hours, less than three hundred men could either succeed and allow King Robert's army an easy victory, or fail and let every inch of Greyjoy coastline be taken at a heavy price.

Blade [3], one of only two women to pass the first 'Frost Blades' selection program, was one of the top three assassins in House Tallhart, and probably in the North.

Zick himself had complimented her. The grandmaster had even praised her, telling her that in five or at most ten years she could reach the level of instructor Ramas...

Janes had never dared to shed a tear during Sir Ramas countless tortures during that hellish year, but at that moment, she wanted to shed tears of joy...

Blade [3] was certainly not on the same level as Blade [1], who had an innate talent for this job, but she was certainly not too far behind Blade [2].

Now among these twenty-four chosen warriors, she was the leader. Even Lord Duncan, the Grandmaster's protg, would be her deputy in this mission.

Janes wasn't the most experienced of the top three, but she was the one who held the record for the most targets removed...

After the year she'd spent training the Queen Blades, the fourteen female assassins in the service of Lady Barbrey Dustin, she'd returned to the field to dispose of House Tallhart's toughest and most troublesome targets.

Forty-six missions in just thirteen moons and six days. An unbeaten record...

The most satisfying mission was undoubtedly [Captain of the City Guard Janos Slint].

That pig not only extorted coins from the poor beggars at Flea Botton but also kidnapped and molested at least one orphan every two or three months for his gain...

Ser Qyburn had specified that she could have full authority over the modus operandi of the subject's death. Janes would only have to de-list the subject within a maximum time frame of forty days.

Janos Slint suffered excruciating pain and suffering for twenty-six consecutive days...

She promised herself she would make it at least thirty days, but she was tired of the suffering and pleading voice of that cowardly toad.

Over the next three days, more than six hundred golden dragons in pieces of copper and silver were redistributed among many of the children who lived in Flea Bottom of King's Landing.

But now Blade [3] didn't have time to think about those good times... She had to think about creating new ones.

The Deputy Commander of the Winter's Watch, William, Sir Ramas's protg, was part of the twenty-five-strong team of assassin-sweepers. The boy, who was not yet seventeen, was a talent on a par with Blade [1] ...

Janes had tested the boy's abilities herself, and he could already safely be part of the Top Ten of all Frost Blades in the service of House Tallhart.

There was only a hierarchy of skills for the top ten Frost Blades. The remainder would retain their assigned number until the end. Currently, throughout Westeros and Essos, there were thousand two hundred and thirty-six active Frost Blades.

A network almost worthy of The Watcher's organization.

In two, or perhaps even a year at most, William would reach Blade [3]... Only the Old Gods knew the kind of techniques, training, and torture Instructor Ramas had tempered that boy with.

Standing next to the Vice-Commander, General Bloody Snow followed. Nineteen more veteran Frost Blades were lined up behind those two. Finally, four individuals in the service of House Reed followed... Crannogmen. Humanoids were no taller than five feet. Thin arms and legs, webbed feet and hands. Only the face appeared human.

According to Lord Reed, those four were among the finest warriors to inhabit the swamps of The Neck.

"By now you know all the details of the mission. You know what we will face tomorrow night. The fate of many is in our hands...

No mistakes or failures will be tolerated.

Do I make myself clear?" Blade [3], the commander in charge of that mission, asked.

"Yes, Sir!" Twenty voices answered in unison.

Although they understood the common language, the four Crannogmen did not utter a single word during those two days and nights of travel.

"You four... You will be our firing units.

Lord Howland Reed has informed me that you are the best hunters and marksmen among the Cranngmen...

At what distance can you accurately hit the target with those peashooters?" Blade [3].

A Crannogmen simply pulled out a flute-shaped barrel and fired a shot upwards.

A second later, a seagull that was perched on the mast at least thirty feet up in the pitch-black fell dead with a poisoned needle in the middle of its neck...

Many eyes stared in discreet amazement at the scene.

"... An excellent demonstration.

I want the four of you to concentrate your line of fire on all targets holding a torch or anyone who tries to approach any kind of light." The four humanoids nodded in silence.

"Well...

Lord General. Are you sure you'll be able to handle the lookout in the main tree by yourself?" Blade [3].

"Yes, Commander." The boy replied confidently.

"All right... Then it's settled.

There will be a difference of at least ten feet in height between the stern and the bow of the ship.

It will be at the stern that we will concentrate our attack. The ship will most likely turn its back on the Greyjoy fleet. If a single light signal reaches those enemy ships... we'll all be doomed.

We won't have time to reach the ten support ships waiting for us over a mile away, nor will we have time to signal them for help.

We'll be swimming about 300 feet away. We'll use these breathing apparatus and these protective glass masks.

The water will be freezing. We will not be able to stay in the sea for more than thirty minutes. We will swim slowly and quietly but never stop.

Four initial grappling hooks. It will be me, Lord Duncan, William, and Guriush who go up first." Said the commander, pointing to the chief warrior Crannogman last. He then went on to explain

"As soon as we give you the go-ahead, you will use the remaining six to board from the stern as quickly and quietly as possible.

Remember. The priority is to get rid of the lookout man thirty feet up. Defending the stern will be the second priority. Only from high points will they be able to send out light signals.

If we act cleanly, we won't allow a single breath to escape those mouths. Always aim for the throat if possible.

The 21 of us, we'll only have a couple of throwing knives and a long knife each. Make good use of every weapon.

There must be at least 40 experienced warriors on that boat. With luck, at least half of them should be asleep by then. If not, give up the surprise to be deadliest in the shortest possible time.

All clear?" The Commander asked.

"Yes, Sir!" Twenty voices answered in unison with four more heads nodding for the last time that night.

"Now you all go and get some rest. I want you all fresh, shiny, and bloodthirsty tomorrow."

End POV.

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POV: Ser Davos Seaworth.

Less than a mile from Pyke Harbour.

About twenty-four hours after the pre-mission briefing ended...

This was surely the most dangerous maritime adventure the man with over twenty years experience of sea and smuggling had ever taken part in...

The instrument named [Compass], had certainly removed many fears from the mind of the captain of the First Black Swan, but he was still full of anxieties and doubts.

The forty-nine captains and two hundred sailors he had selected were all good men with at least ten years of maritime military experience. All had been well trained, and although frightened, none of them flinched.

Davos had told each of them that if this mission succeeded, they would not only be rewarded with ten golden dragons each, but that they could save at least twenty soldiers and comrades each by their actions.

They would forever be called war heroes....

' It's good that all of them are well motivated... and also scared. Fear on many occasions has its usefulness. ' Davos thought as he remained at the helm of that ship.

'Li, Captain! That's the lookout ship." Said a sailor in a low voice pointing to a spot with a dozen points of light.

"Yes I see it, Dennis... Alert Lady Janes and Lord Duncan. On your toes sailor, and with your head down." Davos.

"Yes, Captain." The sailor replied with a whisper.

They were at least eight hundred feet from their target. From that distance they could see the lights of the Pyke coast. There were at least one hundred and twenty ships outside the harbour and another hundred inland.

The sea was slightly rough and the wind was blowing just enough to cover the low voices a few dozen feet away.

Lucky for them...

Even Davos wouldn't have suspected a thing had he been in command of that ship.

He certainly wouldn't have counted such an attack among the enemy's possible strategies....

'If the strike team fails, we're all dead....

If we delay reaching that ship with the lifeboat after directing the Swan ship... we're dead.

If we do everything perfectly, and even manage to recover five more sailors, there's still the risk of a Greyjoy ship reaching us before the Royal Fleet comes to our aid, even then, we're dead...

The fault is yours, Davos. You let that madman's enthusiasm for adventure carry you away.

You'll leave five sons and an unborn child behind without a father.

At least Lord Stannis promised to invest me with the title of Knight Dale.

'A fate not too dark for House Seaworth... but certainly dark for Davos Seaworth and the two hundred and fifty poor sailors I dragged along with me.... ' Davos thought bitterly.

'Trading and fishing... If by some miracle I make it out of this alive, I will ask Stannis to allow me to honorably retire from my military career. I swear it Marya." He whispered, speaking to himself Davos.

About three minutes later...

The Black Swan had reached four hundred feet from its target... As agreed, the forty-nine ships of the fleet had fallen about a thousand feet behind. They were to wait for the signal light on the bow of the conquered ship. From that moment, the attack would begin.

Each ship had been well oiled and loaded with barrels full of coal dust. Sparks were forbidden on board for more than one reason.

If all had succeeded, House Greyjoy would have witnessed a light show that would have put the fireworks display at Lannisport to shame a few months ago.

A boy approached the Captain, still carefully maneuvering the helm... The sea manoeuvre had been carried out to perfection. The sails had already been lowered so that the boat moved slowly by inertia.

"Soon it will be your turn, Lord Duncan." Davos said quietly.

"Good work, Ser Davos. Fear not my friend.

We shall come through this safely." The half-naked boy replied, dyed black from head to toe.

That dye would remain for at least a couple of days. Two or three hot baths wouldn't have been enough to return to a normal colour.

"Can you promise me that?" Davos.

"... Mmm I'd say no... but I'm definitely the one taking the biggest risk between the two. Ahaha!" Replied the boy almost letting a too high tone escape.

"Are you sure you want to leave your sword with me?" Davos.

"Of course. Take good care of it and try not to forget our weapons and armour. I'm sure I left Red Rain in good hands....

Just try to carry it with your right hand. Ahaha...

Sorry, that was in bad taste." Jester.

"Pff... Ahah.

You're a fool, Duncan of House Tallhart.

In a few seconds we'll reach three hundred feet.... Be sure to have a ship ready with you alive on it when I arrive." Davos.

'' Said the madman who followed the mad boy. Pfff! That was a nice one... The right joke at the right time.

Fear not, my friend. You'll hear even better ones in the future!" The boy said finally, joining the group, ready to dive at any time.

Davos replied. Although the boy was already too far away to hear him.

"Good luck... Heroes of the North."

End POV.

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POV: Duncan;

Out to sea less than a hundred feet from the target.

About five minutes after a boy saluted a captain with a limp hand...

The water was freezing. The spring sun had not yet done its work.

Now I understood why Rose didn't want to risk stepping aside and making way for that poor fellow called Jack... Soon those thousands of cold stings would turn into blades.

You couldn't stop the body from moving. Five minutes at a standstill and your limbs would go numb to the point of no return.

But none of my companions seemed to be stopped by this obstacle.

Already voices could be heard... laughter and shouting.

As I swam and dipped my head intermittently with the leather and glass mask, I could already catch a glimpse of a small group of five to six men on the bow, drinking and playing with axes.

The Dance of the Fingers... what a stupid game. ' I thought, trying to distract myself from the constant torpor of the cold.

I had already counted at least twelve men in the bow and at least four in the stern. About twenty at the most.

Luck was on our side.

It would be a silent attack...

About a minute later...

The first grappling hook was launched and hooked into a decorative wooden recess in the ship. A few feet below the floor.

The sound of impact was faint.

Blade [3] climbed up first.

That woman-sicary, she was dangerous.

She was on the same level as Syggha, though her [9] had a slightly less heated gradation than the latter.

Nevertheless, she was on a higher level than William...

Janes was a more competent assassin than me.

In an alley fight at night, I might even have lost bitterly to her.

Janes hooked two more grappling hooks into a foothold in total silence.

I handed her the last one and she deftly grabbed it, hooking it between two posts at the base of the dock fence.

William, Guriush, and I prepared to follow the captain up the short stretch of rope.

Janes signaled with his fingers that there were four immediate targets to be eliminated and indicated the approximate location.

We prepared our throwing knives and blowguns, each choosing a target.

He caught a glimpse of mine... His back was turned and he seemed ready to turn in a few moments.

The commander gave the signal.

I threw the throwing dagger and hit the target squarely between the trachea and the sternum. Three gurgling sounds similar to those of my victim followed in minute intervals...

Slow footsteps could be heard coming up the steps. A fifth man would arrive shortly.

Janes and I were the closest.

I acted as a decoy waiting for the target...

As soon as the man saw me, he widened his eyes and prepared to unsheathe his ax... but a handheld his mouth and stifled the sound of moaning until the blood gushed from his lips.

I helped the commander to place the body on the ground and drag it to the side.

William and Guriush acted as lookout posts and signaled the all-clear.

"Get on soon." Janes, aka Blade[3], ordered in a low voice.

Six more grappling hooks anchored themselves firmly at several points on the fence. In a few seconds, a dozen of my comrades climbed aboard the enemy ship.

We were now outnumbered, but we still waited for a few more fish to take the bait.

In a couple of minutes, two nice squids were attracted to the bait...

"Jerrit! Ahahaha! Come and see! That idiot Gaston has amputated his little finger! Ahahahah!

Where the fuck are you?!" The two men walked briskly past twenty-one blades and four loaded peashooters.

None of us could tell which weapon gave them the fatal blow.

But the real danger was about to come...

That sailor's call was attracting the attention of the boatswain's mate more than thirty feet up the mast.

I had been keeping my eye on this man, my chosen target, from the moment I stepped on board.

I sprinted to a suitable spot for my maneuver.

Now that I had leveled up to the 5th level, I could use the spells of the second circle. And there was one that was very unique to the Paladins of Life.

{Misty Step}.

I focused on the exact spot where I wanted to appear, and in the blink of an eye, a silvery mist enveloped me and I reappeared a beat later at that spot thirty full in the air landing in that exact little piece of empty crow's nest. I was less than a foot away from the Ironman with my eyes wide and face in shock at having just seen a demon in black appear.

"What a Fu&#... Glupl... coff..." I turned the blade on his neck violently and decisively.

No mercy, no honor... pure and simple murder.

In a last heroic gesture, the man tried to move his hand towards the burning torch, but I prevented him.

'Eight'. I counted inwardly.Every man down before the real assault began was an extra chance of success. That crew certainly had no chance of winning the fight, but with a little effort and luck, they would have been able to alert the fleet less than three thousand feet away.

Then only divine intervention by Seraphinus could have saved us...

Even I had to admit that this was the craziest, riskiest plan I had ever devised.

I made a hand gesture visible by the light of the torch one step away from me.

The group slowly tiptoed forward, spreading out on either side of the ship.

I prepared to disembark, refreshing the knife in its case.

As I descended, I noticed that a crannogman and another frost blade had managed to cleanly eliminate two more targets.

Ten,' I thought.

All the shooters had positioned themselves at four different central and high points of the ship. Where they would have a better view. William and ten blades, had stayed behind to defend the stern.

I joined the main assault group.

There were a dozen men in a circle watching another performance of the "Dance of the Fingers".

We were less than fifteen feet from the group...

"Hey look at that!" He pointed at an ironman in an indecisive but high tone.

Blade [3] lowered his arm.

Four needles and a dozen throwing knives ran over the group of fourteen men.

Six had instantly fallen to their deaths...

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!!! ARGHH!!!" Another knife pierced that ironborn's chest, missing the heart section by half an inch.

Four of those seven remaining men managed to pull their weapons from their scabbards and attempt a strenuous defense by shouting battle cries as loud as they could.

I charged towards the target who had even managed to grab a shield in addition to his one-handed ax. I took advantage of the darkness to get around him, dodging an inaccurate slash.

I slashed the wrist of the hand wielding the weapon, cleanly severing half the limb. The ax fell to the ground without even giving the man time to curse in pain.

He finished off my enemy by driving more than a foot of blade through his exposed ribcage and into his vital organs... The man fell to the ground.

Blade [3] was already on her second target.

A few men in the galley were alarmed and six or seven men attempted to join the fray but were quickly decimated by poison darts and throwing daggers.

William's crannogmen and rearguard had our backs.

He managed to shoot down another enemy, the last one insight at the time.

I had counted thirty-one downed enemies on my Death List.

"RISE AND SHINE! IN FORMATION!

WE MUST SEND THE SIGNAL AT ALL COSTS!

WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE! ATTACK!" shouted one man.

"WHAT IS DEAD MUST NEVER DIE!!! ARGHH!" another dozen voices shouted.

The main door at the stern of the ship swung open and fifteen heavily armed men launched into a desperate, but more organized, attack and focused the offensive on William's group. What appeared to be the ship's captain was shirtless and wielding a two-handed, two-pronged ax.

"EXTERMINATE THEM!!!" thundered our commander in response, leading the charge at the head of our group.

The real battle began... but the enemy had already counted their steps.

They were surrounded on three sides, outnumbered, and with warriors less experienced and less prepared to fight. There was no match.

It was one-sided carnage.

One man tried to throw a torch overboard, but it was immediately intercepted by four sharpshooters...

However, the Longship Captain managed to seriously wound a Frost Blades to my incredible surprise. The man in his forties must have been a true Ironborn warrior, his number [8] glowing above his head was proof of that.

I rushed over to my wounded comrade-in-arms who was trying to stop the bleeding with both hands.

In an instant, with a green glow radiating from my hands, I completely healed that mortal wound.

Only three other minor wounds had been inflicted on our group, but they could only wait a couple of minutes.

The captain, badly wounded in several places, fell to his knees. He gave up all hope when he saw the only achievement of his crew come to their senses as if they had just awoken from a sweet sleep...

"Who... Who are you?" The captain asked, spitting blood.

He was the only crew member still alive.

"A unit of Crazy Warriors of the North."