Stephen Baratheon POV
A Month Later.
He woke up early in the morning and got a prompt blue notification in front of him.
You've recovered 50% HP MP. And all negative effects have been negated due to sleeping in an adequate straw bed.
He let out a yawn and get out of the tent he was sleeping inside.
"Morning Gereth, Loman." He told the two guards who'd been outside his tent on night duty as he looked at the army camp in front of him.
Seven Thousand men. It was still hard for him to believe that he commanded such a large army. That he was in charge of this many people and would eventually lead them to a battle that might very well lead them to their deaths.
He noticed that some of the people had already started to wake up and it won't be long before every single man in the camp was awake and ready for their morning drills.
The men under him were not happy about him drilling them so much. Or his strange methods of drilling them. Wake up at a particular time. Prepare your beds before you get out. Polish your weapon. Jog for 5 miles in a file. Always stay in your group of 10 people.
They didn't understand that he didn't only want to turn them into decent fighters but in an actual disciplined army. Though admittedly, some of the smarter men had slowly started to pick up on that.
He just hoped that the hard work they'd done here would actually help them survive in the upcoming battles.
After looking at the slowly waking up camp, he went back inside his tent. It was a small, bare thing will a single makeshift straw mattress and little in the way of amenities.
He'd given up most of his luxuries so that he could live like his levies and understand just how exactly they lived their lives in an army camp. And find ways to improve upon that.
He had already made a lot of changes in the camp. Most of them focused on the improving the hygiene in the camp. Simple things, that'll hopefully help them survive the war without falling to diseases, like many men in these medieval armies tend to do.
But despite letting go of all the luxuries, there was something in his tent, that was more valuable that almost anything else in the world.
Or two somethings in this case.
He reached of the satchel kept beside his straw mattress and took out the two Dragon eggs from inside it.
And used his Observe skill on them.
Petrified Dragon Egg 1
661,081 MP / 11,578,303 MP
Petrified Dragon Egg 2
508,194 MP/ 10,107,038 MP
Observe window also told him that these eggs were laid by Silverwing in the year 128 AC. The Dragon of Queen Alysanne and later Ulf White. It was one of the few dragons that survived the Dance of Dragons. Though it became a wild dragon after the war and then faded into the annals of history.
He put both the dragon eggs in the palm of his hands and started pouring his mana into them. Slow and steady, until all of his Mana had been poured inside the dragon eggs.
Now, it'll take over 84 minutes for his Mana to recharge (quicker if he meditated), at which point, he'll have to take out the dragon eggs and pour his mana into them once again. And do that throughout the day. 6-7 times a day.
The only thing that increase the speed at which the Mana Points increased was if he poured his magical blood into them or if he put the dragon eggs over a fire.
He had tried doing that before and noticed that if he poured his blood on the eggs and then put them on fire, then they'll automatically start to gather a few mana points per minute. The process lasting for almost an entire day.
But the process was also extremely slow and it would take decades if not centuries at such a rate for the Dragon eggs to fill up with mana and hatch.
Meaning that even if a normal Targaryen does hove the magic in his/her blood required to hatch these dragons, in theory. In practicality, it was all but impossible.
This would definitely explain why the dragon eggs of some of the Targaryens hatched. And why some of theirs didn't. And why some of theirs did hatch but it took years to do so.
He was also willing to bet that unpetrified dragon eggs would not require over 10 million Mana Points to hatch. Otherwise, a Targaryen would've never succeeded in hatching them.
This also made him wonder just how magically powerful Daenaerys Targaryen must be, that she was able to hatch not one, not two, but three fucking petrified dragon eggs. Even if she did use a sacrifice to do so. He supposed that he'll find out once he eventually brings her to Dragonstone.
Once the process was complete, he put the dragon eggs back in the satchel and tied the satchel to his back before he walked out of the tent.
Only to be accosted by a horse rider that quickly rode over to him.
A messenger.
"Ser Mylo, you have news for me?" He asked the knight whose horse looked to be rather tired from having to trout all the way from the Port town to the army camp.
The guy was the son of a hedge knight who was sworn to Lord Celtigar. But a week after coming here along with the Celtigar levies, the knight left his lord and pledged his service to him instead.
He still wasn't exactly sure why Mylo Drumwater decided to leave his liege lord and serve him. But he had a feeling that it had something to do with how he remembered the guy's name, asked after his family, paid him well, and didn't treat him like a complete non-entity.
Treating men well and with respect in general, was a surprisingly effective way to gain their loyalty, he'd found. And this would definitely explain how his uncle Renly was able to get so many lords and knights to side with him during the War of the Five Kings.
"Yes my lord. It's… it's the… the scouting ship my lord." The man said with slight nervousness.
Oh yeah, the fact that the man was a bit of a coward might also have something to do with why he wasn't treated well by the Celtigars. And why he jumped ship when he found a better employer.
If he hadn't used Observe and found out that the guy was now loyal to him and planned to serve him to his best abilities, then he would always doubt Mylo's loyalty. But as it was, he trusted the man as well as you can trust anyone in Westeros.
Gamer System for the win once again.
"What of the scouting ship?" He asked.
"It has returned my lord. And it's using the signal flags you created."
"I see." He said, his face grave as he looked at his guards. "Gereth, prepare my horse. Loman, go and tell the commanders to forego the morning drill and wait for further instructions."
His guards followed orders quickly and soon enough, he was riding back to the Port along with Mylo and half a dozen other knights who were sworn to him.
Once he reached the Port, he could definitely see a ship in the distance. He reached into his Inventory while pretending to reach into his satchel and took out a Far-eye.
He got a closer look at the scouting ship. Or more exactly, the signal flags at its prow.
The red flags meant that the enemy were finally here. And the VII manner in which the flags were put together meant that there were 7 ships sailing toward the Dragonstone Port.
It was not the most sophisticated signal that he could've created but it did its job well enough.
He looked at his knights and nodded. "It is time my friends. Inform the commanders that the enemies are here. And to prepare their men in the manner that we discussed in advance. They'll know what to do."
His knights rode back to follow his orders and soon, an army of 200 levies, 50 guards and 20 knights stood beside him at the edge of the port.
The rest of his army was in hiding.
He didn't want his enemies to see just how vastly outnumbered they were and turn their tail and run away. No, he wanted to lure them into his chosen battlefield before surrounding and slaughtering them.
For that reason, some of his men were hiding nearby in the Port Market, read to flank and destroy the enemy once all of them had landed. While others had already boarded their ships that were located in a nearby hidden alcove, with the intention to surprise attack the skeleton crew of the enemy ships while their army is busy attacking him and his army.
Because he wanted those ships, and he wanted them badly.
By this point, the scouting ship had reached the harbour. And the sails of the pirates and sell sails were finally visible in the horizon.
He used his Far-eye and saw 7 ships sailing in his direction.
They were good ships, each able to carry about 100-200 men. Each one swift, and made for the sole purpose of sea battle.
Or they used to be good ships at least. Now, they were in disrepair and ill maintained. He'll have to do something about that once this war is over.
He did not recognise most of the sails but he did recognise the sails of the three ships at the forefront.
They belonged to a man known as Jelal Hand-Taker. A sell sail captain that's notorious for breaking his contracts as well as raiding undefended Westeros settlements and taking the small folk to be sold in the Free Cities as slaves.
He had little doubt as to what this man would've done if he had succeeded in taking Dragonstone.
There will be no mercy for him and his men.
So he and his army of 270 men waited with baited breaths as the ships came closer and closer.
And as they did, the anxiety of his men increased little by little. Most of them never having fought in an actual battle.
He'll have to use his new skill 'Rousing Speech Lvl 6' to increase their morale before the battle starts.
Rousing Speech Lvl 6:- Increases the morale of men by 1 for each level. And makes it more likely that they'll listen to you. Useful, whether you're an army commander or a head servant who wants to inspire the other servants to clean the castle with more enthusiasm. 100MP/min.
It was one of the more useful skills he'd gained in his time as the commander of his army. The other useful skills being: Logistics, Drill Sargent, Inspire, March, and a few other miscellaneous skills.
He was brought of his thoughts as he heard a rider quickly coming over to him.
It was Ser Jon Harrington, one of the knights sworn to his mother and House Florent.
"Ser Jon." He greeted the knight who looked at the small amount of men he'd gathered with slight confusion.
"My lord." Ser Jon said, a bit hesitant as he continued. "Lady Selyse asked me to bring you back to Dragonstore where it's safe."
"…"
What the hell? Wasn't this like the same situation that happened in the show when Stannis attacked Kings Landing and Cersei asked Joffrey to return to the castle.
He supposed that all mothers are the same when it comes to worrying for their children.
But it'll be a cold day in hell before he left his army and ran away like that spoiled brat.
A silence fell over the army as the men heard the knight's words and he raised an eyebrow.
"You expect me to run back to the castle and hide behind my mother's skirt while the enemies are coming to our shores?"
Ser Jon Harrington frowned at his words and fought with himself for a moment before he continued. "My lord. You have an army of 7000 men willing to fight for you. And you are a boy of nine… despite you peculiarities. No one will think less of you if you choose not to take part in this battle. But if you died…"
Ser Jon trailed off at that and he could see the knights around him starting to hesitate, only now starting to understand just what would happen if he died while fighting alongside them.
Being sent to the Wall by his father would be the least of their worries if he died in this battle.
A good thing that he'd grown to the point that it was almost impossible for him to die to a normal man, thanks to his Gamer System.
These people didn't know that though, and he would do his best to keep it that way.
Plus, he did need to take part in this battle, even if only as the commander of the army, if he wanted to continue being its commander.
A commander who runs away while his army fights doesn't remain a commander for long after all.
Not to mention that his Army Commander skill gives 3 offence and 6 defence to the troops in his army. Whatever that number meant.
So he poured 100 MP into his Rousing Speech, increased the volume of his voice by changing his larynx with his Shaper power, and spoke up so that everyone standing nearby could hear him clearly.
"Perhaps Ser Jon. But I would think less of myself if I chose to return to the castle while these brave men fought in my stead."
The knight looked even more hesitant now. Mostly because he was one of those men who'd bought into Melisandre's beliefs about him being the Azor Ahai.
Before the Knight could come up with another rebuttal, he noticed that the enemy ships were getting closer and decided that he might as well start with his rousing speech.
"Men! I am amongst you right now. Not as your commander, but as a comrade. In the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all! To lay down my life in the service of my family, my people."
He wasn't sure if it was the effect of the Rousing Speech skill or the contents of his speech that he'd prepared beforehand. But his men seemed to regaining some of their lost confidence with each word.
He took out his sword and pointed at the ships that had almost at the harbour.
"Shall we allow our enemies to violate our people, our lands, and our families with Impunity?"
"No!" His men shouted. Though the effect was weak as some still looked nervous as the enemies came close to them.
"Will we allow these slaver scum to take our women and children and sell them to the heathens in Essos?"
"NO!" His men shouted, louder this time.
"No!" He shouted back. "For here we will stand, and fight. There will be no withdrawal. We stand here and fight. For our family. For our people. And for our Kingdom. OURS IS THE FURY!"
"OURS IS THE FURY!" His men chanted alongside him as the enemy debarked on their boats and rowed closer and closer to the shores.
"OURS IS THE FURY!"
"OURS IS THE FURY!"
"Archers! Loose!" He shouted and the men took out their bows and started loosing arrows upon arrows at the enemy boats that were now rowing to the shores.
The pirates and sell sails were ready for such an attack and took out their shields to protect themselves. It slowed their rowing and some of the arrows still went through the gaps but they continued to come closer and closer at a steady pace.
"My lord. If you're not going to go back to the castle then at least get behind us." Ser Jon said as he climbed down from his horse and sent it away before standing beside him. "Lady Selyse would skin me alive if something happened to you."
"I would concur with Ser Jon." Ser Brus Buckler said. "If you want to remain on the battlefield, then do so. But please my lord, get behind us at least."
He was about to argue against them but more and more of his men asked him to get to the back of the line while the enemies came closer and closer.
In the end, almost all of his men told him to get behind them. Not wanting a 9 year old to be in the front line. Even if that 9 year old looked more like a 13 year old (because of Shaper power) and defeated some of them regularly in their spars.
After thinking on it for a bit, he understood that even if he knew the enemy won't be able to scratch him, his men didn't. And him being in the front lines would probably worry them too much to fight properly.
So, he could either ignore them and fight on his own at the front line, making them risk their lives to protect his own. Or… he could get behind them and let them focus on the fight. Supporting them with his throwing knives instead.
After hesitating for a bit, he nodded and went to stand behind them as the pirates and sell sails finally landed upon their shores while his archers continued to loose volleys upon volleys of arrow at them.
He got a horse from one of his knights so that he could sit on top of it and get a better look at the battlefield.
It wasn't the smartest thing to do if they wanted to protect him. Since now the enemies could aim throwing projectiles at him. But he could not see anything from behind the line and he'll be safe due to his Gamer System so that was okay.
He did a quick count of the enemies coming to the shores and found that there must be about 1000 of them at least.
He had no doubt that they'd left some of their men behind on to ships to serve as a skeleton crew. But most of them them were coming here. And that's exactly what he wanted.
He watched from atop his horse as the enemies waited until more of them had arrived before they created a rough shield wall and started marching forward.
Hmm… he hadn't expected them to know how to use a shield wall. But he supposed that it was one of the most basic formations that anyone could learn. Plus, they have to be somewhat smart to have survived this long as pirates and sell sails.
It spoke well of their discipline that they were marching in a formation instead of running at his men one at a time. But that was not going to save them.
"Men! Take out your spears!" One of his knights barked out the order as the enemies came closer and his men stopped using their bows and took out their shields and spears instead. And got into a 4 by 70 formation.
"My lord. Should I blow the horn?" A squire beside him asked as the enemies finally reached their lines, and came to a slight halt in front of the ditch and stakes they'd prepared beforehand.
"Not yet." He said, noticing that not all of the enemies had landed on the shores. And even if they did, they could still run back to their boats if they understood just how badly outnumbered they were.
No. He needed them to come closer.
Eventually, the enemies started to cross the ditch. Being slowed down due to the water, mud, and stakes put inside that ditch. As well as the being stabbed by his men.
The front line of the enemies died by the droves. But they men behind them continued to push forward. Trampling on anyone that fell down so that they could continue.
He noticed that his men were doing well so far and holding their own against the enemies. Not giving an inch as the enemies finally reached their lines and started a melee fight.
The sound of screams and the battle reached his ears and he used 'Rousing speech' before shouting. "Men! Hold your ground! Don't give them an Inch!"
"My lord?" The squire asked, clutching the horn to his chest looking even more nervous now.
He casually dodged a javelin thrown at him from one of the smarter enemies before he looked at the men at the shore.
"Not yet." He said.
The melee turned ugly as more and more enemies crossed the ditch and some of his own men started dying in the battle.
It angered him that he was not participating in the battle himself. But seeing an 9 year old slaughter through the enemies might be a bit too much for even the men of Westeros so he held himself back.
Instead, he took out a few of his Throwing knives and poured some mana into the Pitch skill before he aimed and threw the throwing knives at the enemy commanders he'd noted so far.
The first enemy leader fell to a knife to the throat.
The second fell a moment later as he found a knife buried in his eye.
The third one followed suit, as did the fourth one, and the fifth one.
The enemies did not rout at the death of their commanders as they still outnumbered them 4 to 1. But they assault did slow down quite a bit as their lines lost some cohesion and morale.
"My lord?" The squire asked once again and he paused to look at the shores once again.
All the boats had landed and almost all the enemies had joined the melee.
This was good enough.
He looked at the squire and nodded.
And the squire blew his horn.
The battlefield paused for a fraction of a second at the sound of the warhorn before thousands of men marched out from where they were hiding in the port town until now.
Most of the enemies were too busy in the fight to notice the change. Only a few of them realised what was happening and tried to run back to their boats.
They never reached the boats as a group of horse riders reached them before they could reach their boats and skewered them with their lances.
More and more men emerged out of the town and reinforced his 270 while others flanked form the sides and started encircling the enemies from the back.
The battle turned into their favour almost immediately as enemies started to die by the droves.
His men were not as well armoured as he had hoped. For Steel was expensive in Dragonstone. But they were well armed and well trained. And knew how to fight in a formation. And the difference showed.
It was not long before half of the 1000 men had been killed in the battle and the others started to surrender.
Unfortunately for them, he had ordered his men to not take any of the slavers as prisoners and the one sided slaughter continued for a few more minutes until the enemies were all finally dead.
A cheer wen through his men at the great victory and he looked in the distance and saw that the enemy ships had turned around and were trying to make a run for it.
But his own ships quickly caught up to them and started boarding the pirate and sell sail ships.
He couldn't see that battle properly from such distance but he had no doubt that his men would emerge victories in that battle as well.
A moment later, a horde of notifications started appearing in front of his eyes as he realised that he'd just won the first battle of his life.
Now… it was time to heal the injured. Burn the dead. Compensate the families of the dead.
And prepare for the next battle.