Chapter 6: The War Room of the Mind
The departure of the Storm Lords left a palpable vacuum in Storm's End, replaced by a frenetic energy that Robar had personally injected into the very stones of the castle. Gone was the languid pace of a feudal household preparing for a distant conflict. Now, it was a war machine being meticulously assembled, every gear oiled, every blade sharpened, every resource tallied and leveraged for maximum impact.
Robar had claimed the solar as his personal war room, transforming the ancient chamber into a command center. Maps of Westeros, meticulously updated by Maester Cressen under Robar's exacting instructions, covered the walls. Messengers, both mounted riders and ravens, arrived and departed constantly, carrying orders, reports, and the ever-flowing stream of information that Robar craved. Stannis, a grim shadow, oversaw the logistics with ruthless efficiency, ensuring that the levies from the Storm Lords flowed into Storm's End's coffers and armories according to the schedule Robar had dictated.
The initial reports were… encouraging. The fear and awe Robar had inspired in his bannermen had translated into a remarkable level of compliance. Men and supplies were arriving in numbers that even Stannis admitted were beyond his expectations. The War Bonds, initially met with skepticism, were proving surprisingly popular. The promise of future riches, coupled with the implicit threat of Robar's displeasure, was a potent combination. BCR's coffers swelled, not just with gold and silver, but with grain, timber, and other resources that would be vital for a prolonged campaign.
Robar, however, was not complacent. He knew that the initial surge of enthusiasm and fear would wane if it wasn't sustained by decisive action and tangible results. He needed to demonstrate the effectiveness of his methods, to show his bannermen that their investment – both in lives and in gold – was a wise one.
He spent hours studying the maps, his mind a whirlwind of calculations. He knew the broad strokes of the coming war from his GoT knowledge, but the details, the specific troop movements, the shifting alliances, were fluid. He needed to anticipate, to predict, to outmaneuver his enemies before the first major battle was even fought.
His immediate strategic priorities were threefold: secure the Stormlands, forge alliances, and cripple the Crownlands.
Securing the Stormlands was paramount. He couldn't afford to leave a vulnerable rear. He tasked Stannis with overseeing the establishment of a network of fortified supply depots along the major roads, ensuring that his army could move swiftly and be resupplied efficiently. He ordered the construction of new siege engines, based on his vague memories of Roman designs, adapted for medieval materials. He wanted the Stormlands to be not just a source of manpower, but a logistical juggernaut, capable of sustaining a prolonged war effort.
Forging alliances was a delicate balancing act. He knew that the Tullys of Riverrun were the key to securing the Riverlands, and that Ned Stark was riding north to secure their allegiance. He sent a raven to Ned, urging him to press for a swift betrothal to Catelyn Tully, emphasizing the strategic importance of the alliance over any personal feelings. He also knew that Jon Arryn was attempting to sway the Vale to their cause. The Vale's knights were formidable, but the Eyrie's isolation made its logistical support challenging. He needed to find a way to integrate the Vale's forces into his supply network, perhaps by establishing a sea route through the Fingers.
The most tempting, and most dangerous, alliance was with the Iron Islands. Balon Greyjoy was a volatile, unpredictable factor. But his fleet could wreak havoc on Targaryen shipping, disrupting their supply lines and potentially opening a sea route to King's Landing. Robar, however, was wary of the Ironborn's penchant for raiding and pillaging. He needed to find a way to harness their naval power without unleashing them on his own lands. He considered offering them a share of the spoils from Targaryen coastal cities, a controlled form of piracy that would enrich them while serving his strategic goals. He knew this was a risky gambit, but the potential reward was too great to ignore.
Crippling the Crownlands was essential to weakening the Targaryen regime. He knew that Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, was a formidable fortress. But it was also a vital naval base. He considered a surprise assault, using the Ironborn fleet as a diversion while his own forces, augmented by Stormlander ships, launched a direct attack. He knew that Dragonstone held valuable resources, including dragon eggs, which, while currently dormant, could be incredibly valuable assets in the future.
King's Landing itself was a more complex target. He knew about the wildfire caches beneath the city, a terrifying weapon in the hands of a mad king. He needed a strategy that would minimize civilian casualties and prevent Aerys from unleashing his fiery apocalypse. He considered a siege, starving the city into submission. But that would be time-consuming and costly. He also considered a swift, surgical strike, using his own forces to seize the Red Keep and neutralize Aerys before he could give the order to ignite the wildfire. This was a riskier option, but it would preserve the city's infrastructure and population, both valuable assets for the future.
He spent hours poring over maps of King's Landing, studying the layout of the streets, the location of the gates, the defenses of the Red Keep. He remembered snippets from the Game of Thrones books and show, trying to glean any tactical advantage. He knew about the tunnels beneath the Red Keep, the secret passages, the potential escape routes. This knowledge, however fragmentary, gave him an edge.
He also began to experiment more overtly with his powers. He could feel the Gura Gura no Mi thrumming within him, a source of almost limitless potential. He practiced creating localized tremors, shaking the ground beneath his feet without causing widespread destruction. He realized he could use this ability to disrupt enemy formations, to create fissures in castle walls, to collapse tunnels. He also experimented with his Haki. He could now extend his Observation Haki for miles, feeling the movement of troops, the approach of ships, the subtle shifts in the wind. He could use Armament Haki to reinforce his weapons, making them nigh-unbreakable. And he was beginning to learn how to control his Conqueror's Haki, projecting his will, his dominance, over others. He used it sparingly, only when necessary, to intimidate recalcitrant lords or to quell unrest among his troops. He knew that overuse could be draining, and that its effects were subtle, more psychological than physical.
As the days turned into weeks, Storm's End transformed into a hive of activity. Blacksmiths hammered out weapons day and night. Carpenters built siege engines. Quartermasters organized supplies. Messengers raced back and forth. Robar, at the center of it all, directed the chaos with cold precision, his mind constantly calculating, planning, anticipating. He was forging the Stormlands into a weapon, a Stormblade that would cleave through the Targaryen dynasty and carve out a new order in Westeros. And he, at its head, would reap the rewards.
He knew that the coming war would be brutal, bloody, and unpredictable. But he also knew that he had advantages that no one else possessed: his 21st-century intellect, his knowledge of the future, and the devastating power of the Gura Gura no Mi. He would use these advantages ruthlessly, efficiently, and without sentiment. He was not fighting for honor, or for justice, or even for revenge. He was fighting for profit, for power, and for the chance to reshape Westeros in his own image. And he would let nothing, and no one, stand in his way.
Word Count: Approx. 2800 words