15th of 5th Moon, 8025

Siege Camp outside of Castle Greenfield

Vaemond stood outside his tent, fully armored in black plate watching as the sun's morning rays spread over the surrounding grassy hills, shining with dew.

All around him the camp was stirring, cookfires were being prepared for breakfast, while other men were seeing to their arms and armor, which they would soon need for today would be a day of battle.

The momentum of the war had shifted nearly overnight with the entrance of the Knights of the Reach into the war. The Lannisters had gone from preparing a decisive campaign to strike east against Kings Landing to suddenly having to shift to the defensive.

Vaemond had been on his way from Storms End to meet up with his new host of some 10,000 Crownlanders when he had heard the news, Ser Harold Langward proclaiming that the rose of victory had finally bloomed, and Vaemond had to agree with him.

In addition to the Reach’s entrance into the war, the Dornish were finally clear of the Princes Pass, and were marching some 12,000 men towards Casterly Rock, while the Ironborn skulked about in the area as well, things were looking good for the Targaryens.

Vaemond still needed a victory however. The Tyrells were planning to raise 3 hosts, one to assist the Dornish in sieging Casterly Rock, another of some 13,000 men was already on its way to assist Vaemond in the southern Westerlands, while the final host, which Theo Tyrell had promised would exceed twenty thousand men, was being raised in Highgarden.

It would take time for these hosts to be raised however, and Vaemond still needed a victory, the war had raged on for a good while and Loren Lannister still held every holding of his self proclaimed Kingdom of the Rock, something Vaemond was determined to change.

His Uncle Orys had the right of it before he was killed in a skirmish in the area. The best way into the Westerlands was from the relatively flat southern grasslands and hills. The Tullys had been foolish to attack through the mountainous west, but Vaemond liked his chances much better, in large part due to the fact the Lannisters would likely not oppose him as they would risk being caught in between the Dornish and the approaching Reach hosts, the area was ripe for the taking.

There had been many options on where to launch the first strike against the Westerlands among them Payne Hall, Peckledon, Riverspring or Cornfield, the seat of the Lorens foremost general. Vaemond eventually settled on the small castle of Greenfield. Even in the context of an ongoing war, Lorens' vassals still feuded with each other, and the Greenfields were embroiled in a conflict with the Swyfts of Cornfield, their liege lords, taking most of their men and leaving the castle lightly garrisoned.

The King would have normally preferred to siege the castle into submission, but he knew he needed a victory and he needed it soon to show that the Lannisters were well and truly on the back foot and losing their lands, even with the Reaches entrance into the war, the North could match their manpower with some 40,000 men, Vaemond needed the victory soon and had resolved to assault the castle.

Even with the large part of the Greenfield levies being gone, the castle had word of their approach and had managed to garrison some 700 men inside the castle walls, many of them would be peasants, but there would be a sizeable number of hardened household guards and men-at-arms on the walls as well.

Corlys Velaryon joined him, fully armored in white enameled plate and a snowy white cloak, in stark contrast to Vaemonds midnight black plate armor, studded with rubies, behind him came Ser Harold Langward, whos brown hair was streaked with white, and Ser Roland Crakehall, holding his fearsome longax.

‘’It's time for Corlys.’’ Vaemond said curtly. He had decided on a morning assault the time when much of the garrison would be groggy from sleep and breaking their fast. He hoped the scene of the majority of his own army sitting at cook fires would further lull his opponents into a false sense of security.

He would not be attacking with all of his 10,000 men, but rather 2000 of his best warriors, chiefly knights and men-at-arms, many of them veterans of Edgerton and the Whispers. He had his men construct wooden scaling ladders from behind the privacy of the surrounding hills to further obscure his plans.

Corlys nodded, they had the 2000 man assault party spread out throughout the camp rather than gathered together to mask their intention so the garrison would not see all of them armed and armored at the same place.

‘’When I give the order…..there's no going back, when they see us bringing the ladders from behind the hills they will see our intentions, groggy or not….we have one chance to catch them by surprise.’’ Corlys cautioned.

Vaemond nodded and pulled on his black greathelm ‘’Give the order.’’

Corlys waved his hand around his head, and a man on one of the timber watchtowers gave three loud blasts with his trumpet.

They moved fast, the scaling party holding the wooden ladders appeared from behind the nearby hills. They were unseen as they moved through the bustle of the camp, but immediately after they left the siege camp towards the walls the defenders of Greenfield shouted alarms and sounded their own horns, Vaemond and his three Kingsguard joined the warriors from the camp, charging forth and massing together to assault the walls.

They faced heavy fire as they charged towards the stone walls of Greenfield, quarrels and arrows filling the air and dropping many of the men holding the ladders, but whenever any fell, another took their place.

Vaemond was reminded of his sister's dream and pushed it from his mind, when in the midst of battle, any doubts or fears could mean one's death.

They attacked from 2 directions, the center of the castle to the sides of the gatehouse and the left wall, Vaemond and his kingsguard would join the assault on the front gatehouse wall, where the fighting would be thickest, such was the place a King's leadership was needed most.

Stepping over corpses and wounded men alike, Vaemond at last made it to the castle walls, where his men had laid the scaling ladders and were climbing onto the ramparts, where a melee was already underway. In opposition to the fierce volleys they had faced approaching the castle, they faced little resistance climbing the walls, with only the occasional stone and no boiling oil being dropped on them, Vaemond guessed they had well and truly taken the defenders by surprise before they could prepare a determined defense.

The King was first among his Kingsguard scaling the ladder, with Corlys and Ser Harold close behind him, Ser Roland Crakehall brought up the rear as if the big man fell he would likely take them all down with him.

They found the melee already underway on the battlements when they pulled themselves up and wasted no time in joining the fray.

A defender in a padded cloth gambeson with an ax and shield stood in their way, but Ser Harold, who had taken the forefront position bowled him over with a charging shield bash, and they continued on to the gatehouse.

A halbadier in plate armor in front of the King in the front row, one of Vaemonds men fell to the floor wounded, his arm a mess of blood and bone, Vaemond took his place in the front, Ser Harold and Ser Corlys at his side while Ser Roland watched their rear.

A peasant with a longbow who had became caught in the melee nocked an arrow, jostled from all sides but nevertheless he managed to get up the bow and aim it at the front rank but Ser Harold Langward took him in the side of the head with a ferocious hack of his sword.

They continued to fight their way into the gatehouse itself. A spearman thrust his weapon forward at Vaemond, who managed to get up his shield just in time, catching the spearpoint between the heavy wood and the metal plating. The man at arms saw where this was heading and quickly dropped the spear, leaving it stuck in the shield and fleeing.

Vaemond cursed and dropped his now useless shield and continued on.

They were well into the gatehouse by now, Corlys Velaryon, fighting with just a longsword thrust his sword forward into the neck of a spearman, clearing the way forward.

Most of the gatehouse had fallen, but there was a set of wooden stairs leading to the top of the gatehouse tower, where the King could hear shouts of defenders up above.

He could not shout over the noise of the melee so he gestured Blackfyre towards the stairs to his Kingsguard who nodded, he made his way to the stairs, making the first turn and then felt a blinding flash of pain in his neck, causing him to cry out in pain.

He stumbled backwards, tumbling down the stairs, seeing a crossbowman who had been waiting at the top of the stairs reloading.

Vaemond at last came to a rest at the foot of the stairs, caught by Ser Roland who laid him down.

If it had been an arrow it likely would not have troubled him much, but the crossbow had been shot at a close range and had punched through his black plate gorget. The armor had been enough to divert the strike a few inches to the left from puncturing his throat, but the quarrel was embedded within the flesh of the King's neck.

‘’THE KING IS WOUNDED.’’ Ser Roland screamed, cradling the King to his chest and reciting a prayer to the warrior.

Vaemond felt hot blood running down his neck, the sounds of the fighting and Ser Rolands words growing fainter and fainter until at last all went black.