Chapter 102: ' The Lost Hope... '

Dear readers bad news.... My Warrior-War Cleric pg, Duncan Randar (Yes I named him after my D&D campaign PG), fell on the field yesterday....

Pulverized by an infamous Disintegrate spell, against a late campaign Lich boss. He fought with honor, but the 20 on the die didn't come out....

I dedicate this chapter to you, my faithful companion in adventure.

These 200 Sunday afternoons of adventure will not be forgotten.

Honor to you Duncan Randar, may Torm welcome you to the halls of Trueheart!

With that said, happy reading to all!

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POV: Balon Greyjoy;

Main Corridor, Sea Tower, Pyke.

Seconds before a primitive entity took over...

Arrogance and confidence melted away like wax thrown into the embers; along with it, so did the nickname "The Brave One", a title earned in his youth for his fierce and fearless deeds. His arms felt like pieces of wood, his legs did not respond to commands, tiny hot drops dripped down his thighs...

Balon Greyjoy felt such a sensation of danger, terror and helplessness. All the past victories in which he prevailed in a fight, the women he stole with iron and became salt wives, the storms the man defeated on the high seas, and the incredible and intoxicating discharges of power Balon felt the moment he snatched a loot conquered with iron, forged the mentality of a giant. A giant Kraken he thought he was... but faced with that presence... a presence beyond what ordinary sight could perceive or describe, the Kraken felt drained like sun-dried brushwood ready to be burned to fertilize fields. In front of him stood a ravenous hunter. He was a hunter who had no fear of the two more prominent, heavily armed individuals in front of him. The Kraken and the shark were no threat, just two larger prey with more meat to cook on the coals and more bones to boil for soup.

Blades and hands smeared with blood, bright raptor eyes and a ravenous mouth ready to savour whatever flowed through the veins of the new fish fresh to his.

'A monster!" the very definition struck the shocked minds of Balon and Ardan.

"By the King!" Three reinforcing Ironmen managed to reach their King and join the fray.

The ominous aura diminished, dispersing into a larger area. Balon finally caught his breath, his limbs working again. Shame, fury and a bit of instinctive wisdom came over him and managed to loosen the knot of total impotence that paralyzed him.

The men behind the demon seemed unwilling to give him a hand. The marksmen continued to concentrate their fire upwards. If the crossbowmen had really wanted to bring down the King of the Iron Islands, Balon would have been dead long ago. In all likelihood, the enemy had received orders not to harm a possible valuable hostage. An advantage that Balon would have used without delay.

"Surround him and take him down!" ordered the King, moving into a safe position behind Ardan. The beast left time and favour for the enemy to deploy and prepare as best he could. The long swords rotated, exchanging grip between the hands with skilful sleight of hand.

"Come along," said the voice in the middle more in an eerie tone of amusement than arrogance. Balon hoped that more men would be able to arrive, but the enemy behind was wreaking havoc on the unfortunate men trying to climb the ever-increasing pile of corpses. But it was still five against one. If Bloody Snow fell, enemy morale would sink along with it.

The first axe, followed by a scream, attempted to lunge at the exposed skull behind. Ardan's sword and the other two tried lunges and diagonal support cuts. Bloody Snow instantly aligned the two hilts rotating the blades as if they were part of a single double-edged sword. The twisting of the arms and torso seemed unnatural. A steel tornado repulsed any attack by slashing two men on the shoulders and forearms with a single jab. Then, a second furious and less coordinated attempt came. The demon-boy rotated fluidly, dodging a lunge and directing it at Ardan, who retreated defensively. A handful of fingers were sliced off with a second double martial movement that disarmed the axe-wielding ironmen and deflected another attack behind him.

Two more vindictive attempts came in that short period... nothing. Bloody Snow defended himself and counterattacked in parallel from all directions. That monster had eyes and ears everywhere; there were no blind spots, but what troubled Balon the most was that the brat seemed to be playing with the enemy more like a bloody sparring against novice pages rather than a real fight against fierce veterans of the islands. Still, even if waning in martial technique, those men should have made up for the imbalance with at least physical strength!

The boy seemed to be able to parry and respond to blows as if he were the adult there! A flat kick to the chest sent one man flying nearly five feet backwards...

While he was looking for possible openings, Balon noticed a couple of possible winning shots held back. Only Ardan seemed to be the most tenacious and challenging in the group. The other three men were merely toys trapped in a cruel game of cat and mouse. As the seconds passed, more and more slight cuts and wounds appeared on the prey's body. The terrifying amused smile on the demon's face was proof of that.

'You filthy bastard! You dare to mock the iron men! Arrogance will be your undoing!" the wave of anger prevailed against fear. Balon shielded the man still searching for his lost fingers and joined the fray. Bloody Snow had both blades occupied in a two-way parry, allowing the offending King to strike bare shoulders. A cry of pain, a spray of blood that blinded his eyes and a voice, "Finally, Balon! Ahah!"

The man didn't even know how that call could come from his own back. He realized that the axe was planted on the shoulder of a familiar man whose name Balon couldn't even remember; somehow, the Tallhart boy slipped behind him in a single movement that the King couldn't even follow. "You bastard!!!" roared Balon turning around and cleaving blows left and right in a fury.

Ardan supported the offensive at his side, wielding his sword and throwing an axe.

Now that he was experiencing firsthand the energy of those blows and the ease with which Bloody Snow parried and deflected his own, Balon thought:

'It wasn't just a scene; this demon is as strong as an aurochs! It's like I'm fighting Victarion!'

*Clangore!*, *Clangore!*, the coordinated assault though ineffective, still managed to push the enemy onto the defensive forcing him back a few steps. Balon's audacity, in addition to the adrenaline rush, was supported by his theory that the enemy, though dripping with murderous intent, had no intention of mortally wounding a valuable hostage that could end the war.

Then the counterattack began... Fluid and a fierce storm of blades raged at Balon and Ardan, reversing their positions. The King's left hand lost its grip on the shield due to burning and a twinge on his wrist. A deep cut that managed to sever a tendon in his hand and a solid push to the chest broke his breath, pushing him back four steps. Due to the sudden gag reflex, Balon nearly emptied all his innards onto the ground.

Ardan gave up his grip on the axe, backing away and roaring with pain. The guard captain was lacerated on the face; his hand involuntarily covered his right eye to stop the copious bleeding. An ironman in the rear replaced the commander attempting a direct assault by the sword. It was then that the real massacre began putting an end to the demon's heating.

The starting signal was a severed arm, followed by a slashed throat. Balon stepped back, pushing forward two more flesh shields. The first was impaled in the windpipe without even understanding where the blow had come. The second managed to parry a couple of exchanges before buckling in terror on his knees as he stared at both blood-splattered, handless stumps...

Balon backtracked a few more steps, stumbling over a gutted body in the way. He got back up and continued to drag himself backwards on the wall as the demon slowly advanced. "My King! Urgh! Back!" the fearless Ardan 'Sharktooth' rallied to his defence. One eye dripping with blood closed, sword and shield ready to claim vengeance and allegiance for House Greyjoy.

A spark of hope flared in Balon's terrified heart as he continued to back away in search of a chance at salvation. A drape of doubt began to rise in the Kraken's mind... Perhaps that monster was not sparing him but simply intentionally leaving him for last for sadistic pleasure! Those ravenous green eyes kept staring at him with ardent desire, not caring about the previous opponent just a few steps away from him.

End POV.

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POV: Bloody Snow;

Main Corridor, Sea Tower, Pyke.

About a second after the last opponent stepped forward...

The fatigue and pain he had accumulated earlier had melted away like salt in boiling water... Instead, massive new energy radiated from the predator. He had never felt so strong, fast or powerful before.

Bloody Snow felt between his fingers the ability to pulverize the bone of a massive arm with the easy grip of his hand. His body was flexible and rigid enough to withstand a hammer blow from the Stag King himself.

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Discharges of adrenaline and endorphins pervaded every muscle in his body. Pleasant massive salivation was accumulating in his mouth, making the desire to bite off the jugular of the prey in front of him grow. Killing a prey that was trivially trying to masquerade as a predator... there was no greater urge or desire at that moment. It was the sweetest, most intoxicating feeling one could experience. The grip in his steel claws became firmer. The strength in his legs was ready to explode at any moment. The only obstacle was the indecision of choice as to how to tear into his prey and when to snatch the spark of life in his eyes.

'Courage... I sense Courage and loyalty in that man's face', thought a calmer voice catching a spark of lucidity.

[Tear them away! Break that man until that face turns into pure despair! Kill him!], roared the opposite voice with disgust and ferocity.

The body went along with the second impulse, jumping towards the enemy. Bloody Snow gracefully dodged a couple of bodies and metal objects in the way of his charge, charged up a wall with one foot and leapt on the funniest and juiciest prey with a double swing of the blade from top to bottom. The man promptly managed to parry the first fierce shield attack but failed to respond. The exchange continued in the next instant without respite. Now that he was so close to his prey, Bloody Snow noticed the tusk-like decorations between the armour's shoulder straps and a shiny, thick, and sharp shark tooth dangling in a seaweed necklace. He swung the Damascus blade toward the exposed neck from a blind spot, but somehow the prey managed to dodge the blow at the last moment. A small scratch and a dropped tooth on the ground were the only consolation prize, but that still seemed to create an imbalance in the prey. The man seemed enraged and offended more by the loss of his symbol of honour than by the attempt on his life.

The ironborn shark level [8] counterattacked with a respectable exchange of blows. The fight became more and more entertaining after each exchange... the hunger grew along with Bloody Snow's smile. He wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as possible, but there was one problem...his true prey was getting too far away. Balon Greyjoy was backing away too far... the sea hare wanted to try and escape in his claws!

In a killing frenzy, the boy reluctantly used the obvious advantage against his opponent. His right side was blind and still lacking adequate cover. Six exchanges were all it took to force the man to his knees with one arm too injured to be lifted and another trying in vain to stop severe bleeding on his belly. The man raised his head proudly, waiting for the final blow.

A cruel smile radiated in the demon's face that seemed inspired by something. The left blade slipped and picked up a sharp tooth on the floor.

The predator seemed to know exactly where to store that missing puzzle piece.

The tooth quickly approached the remaining healthy eye of the warrior, caught off guard by that cruel and dishonourable gesture.

'No!' the hand froze at the last moment, trembling.

[Yes, it is! Do it! Push him into that orbit! Make him taste the terror and despair! Do it, boy!]

The boy gasped in indecision.

[What are you waiting for?! Balon is escaping! Hurry up and finish him off! ACT!!!]

End POV.

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POV: Ardan 'Shark's Tooth'

Main Corridor, Sea Tower, Pyke.

About a second after a tooth was picked up...

Ardan had given his all in that fight, but the enemy was unstoppable. He was already aware that he had no chance in front of that demon. So the goal was to hinder that demon as long as possible and give his king enough time to retreat.

He had lost too much blood; he no longer had the strength to fight and oppose the fate that awaited him. With his one remaining eye, he caught a glimpse of Balon climbing over the wall of corpses of his fallen comrades. Soon that wall would rise another foot with his body.

Attention turned again to the demon.

'Long live King Balon! Let that which is dead never die' was all Ardan could think, unable to voice those words.

His attention turned again to the individual in front of him. Furthermore, the demon seemed to want to make havoc on him with his symbol of honour.

'So this is how I will die...', not even the anger or contempt he felt could be manifested. Ardan closed his one remaining eye, waiting for the inevitable bitter end...

But the pain didn't come, far from it. A warm, invigorating vitality slowly slipped from his eye to his belly. Opening his eyes, he could see a faint, dying green glow that faded away an instant later.

The pain in his side had subsided considerably. An object was placed in the weak hand of the injured arm. Ardan lowered his gaze, and his tooth was there; he clenched his fingers greedily, grasped his honour symbol and looked up. Only then did the man realize that somehow his vision was no longer half-obscured...

'My eye... my eye is healed!' thought Ardan incredulously, wondering if this was all a figment of his imagination.

Bloody Snow's face was very different from before... as if a foreign individual had replaced him. Those were the eyes of a boy, a frightened, hesitant, regretful and exhausted boy.

His only free hand rested on the sword's hilt, pointed at the ground for support.

"Anf... Anf... The battle is over, Ser... Anf... Your king has fled, and mine has just arrived... Lay down your weapons and surrender. There is no longer any reason to shed more blood." Said the boy in a quieter voice and on the verge of fainting at any moment by casting a glance to his left side.

Ardan turned his gaze in the direction indicated.

The white shields and golden armour were dirty and bloodstained but easily recognizable. The two royal guards paved the way for a massive metal figure adorned with two conspicuous pairs of horns, and beside it, a helmetless Nordic man with a banner behind a grey wolf on a white field.

Robert Baratheon had come to put an end to the Rebellion.

End Chapter.

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