Chapter 10 Part 4
AN: Do note that all things considered, the Targaryens and Astapor in general got away lightly. They were attacked by over 1500 frenzied monsters and Ironborn with no warning, catching a lot of people at the docks unable to flee or effectively fight back. Two six ship Ironborn squadrons led by the Silence could pack up to 1300 Ironborn, and while the number of reavers was lower, holds full of hibernating monsters more than made up for it.
Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire, the Game of Throne or the Star Wars books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not for sale or rent.
291 AC
Astapor
Sunrise illuminated a subdued city. Cries and wails from people who lost family and loved ones carried over Astapor. Unsullied units and the City Guard marched through the city, locking down sections of it and searching for stragglers.
Viserys couldn't sense any more of the madmen or Sithspawn running amok. However, he was in no mood to take chances. Last night had been entirely too close for his liking. The magical mist came as a nasty surprise. Without his presence, it would have crippled Astapor's defenses to such a degree the docks would have been entirely lost before anyone was the wiser. It also allowed for a strike team to sneak into his home unnoticed. He examined the side of the pyramid through which the enemy had infiltrated and the nearby security posts. Without the fog, they wouldn't have been able to get in unseen, even in the dead of night.
Four Royal Guards dragged another Ironborn into Dany's chamber, and Marwyn walked behind them. The Maester looked like death warmed over again. His robes were wet with spots of fresh, still-drying blood.
"We've patched up all the wounded. There are surprisingly few of them, and it wasn't for a lack of trying. Those weapons the demons used? They're poisoned. Everyone we know of wounded by them died before sunrise. It's nasty." the Maester reported. "How is the Princess?"
"My sister will recover. Observing my magic was a part of our deal, was it not?" Viserys glowered at the prisoner.
Marwyn perked up at that.
The Ironborn felt hollow and, contrary to earlier, offered no resistance whatsoever. The best comparison Viserys could make was to someone repeatedly mind-fucked in a rough way, just not roughly enough at a time to make their brain leak out of their ears. The personality of the man was gone, shattered by whatever magic drove him into a killing frenzy last night. Viserys pushed into the Ironborn's hollow mind, fishing for any scrap of information.
Kill! Kill! Kill! The Iron Price! Kill! Kill! Kill!
The only thing coherent left was a memory of what the Ironborn had been chanting in his mind. However, he lacked the capacity to understand, much less obey, such a directive.
He could still remember how to breathe and walk around if guided, but there was no conscious understanding of what was happening, who he was, or where he was. There was simply no one home anymore.
The rest of the man's memories were buried deep and resembled a shattered mosaic. Viserys could get glimpses of fights in towns and villages, presumably in Westeros. The only connections he could trace were to killing and paying the Iron Price. When he tried to find anything else, there was no connection the Ironborn mind could make. If those memories were still in his brain, they were disconnected.
The Ironborn was useless from an intelligence-gathering perspective like the last four prisoners Viserys went through that morning. The Prince pulled out of the man's destroyed mind and drew on the Dark Side. The Ironborn's life force was duller, reduced from what it should have been, likely a direct consequence of last night. Still, there was enough of it left to make draining it worth the effort.
Viserys raised his left hand at the prisoner, clawed at his life force, and tore it out of his body. There was not even a hint of resistance. The man collapsed as the life drained out of him, desiccating within moments until he resembled an ancient mummy. Viserys pulled the life energy within himself and channeled it into Dany, guiding it to speed up her recovery. Torn flesh knit together, finally fully healing the internal tears around her ribs instead of merely patching them enough not to bleed. Bones knit together, stimulating days' worth of healing within moments. As soon as the stolen vitality ran out, Viserys ceased the healing and let go of the Force. He leaned back on the chair he sat on beside Dany's bed and waited for the burn in his cells to cool down. He had been pushing himself too much since last night without letting his body properly cool or recover.
"Keep the remaining prisoners alive for now. I'll deal with them in a few days," Viserys waved his Unsullied away.
"This was incredible!" Marwyn gushed. His eyes roamed over the dead Ironborn before jumping to Viserys. "Was this merely an execution or more?" He looked speculatively between the Prince and Princess.
"I used his vitality, his very life, to speed up Dany's healing," Viserys admitted. "As you can see, the process is inefficient. Otherwise, I could have fully healed her by sacrificing only one of the bastards. Instead, everyone accounts for less than a week spent mending naturally."
Marwyn looked between the corpse being dragged away and Daenerys.
"That can be the difference between life and death! There are so many injuries that kill before the body can heal itself! Infection aside, keeping someone wounded alive for a few days longer can make all the difference, and you can do it within moments!"
"It's quite draining on me too, and we need expendable prisoners who are going to die anyway as medical supplies," Viserys noted. He was right about Marwyn; the Maester was cut off from the same cloth as many crazy Imperial scientists he had worked with over the years.
"It is revolutionary!" Marwyn gushed.
"You need to be born with the ability to use this kind of magic, then spend years training on how to do it without going insane. I've sensed no one else who could be taught in Pentos or Astapor. To say that such people are exceedingly rare is a charming understatement."
Marwyn made a pained sound at that. Viserys had already explained the realities of the situation before, but this was the first time he demonstrated this much of what the Force could do.
"After you rest, I need you to examine the monsters that attacked us. The corrosive venom they spat was bad enough. From what I saw, stab wounds were far less effective on them than they should have been," Viserys suggested.
"I'll see to it! I'll need a well-lit, secure place to do autopsies. From the accounts I got, the place shouldn't have anyone else around if I make a mistake. There's no need to poison other people without a need!" the gleam was back in Marwyn's eyes.
In the light of day, the docks were a complete and utter mess, fully revealing the scale of the attack. Kaleb and Rusty Nail – the Unsullied commander in charge of the legion protecting the area for the week, were both alive. The Captain was out with one of the squadrons on patrol, overseeing hands-on training of our first batch of new crews and officers. Rusty Nail had been in the main Unsullied barracks with half his legion, resting while the rest were deployed on a night shift at the harbor. If it wasn't for Viserys' paranoia, the defenses at night would have been weaker, allowing the attackers to run wild for much longer before they were contained.
It was clear that Sithspawn and Ironborn alike subscribed to the adage of kill and pillage, then burn. Casualties at the docks were extreme, though the infrastructure there was mostly intact. Ironically enough, Viserys caused the most damage when he sensed Dany was in danger, and his control slipped. Four warehouses, six houses, and two shops were little more than rubble, and with them went a lot of supplies needed to repair or build ships. In that regard, it was excellent that most shipwrights didn't live beside the docks. Otherwise, the loss of skilled labor would have been crippling.
The ships docked when the attack began were mostly intact. Only two burned down due to lanterns and torches falling and igniting them when the enemy stormed on board. That was the one regard the fog and calm weather last night helped with – they prevented the fire from spreading before people could do something about it. One of Viserys' trade ships and a vessel from Telos were gone with their whole crews.
Almost every vessel in the harbor lost up to three-quarters of their crews. In contrast, a handful of ships had most of their companies intact due to visiting pleasure houses, taverns, and relatives deeper into the city.
Viserys had thirteen Ironborn galleys to replace the lost and damaged ships, which was a net plus in that regard. He would need months, if not over a year, to train skeleton crews as replacements. The ships under construction would likely have to wait longer for their shakedown cruises, much less have full crew complements.
"Four hundred and fifteen of my men are dead," Rusty Nail reported after visiting the Temple of the Graces. "Fifty are currently missing, and forty-one are wounded. Half of them are crippled."
Up to half a legion in permanent casualties among the Unsullied then, and those were just from the Rusty Nail's legion. At least forty died at the pyramid, and one century from the Bronze Harpy's unit got gutted, intercepting an incursion deeper into the city.
The City Guard casualties were in the hundreds as well. Viserys saw the corpses of many liberated slaves who fought as well. Then, the dock hands, harbor officials, crews, and anyone else who were caught at the wrong time and place when the attack began.
Two to three thousand dead, perhaps more, not counting the invaders.
Viserys eyes swept over the docks, where city officials and City Guard were busy identifying bodies and loading them on carts for disposal. For those with families or friends in the city, it would be up to the latter to decide what happens. The rest would end up either burned, in mass graves outside of Astapor, or both.
The monsters would be burned in a pit far outside the city, just in case, and a mass grave awaited the Ironborn after people stripped them of anything valuable.
Viserys glowered at the open sea and the warship squadrons meant to prevent this kind of disaster, which remained none the wiser until the fog lifted. His naval ambitions were curtailed for at least another year, and he had to consider such attacks when determining the forces needed to hold Slaver's Bay.
Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire, the Game of Throne or the Star Wars books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not for sale or rent.
Chapter 10 Part 4
=Sith=
=Sith=
291 AC
Astapor
Sunrise illuminated a subdued city. Cries and wails from people who lost family and loved ones carried over Astapor. Unsullied units and the City Guard marched through the city, locking down sections of it and searching for stragglers.
Viserys couldn't sense any more of the madmen or Sithspawn running amok. However, he was in no mood to take chances. Last night had been entirely too close for his liking. The magical mist came as a nasty surprise. Without his presence, it would have crippled Astapor's defenses to such a degree the docks would have been entirely lost before anyone was the wiser. It also allowed for a strike team to sneak into his home unnoticed. He examined the side of the pyramid through which the enemy had infiltrated and the nearby security posts. Without the fog, they wouldn't have been able to get in unseen, even in the dead of night.
Four Royal Guards dragged another Ironborn into Dany's chamber, and Marwyn walked behind them. The Maester looked like death warmed over again. His robes were wet with spots of fresh, still-drying blood.
"We've patched up all the wounded. There are surprisingly few of them, and it wasn't for a lack of trying. Those weapons the demons used? They're poisoned. Everyone we know of wounded by them died before sunrise. It's nasty." the Maester reported. "How is the Princess?"
"My sister will recover. Observing my magic was a part of our deal, was it not?" Viserys glowered at the prisoner.
Marwyn perked up at that.
The Ironborn felt hollow and, contrary to earlier, offered no resistance whatsoever. The best comparison Viserys could make was to someone repeatedly mind-fucked in a rough way, just not roughly enough at a time to make their brain leak out of their ears. The personality of the man was gone, shattered by whatever magic drove him into a killing frenzy last night. Viserys pushed into the Ironborn's hollow mind, fishing for any scrap of information.
Kill! Kill! Kill! The Iron Price! Kill! Kill! Kill!
The only thing coherent left was a memory of what the Ironborn had been chanting in his mind. However, he lacked the capacity to understand, much less obey, such a directive.
He could still remember how to breathe and walk around if guided, but there was no conscious understanding of what was happening, who he was, or where he was. There was simply no one home anymore.
The rest of the man's memories were buried deep and resembled a shattered mosaic. Viserys could get glimpses of fights in towns and villages, presumably in Westeros. The only connections he could trace were to killing and paying the Iron Price. When he tried to find anything else, there was no connection the Ironborn mind could make. If those memories were still in his brain, they were disconnected.
The Ironborn was useless from an intelligence-gathering perspective like the last four prisoners Viserys went through that morning. The Prince pulled out of the man's destroyed mind and drew on the Dark Side. The Ironborn's life force was duller, reduced from what it should have been, likely a direct consequence of last night. Still, there was enough of it left to make draining it worth the effort.
Viserys raised his left hand at the prisoner, clawed at his life force, and tore it out of his body. There was not even a hint of resistance. The man collapsed as the life drained out of him, desiccating within moments until he resembled an ancient mummy. Viserys pulled the life energy within himself and channeled it into Dany, guiding it to speed up her recovery. Torn flesh knit together, finally fully healing the internal tears around her ribs instead of merely patching them enough not to bleed. Bones knit together, stimulating days' worth of healing within moments. As soon as the stolen vitality ran out, Viserys ceased the healing and let go of the Force. He leaned back on the chair he sat on beside Dany's bed and waited for the burn in his cells to cool down. He had been pushing himself too much since last night without letting his body properly cool or recover.
"Keep the remaining prisoners alive for now. I'll deal with them in a few days," Viserys waved his Unsullied away.
"This was incredible!" Marwyn gushed. His eyes roamed over the dead Ironborn before jumping to Viserys. "Was this merely an execution or more?" He looked speculatively between the Prince and Princess.
"I used his vitality, his very life, to speed up Dany's healing," Viserys admitted. "As you can see, the process is inefficient. Otherwise, I could have fully healed her by sacrificing only one of the bastards. Instead, everyone accounts for less than a week spent mending naturally."
Marwyn looked between the corpse being dragged away and Daenerys.
"That can be the difference between life and death! There are so many injuries that kill before the body can heal itself! Infection aside, keeping someone wounded alive for a few days longer can make all the difference, and you can do it within moments!"
"It's quite draining on me too, and we need expendable prisoners who are going to die anyway as medical supplies," Viserys noted. He was right about Marwyn; the Maester was cut off from the same cloth as many crazy Imperial scientists he had worked with over the years.
"It is revolutionary!" Marwyn gushed.
"You need to be born with the ability to use this kind of magic, then spend years training on how to do it without going insane. I've sensed no one else who could be taught in Pentos or Astapor. To say that such people are exceedingly rare is a charming understatement."
Marwyn made a pained sound at that. Viserys had already explained the realities of the situation before, but this was the first time he demonstrated this much of what the Force could do.
"After you rest, I need you to examine the monsters that attacked us. The corrosive venom they spat was bad enough. From what I saw, stab wounds were far less effective on them than they should have been," Viserys suggested.
"I'll see to it! I'll need a well-lit, secure place to do autopsies. From the accounts I got, the place shouldn't have anyone else around if I make a mistake. There's no need to poison other people without a need!" the gleam was back in Marwyn's eyes.
=Sith=
In the light of day, the docks were a complete and utter mess, fully revealing the scale of the attack. Kaleb and Rusty Nail – the Unsullied commander in charge of the legion protecting the area for the week, were both alive. The Captain was out with one of the squadrons on patrol, overseeing hands-on training of our first batch of new crews and officers. Rusty Nail had been in the main Unsullied barracks with half his legion, resting while the rest were deployed on a night shift at the harbor. If it wasn't for Viserys' paranoia, the defenses at night would have been weaker, allowing the attackers to run wild for much longer before they were contained.
It was clear that Sithspawn and Ironborn alike subscribed to the adage of kill and pillage, then burn. Casualties at the docks were extreme, though the infrastructure there was mostly intact. Ironically enough, Viserys caused the most damage when he sensed Dany was in danger, and his control slipped. Four warehouses, six houses, and two shops were little more than rubble, and with them went a lot of supplies needed to repair or build ships. In that regard, it was excellent that most shipwrights didn't live beside the docks. Otherwise, the loss of skilled labor would have been crippling.
The ships docked when the attack began were mostly intact. Only two burned down due to lanterns and torches falling and igniting them when the enemy stormed on board. That was the one regard the fog and calm weather last night helped with – they prevented the fire from spreading before people could do something about it. One of Viserys' trade ships and a vessel from Telos were gone with their whole crews.
Almost every vessel in the harbor lost up to three-quarters of their crews. In contrast, a handful of ships had most of their companies intact due to visiting pleasure houses, taverns, and relatives deeper into the city.
Viserys had thirteen Ironborn galleys to replace the lost and damaged ships, which was a net plus in that regard. He would need months, if not over a year, to train skeleton crews as replacements. The ships under construction would likely have to wait longer for their shakedown cruises, much less have full crew complements.
"Four hundred and fifteen of my men are dead," Rusty Nail reported after visiting the Temple of the Graces. "Fifty are currently missing, and forty-one are wounded. Half of them are crippled."
Up to half a legion in permanent casualties among the Unsullied then, and those were just from the Rusty Nail's legion. At least forty died at the pyramid, and one century from the Bronze Harpy's unit got gutted, intercepting an incursion deeper into the city.
The City Guard casualties were in the hundreds as well. Viserys saw the corpses of many liberated slaves who fought as well. Then, the dock hands, harbor officials, crews, and anyone else who were caught at the wrong time and place when the attack began.
Two to three thousand dead, perhaps more, not counting the invaders.
Viserys eyes swept over the docks, where city officials and City Guard were busy identifying bodies and loading them on carts for disposal. For those with families or friends in the city, it would be up to the latter to decide what happens. The rest would end up either burned, in mass graves outside of Astapor, or both.
The monsters would be burned in a pit far outside the city, just in case, and a mass grave awaited the Ironborn after people stripped them of anything valuable.
Viserys glowered at the open sea and the warship squadrons meant to prevent this kind of disaster, which remained none the wiser until the fog lifted. His naval ambitions were curtailed for at least another year, and he had to consider such attacks when determining the forces needed to hold Slaver's Bay.
