Bab 43: Chapter 37 - Unity Against Arrogance P1
5 AC
Aryslonye (Sunspear)
Eckard
Young Eckard stood in the middle of a long line of eager recruits waiting outside the enlistment centre, hoping to enlist in the Ducal Army. With brown locks of hair, blue eyes, a chiselled jaw and flat nose, he would otherwise be an unremarkable foreigner in a long line of Greenblood Dornians… if not for the fact his eyes were crimson red.
As far as anyone knew, not even the Valyrians had such striking red eyes, and for that reason anyone who saw his eyes would instantly be taken aback.
Eckard could hardly care less. He spent at least four years learning everything he could in the vocational schools: Mathematics, geography, social studies, science and so on. Everything he felt was necessary to fulfil his lifelong ambition.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
He heard this question for the umpteenth time ever since his arrival in Dorne - or Dornia as they called it now - and turned to face the person in question: A young Greenblood Dornian boy with the trademark brown skin and curly brown hair, looking exceptionally skinny compared to most boys his age. He looked as timid as a mouse and equally impoverished, his own clothes little better than rags with discoloured patches.
"No I'm not," Eckard replied routinely to this specific question, "I'm from the North."
"From Sonaria, eh? Don't really see your type around here," The Dornian boy answered, "Why come so far south?"
"Is that your business?" Eckard was getting a bit annoyed.
"No! No, I was just curious," The boy muttered quickly, leaning back slightly, "I mean, we don't ever get Northmen visitors or such."
"...Fair point," Eckard admitted, "What about you? You don't look fit for a soldier's life."
"No, I don't," Said the Dornian boy, "But I need a soldier's pay."
"They pay their troops well?" Asked Eckard, interested in the conversation for once.
As far as Eckard knew, soldiers in any army always got terrible pay, and had to turn to looting to supplement their income or pray for a generous increase of payment from more benevolent commanders.
"That, and they give benefits too," Replied the Dornian boy, "They offer free medical care for both troops and their families, payment bonuses if we sign on, and guaranteed pensions when we retire [1]. Just to name three."
Eckard let out a whistle of appreciation, "No army ever offers such benefits. Least of all my home; we'd be lucky if we got more than a silver for a month's pay."
"That's Dornia for you. Here we got plenty of gold to throw around," The Dornian boy smiled, "What about you? Why join the army?"
"Education," Eckard answered, "I want to take up at least one or two courses they offer once I pass basic training."
"Me too! What a coincidence!" The Dornian boy exclaimed.
"Hey, don't hold up the line!" One of the recruiters warned.
The boys said their apologies and quickly moved up the line.
"By the way, I never got your name," The Dornian boy said, "I mean, if we happen to get into the same unit, might as well get to know each other's names."
"I'm Eckard," Eckard answered.
"Oberyn," The Dornian boy introduced himself.
And the boys shook hands.
IIOII
As fate would have it, the two boys Eckard and Oberyn were assigned to the same platoon once they filled out the necessary paperwork, sharing the same bunk bed [2]. They had their heads shaved bald, following the tradition for all new recruits, though Eckard grumbled a little under his breath for having to lose his hair. Afterwards they swore an oath of fealty and diligence to the army - which Eckard felt was rather unnecessary.
With their heads shaved and oaths sworn, they were placed in a briefing room and made to wait for their drill sergeant. Many exchanged light-hearted chatter, some bragging about basic training being a walk in the farm [3] and others being slightly more reserved.
Soon, the drill sergeant made her appearance.
A Greenblood Dornian like Oberyn, she stood mightily tall and intimidating, her arms crossed and her back exceedingly straight like an arrow. Her eyes - concealed by her strange-looking flat-brimmed hat [4] - held a maniacal energy that made Eckard cautious.
"Recruits!" She bellowed at the top of her voice, "Attention!"
Her voice rang like a dragon's roar, and instantly all the new recruits stood at attention and kept quiet, even the ones bragging earlier.
"Listen up you lot of fucking maggots!" She cursed, "I am Staff Sergeant Meria Marlam of the 3rd Infantry Regiment, and I'm here as your Drill Instructor [5] to whip you all into shape as real soldiers! Whatever you were before, here you're all the same: Maggots who ain't worth shit in my eyes! All of you will learn to eat together, clean together, fight and bleed together and shit together! All of you are not individuals but men of a greater army! Do you understand!?"
Everyone stood straight as they shouted, "We understand!"
"All of you forgot something," Meria pointed out, "Whenever you address me, you address me as Sarge. You understand!?"
"Yes, Sarge!" The recruits chorused.
"Good! All of you have been assigned your bunks, you haven't gotten your uniforms. The uniform is what identifies a soldier as part of the army, what unit he belongs to! Wear it with pride, and wear it always within this camp, you understand?"
"Yes, Sarge!"
"Good, now go get your uniforms," Meria beckoned, "Follow Sergeant Deria and she'll lead you to where you're going next."
Eckard and Oberyn took this opportunity to exchange muted whispers along the way.
"I won't lie, that was pretty scary," Oberyn whispered.
"Tell me about it," Eckard nodded in agreement.
Soon they reached the warehouse where each recruit was given their uniforms - all measured according to their sizes - along with a marching kit of a rucksack, a sleeping bag and pillow and mattress covers. Each set of uniforms and camp clothing felt like a king's wardrobe to Eckard and Oberyn, who in their old lives often had to make do with less comfortable clothing of questionable quality.
Some of the other recruits - the braggers especially - smiled as they received their uniforms, eagerly looking forward to acing the training. Eckard cast glances of disapproval towards them but said and did nothing; like it or not, as Staff Sergeant Meria said: They were all in this together now.
Thus marked the beginning of their transition from smallfolk into the world of real soldiering.
IIOII
Munsrav (Bloodstone)
Elanzo Aresaryn
Lord High Admiral Elanzo Aresaryn, head of his house and Duke and Governor of the Archipelago province of Idosaea, sighed as he read the latest report, before shoving it aside for the clerks to take away and organise.
"Of course Volantene ships are intruding upon our waters. What else did we expect?" He muttered to himself as he shrugged, "They never liked the fact our own navies control trade on the Narrow Sea."
In the years that passed since Aegon's Conquest, Arin Rada organised countless projects aimed at improving infrastructure in every part of Dornia. Naturally, the Stepstones had their towns and ports upgraded with proper stone, brick and concrete; old defences were upgraded and new ones built, and their ports were bursting with new warships regularly patrolling their waters.
In recent years, Braavosi ships had taken to raiding Volantene slave caravans with impunity on land and at sea, and their fleets took the liberty of passing through Idosaea (The Stepstones) when the Volantenes gave chase.
Though there were many times the Volantenes requested - more like demanded - passage through Idosaea, looking down upon the Westerosi as they always have. Thus Dornia, and by extension Westeros, rejected their demands.
This time, in the sixth moon of this year, they mounted a direct attack on one of the patrolling fleets, seemingly as a demonstration of their power. The fifth Ducal Fleet repelled them, though they lost a fifth of their fleet as a consequence.
That was just one engagement, and now the Ducal Fleet was to undergo a baptism of fire. Having received Elanzo's report, Arin was swift to inform the Targaryens of this altercation, and in response Aegon declared a state of war between the Iron Throne and Volantis, the goal being to humiliate the Free City who believed itself superior to a 'backwater' continent.
"My Lord Aresaryn, the Volantene Navy is soon to reach our waters," An able seaman [6] reported, "Our fleets are in position, but it will take at least another week for the rest of Westeros' fleets to muster in preparation."
"So be it," Elanzo's voice was cold as steel, "Get my flagship ready. They shall pay the price for invading our waters."
IIOII
The Narrow Sea
Through the various Arsenals Arin had built closest to Aryslonye, the Ducal Fleets now comprised dozens of ships armed to the brim with armament and professional mariners. At their latest count, the Ducal Navy had a total of three hundred ships split across six fleets, with plans to further expand them to at least a hundred ships in each fleet.
Caravels, carracks and galleons, the Volantene galleys who sailed against Dornia would be shocked to find larger ships awaiting them.
At the heart of the fleets sailed Elanzo's flagship. It was a galleon named the Aeryrio, named after a legendary Braavosi admiral famed for his single-handed triumph against the slaver fleets of no fewer than three Free Cities, forever carving his name in the annals of history and solidifying the terrifying reputation of Braavos's fleets.
Leaning against the railing, Elanzo stroked his moustache thoughtfully, inspecting the demeanour of his sailors; many of them were confident, almost over-eager and spoiling for a fight - the unproven warriors of their generation. Others less so, silently shivering in cold sweat and muttering prayers to the Udohanar.
"My Lord, there are more fearful mariners than expected."
Elanzo's second-in-command, Fleet Admiral Jollos Hadnor, a Summer Islander by birth, stood beside him as he observed the fleet formation and nodded approvingly at the lack of mistakes in its deployment. At thirty-and-eight years old and a Summer Islander by birth, Jollos attained many years of valuable experience fighting all manner of pirate fleets, though he was exiled by political rivals jealous of his talents, and in a ritual duel he was forced to lose after his opponents used underhanded means to win against him.
"It is to be expected," Elanzo shrugged, "Dornia has never had a very powerful or distinguished navy in its history, and now that we've rapidly expanded our fleets, it's only natural more than half of them are fighting their very first naval battle."
Jollos nodded reluctantly, his facial scars throbbing with pain.
"There is no powerful navy without blood and sacrifice," He grumbled.
Elanzo nodded in agreement.
"My Lord! The Volantenes approach!" A mariner reported.
"Sound the bells and spread out!" Elanzo ordered, "Ready the ballistae and prepare to fire on my command!"
"Yes, My Lord! The mariner saluted, ringing the bell as sailors hoisted multi-coloured flags to signal the other fleets as per naval code.
As the fleets came closer, ballistae were readied and the fleets deployed in a circular formation. Closer and closer they sailed until they reached ballistae range.
The Dornians were the first to attack, releasing ballistae bolts tipped with barrels instead of steel heads. When broken, the barrels coated the Volantene decks with a thick, viscous black substance that let off a terribly rancid stench. Once their archers were in range, they loosed flaming arrows that ignited the thick substance - too fast and large for the Volantenes to extinguish.
Two dozen Volantene ships alone fell in the first few volleys.
Cheers rang out across the Dornian ships, before their training took over as the Volantene fleets returned fire, ballistae bolts damaging and sinking a few Dornian ships in retaliation.
From there it became a tactical game of divide-and-conquer as fleets from every side sought to chip at the other side's naval strength; some played a game of cat-and-mouse as smaller ships used their swift speed to evade their bulkier opponents. Eventually the Volantene fleet, overconfident in their victory, made the fatal mistake of bunching their ships too tightly together in an attempt to take down the Aryrio.
Elanzo looked at the encroaching fleet calmly.
"Send in the Fire Ships [7]!" He ordered.
Several ships with strange tubes sticking out their prows sailed forward, though not in preparation for a broadside as naval doctrine dictated. Once the fire ships reached firing range, however, they unleashed gouts of green fire from their prows, incinerating dozens of ships with eternal fire the sea cannot extinguish.
Jollos wiped away cold sweat from his forehead, "By the Udohanar! That wildfire [8] is as destructive as the pyromancers claim!"
"And His Lordship was correct in that wildfire has use at sea as much as on land," Elanzo chuckled heartily, "Truly, he has no shortage of wild ideas."
"I was more worried the wildfire would incinerate our own ships instead," Jollos argued.
"Oh yes, some prototypes did sink as a result of improper handling and poorly constructed storage containers," Elanzo remarked to which Jollos blanched, "Then again, there is no success without failure, and no victory without a price"
"Well, I cannot complain about the results it delivers," Jollos admitted, seeing little point in arguing further with the man.
The battle soon reached its climax. Though the Volantenes had more experienced officers, superior Dornian tactics, technology and training prevailed, and the Volantenes lost over half their navy in the ensuing engagement. Thus the Dornians scored first blood against a more organised and experienced enemy fleet, building confidence in its new generation of mariners and cementing the effectiveness of its new doctrine.
"We won, My Lord! The day is ours!" Jollos exclaimed, "Oh, I sometimes wish I had such a mighty navy back home!"
Elanzo simply shrugged.
"Tally up our casualties and send the damaged ships back for repair, while the rest of our fleet muster in preparation for the Royal Fleets' arrival," He ordered.
"Then we take the fight to them," Jollos smiled.
IIOII
Aegon Targaryen
Ras Nymerae, or Castle Nymeria in Rhoynish, was the centre of the government of Munsrav, of the Dominion of Idosaea. Formerly the ruins of a pirate stronghold - more a luxurious nobleman's manse - it was reduced to rubble in Arin's conquest of the Stepstones.
Built with the latest advances in Rhoynish construction technology, Ras Nymerae boasted tall, thick walls, flanked by stout towers bristling with artillery and defended by a garrison of disciplined troops housed in the nearby barracks. Large ports and dockyards of stone accommodated throngs of galleons. The indoors bazaar housed countless merchants hawking wares and bartering prices, come rain or shine.
Here Elanzo Aresaryn and Jollos received the Targaryens with all due hospitality, kneeling before them as servants offered platters of bread and salt for them to partake. The Targaryens broke off pieces and dipped them in salt, eating them with nods of approval.
"I must admit your Ducal Fleets have earned a name for themselves," Aegon remarked approvingly, "Though it is but one battle in this war."
"We are aware, Your Grace," Elanzo nodded as he and Jollos stood up, "We stand ready to take the fight to them."
"As is to be expected," Visenya grudgingly affirmed, "The men of Grand Duke Rada work exceptionally well."
"Let us discuss more in the war room, Your Graces," Elanzo offered.
"As you say," Rhaenys said.
They soon presided over a map of the Summer Sea and the nearby Essosi Free Cities, different tokens displaying the position of the Volantene and Westerosi fleets.
"Our spies delivered us reports that the Volantene navy has suffered heavy losses, and despite the best efforts of their diplomats, not a single one of the other Free Cities has lifted a finger to help them. Therefore the naval war is a foregone conclusion," Aegon stated, placing several tokens closer to the shores of Volantis, "They have also brought back reports of your new fire ships to their masters, so we must expect them to deploy their fleets in more dispersed formations."
"Then we will simply demonstrate our newfound might for the world to see," Elanzo pointed out, moving several tokens to display Westerosi ships surrounding Essosi ones, "They fought well despite lacking Braavosi expertise, but we have both dragons and superior numbers on our side."
"Indeed, and considering that their armies are incomparable to ours, the war is as good as won," Suggested Jollos, "Though considering that the Archons of Volantis are infamous for their inflated ego and arrogance, they may still foolishly believe in a chance for victory."
"I would not be surprised if that was the case," Rhaenys pointed out, "Lord High Admiral, have your people devised a plan to conquer the Black Walls?"
"We have, Your Grace," Elanzo bowed, unfurling a scroll that showed blueprints of a type of siege tower.
At first glance, it looked like any ordinary siege tower, save that there was depictions of boulders and a ramp and many other calculations and numbers that proved too intricate and complicated for the Targaryens to understand. Yet they had to admit, it was far more detailed than any blueprints they saw in their lifetime.
"These are specialized siege towers aimed at creating another way onto the top of the Black Walls, built and designed by Dornian hands," Elanzo asserted with pride, "Any and all fools who sieged Volantis and claimed the invulnerability of their walls have simply never found another way."
"Exactly how will they work, though?" Asked Visenya, "The Black Walls are exceptionally tall, and no ladder or siege tower has ever been able to breach the top ramparts. No siege tower has been able to reach that height either, due to the design challenges."
"They simply did not think to apply the basic principles of science, Your Grace," Elanzo stated to their confusion.
"Science?" Asked Rhaenys.
"A new field of knowledge pioneered by our intellectuals," Jollos answered, "Beg your pardon, but I believe we are getting off-track."
"Yes, we are," Aegon acknowledged, "How long will it take to prepare these towers?"
"Give or take, roughly one to two months, Your Grace," Elanzo stated, "There will be some parts of the design that necessiate extra work and inspection to ensure their functionality."
"Very well, do what you need, but I want these towers ready by the time we have the Black Walls surrounded," Aegon ordered.
"By your will, Your Grace," Elanzo bowed.
[1] Thanks to Arin's generous stipends from his bursting treasury filled with Lannister gold, the military enjoys significant benefits paid from his own pocket, engendering troop loyalty through their string purses.
[2] Bunk Bed - A new type of furniture designed exclusively for use in military barracks in Dornia, which was just two beds put on top of another, a small ladder provided to reach the bed on top.
[3] Many who believed basic training in the Dornian military was easy soon found themselves rueing the day they believed so; the training regime was devised by Arin Rada himself, made to test the Human body to the absolute limit and train unit endurance, cohesion and discipline.
[4] The Campaign Hat was designed for exclusive wear by the Drill Sergeants of the Dornian military - a flat-brimmed hat with a pointed top. It has both symbolic and practical uses, designed to shield the face from the hot sun.
[5] Drill Instructor - A title given to a non-commissioned officer (sergeants below the rank of lieutenant) in the armed forces of Dornia, and typically teach foot drill, military step and marching alongside physical and combat training.
[6] Able Seaman - The lowest rank of any mariner in the Ducal Navy. They are primarily responsible for ensuring that all equipment on board is functioning correctly, following safety measures and maintaining ship cleanliness, and for loading or unloading of cargo whenever necessary.
[7] Fire Ships - A new type of ship designed specifically for using wildfire at sea, using only two nozzles at the prow to fire jets of green flames. Due to the volatile nature of wildfire, utmost care is taken with its special storage facilities, and the nozzles are only aimed at the front, never the sides.
Glass was the preferred material for transfer, but ordinary glass would shatter when thrown about too hard, and at sea the waves could cause enough jostling for the jars to crash, causing a catastrophic explosion.
Arin's solution was to use enchanted glass, specially made to withstand harsh impacts as easily as stone or brick, to transport wildfire aboard the ships in large jars. As for the nozzles and pipes themselves, they were made of enchanted steel to prolong their lifespan after prolonged exposure, though this meant they had to be changed every several months or whenever the nozzles were at risk of melting.
[8] Wildfire - A volatile, flammable liquid that burns for a very long time once set on fire. First created by the Alchemist's Guild, it seeps into any and all material and burns it eventually, even steel and clay. Most times it is stored in clay jars to prevent seepage, though the containers themselves are gradually affected. Its creation process is a closely guarded secret.
When Arin Rada first learned of the substance, he hired (fleeced) several alchemists to come to Dornia to work for him, paying for their accommodation and many other things in exchange for training a new generation of alchemists to work solely in Dornia. Instead of clay, they used jars of glass which proved nigh impervious to wildfire seepage.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone