Skyrim System In Westeros

The Stepstones faced imminent war, and the once-bustling ports of Tyrosh had grown eerily quiet. Pirates and mercenaries, who usually crowded the city, had begun to disperse. The mercenaries moved inland to Essos, seizing the opportunity to trade weapons amidst the brewing conflict. The pirates either retreated to their strongholds in the Stepstones or donned new uniforms, blending into the navies of Dorne and various Free Cities.

The ruler of Tyrosh, known as the Archon, was frantically attempting to rally support but met with little success. The Seven Kingdoms had united their forces to attack Tyrosh, leaving the city woefully unprepared. The warning came abruptly, giving the Tyroshi less than two weeks before the fleet's arrival. Tyrosh lacked sufficient warships and manpower, and reinforcements from other Free Cities were unlikely to arrive in time. The city's stockpiles of food and weapons were barely enough to sustain a peacetime month, let alone the demands of a siege. Should refugees flood the city during the conflict, supplies would last less than a fortnight.

The Archon sought to hire local mercenary bands to bolster his defenses. At first, these leaders confidently pledged their loyalty, some even signing contracts and accepting advance payments. Yet, as soon as they returned to the harbor, they vanished along with their ships. Only the notorious mercenary company, the Company of the Cat, led by Bloodbeard, accepted the contract. However, their involvement was limited to transporting supplies rather than participating in battles.

Even Prince Oberyn of Dorne, once a close ally, now led Dornish forces against Tyrosh. Although Oberyn assured the Archon that Dornish ships would only engage in symbolic skirmishes, refraining from true conflict, the Dornish fleet was small and offered limited reassurance. Oberyn had promised to introduce new allies, but none had materialized. Appeals for aid from Myr and Lys were met with exorbitant demands. The Archon begrudgingly agreed to their terms, offering substantial advance payments. As for the remaining balance, he planned to deplete their forces during the war, rendering their claims void. Maintaining control of Tyrosh was his sole priority, even at the cost of his reputation.

"Once Tyrosh falls to the Seven Kingdoms, Myr and Lys will be next! Then the rest of the Nine Free Cities! Blind, shortsighted fools!" the Archon fumed, pacing the palace halls in frustration. He berated his aides when a man entered the room unannounced.

The newcomer wore luxurious clothing, adorned with a black iron crown supported by two embroidered ravens on his chest. His hair cascaded to his shoulders, and his movements were relaxed, almost mocking. His eyes wandered toward the palace maidens as he surveyed the room.

Recognizing the man, the Archon addressed him sharply. "Euron Greyjoy, what brings you here at such a time?"

Euron, his piercing blue eye gleaming, responded with a smirk. "I've come to help you fight your war, of course."

The Archon, well-acquainted with Euron's reputation, raised an eyebrow. "And what do you gain from this act of charity?"

Euron's smile widened. "Wealth. My men need to eat, after all."

The Archon knew of Euron's recent exploits. The man had ventured into the Smoking Sea, losing several ships and much of his equipment. Yet upon his return, Euron demonstrated unparalleled naval prowess, uniting various pirate factions under his banner. Declaring himself the King of Salt and Rock, a title long abandoned, Euron now commanded half the pirate fleet of the Stepstones.

"Well then, Captain Euron, Tyrosh is grateful for your assistance. I promise your fleet will be exempt from taxes on any spoils taken from the Seven Kingdoms during the war. Additionally, your men will receive a tenth of all plunder after our victory."

Euron chuckled. "A tenth is fair. But I have one more condition: I want to be named Admiral of the Tyroshi Fleet."

"Done!" the Archon agreed without hesitation. Tyrosh had no formal naval command structure; its fleet was directly managed by the Archon through various captains. The title of Admiral was meaningless in practical terms but satisfied Euron's ambitions.

As the two concluded their agreement, another group entered the hall. Their attire was diverse, yet their coordinated movements suggested a unified purpose. The guards, recognizing their importance, allowed them to pass without introduction.

The Archon scrutinized the newcomers, his curiosity piqued. The leader, an elderly man with silver-gray hair and armor to match, carried himself with rigid authority despite his advanced age.

Before anyone could speak, Euron Greyjoy, ever the brash pirate, ignored all formalities and interrupted, "Valyrian steel weapons? I used to own one myself!" His greedy eyes locked onto the scarred, muscular man standing behind the elderly leader. The man's hand rested protectively on the smoky-gray arakh at his waist, a Valyrian steel blade. Though he glared at Euron with hostility, he fulfilled his duty, introducing his leader to the Archon.

"This is the founder and leader of our company, the tattered Prince."

The elderly man ignored Euron entirely. His mercenary company operated on land and prided itself on disciplined, military-style operations, harboring disdain for sea-faring pirates.

"Archon of Tyrosh, I am here at the invitation of Prince Oberyn to assist your city," the Tattered Prince said.

The Archon immediately rose and shook the man's hand. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

The Tattered Prince's company, the Windblown, was one of the most formidable mercenary companies in the Disputed Lands, second only to the Golden Company across all of Essos. Unlike the smaller bands that frequented Tyrosh, their reputation was untouchable. Though the Tattered Prince's name was well-known throughout the Stepstones, few had seen him in person.

The Tattered Prince himself had a storied past. Once a noble of Pentos, he had been chosen as a sacrifice when the city's previous prince was executed in a blood rite. Aware of his grim fate, he fled Pentos at the age of three-and-twenty, founding his mercenary company with a few trusted companions in the Disputed Lands.

"We are not skilled in naval warfare," the Tattered Prince stated plainly. "But we will help you defend Tyrosh. According to Prince Oberyn's intelligence, the Seven Kingdoms' fleet is embarking on a long expedition. Overconfident due to their numbers, the lords have carried minimal supplies. If Tyrosh holds out, they will fail."

The Archon, deeply relieved, expressed his gratitude. "Thank you, Tattered Prince, and my thanks to Prince Oberyn as well. What will your company's fee be for this endeavor?"

The Tattered Prince handed over a contract. "The price is fair. However, I will require a written agreement from you: when I march on Pentos in the future, Tyrosh must deploy its navy to assist me."

"Fair enough," the Archon agreed without hesitation. "If you help us hold Tyrosh for even a short time, our fleet will return, and we will win this war. Afterward, I'll aid you in your campaign against Pentos!" Desperation made him willing to promise anything.

The Archon then unfurled a piece of parchment for all to see. "This is a secret letter from Prince Oberyn, detailing a method to counter the sorcery of the Seven Kingdoms' mages. With this and your aid, we will surely defend Tyrosh!"

Euron grabbed the parchment and scanned its contents. Calling silently to the Drowned God beneath his eyepatch, he received no response. Interpreting the silence as consent, Euron turned to the Archon. "This will help us deal with the other mages of the Seven Kingdoms, but if we encounter Wright Baratheon, my fleet will retreat immediately."

"Coward!"

"Spineless fool! Hahaha!"

The Windblown's mercenaries burst into mocking laughter.

Euron ignored them, his mind flashing back to a terrifying encounter with Wright Baratheon. He remembered being pinned by icy spikes, his vision dimming as the Daedric Prince Hermaeus Mora emerged from his eye. Consciousness had abandoned him soon after, and when he awoke in the Drowned God's realm, he had been irrevocably changed.

Though the Drowned God had saved him, the deity's demeanor was cold and indifferent. The only command Euron received was to pursue knowledge, for knowledge was power. Devoted and determined, Euron emerged from his trials a zealous follower of the Drowned God, rebuilding his fleet and strengthening it with the lessons he had learned in the abyss.

Yet Euron understood the truth: the gods would not protect him forever. He needed to prove his worth. Until he found a way to counter Wright Baratheon's power, avoiding him was the only strategy.

Turning back to the Windblown with a sinister grin, Euron said, "You'd better pray Wright Baratheon doesn't join this fight. If he does, let's hope none of you soil your breeches when he arrives!"

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