The Nightsong Campaign (Oct. 98 AL)

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On the appointed day, the troops were ordered to break camp an march North. It would be about five days to Nightsong at a normal pace, but it was clear that Trystane intended to make it in four, stealing a night-march on the garrison and assaulting the castle at dawn on the fifth day.

Visenya realised she had been holding her breath and let it out slowly. This was finally it, when they would attack and succeed or fail. It seemed likely that they would succeed, but she recalled how her brother and her sister had gone to battle and lost both of their dragons. Even Maekar had lost Meraxes in the campaign fought against Dorne. The few dragons they had were too valuable to lose...but if they did not risk them then what was the use of having them?

She glanced at her daughter, seeing the gleam of excitement in the girl's eyes. The bloodlust of the young, she thought with a grim smile, though she saw the same gleam on Prince Trystane's face and he was no longer so young or so innocent to the ways of war.

"So do we send in men to parley with Lady Caron? Let them see our men and fly the dragons about a bit overhead? What do you intend?"

"I imagine that they will be quite surprised to awaken to an army outside their walls," the Prince replied dryly. "It would be dishonorable to attack without offering them the chance to surrender honorably. They will refuse, of course, and then we will take the castle by storm, but if Lady Caron can be talked into yielding so much the better. I am not so foolish as to fight for something that could be gained at the bargaining table."

He turned back to Visenya. "Keep the dragons concealed until you see us begin the assault; our outriders will screen the castle, will prevent any ravens or riders from escaping with word of our attack, but they are not infallible and the presence of our dragons must be concealed as long as possible."

Elyas' lips narrowed as Trystane voiced his support for the foolhardy notion of parleying. The Lord of Vaith momentarily appeared not too dissimilar to Prince Trystane's own mother, looking as if he had been forced to consume several lemons in rapid succession. We are giving up a chance to catch the garrison by surprise to show honour to the allies of rapists and murderers. All that will come of this is more Dornish deaths. 

Elyas' brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as this obvious truth ran through his mind. It mattered little if the garrison was surprised by the march. Once the Dornish offered terms they would be afforded the opportunity to better ready their defences with men given more time to reach the battlements and prepare their defences. It was of course impossible to complete catch the garrison off guard given the size of their force, but men woken from sleep hurrying to the walls to repel an army that had appeared out of the darkness was different than a garrison given the opportunity to ready themselves as terms were offered. Elyas continued to appear unhappy with the course of action as Morys spoke, but kept his silence.

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The army approached the castle under cover of darkness, from the east so that the sun would be at their backs by the time it rose. The Prince knew stealth could not be relied upon, for it would take only one overly watchful man on the walls to give them away, and indeed a cry went up in the castle long before the Dornish approached crossbow range of the walls. From their vantage point in the mountains, the dragonriders could see Prince Trystane and his lords rider out to demand surrender, and they could almost hear the scornful refusal of the castle garrison. Though the Dornish Army was massive, they had brought no siege machinery preferring to march quickly instead of dragging a heavy baggage train.

The defenders of Nightsong clearly expected a siege, which they could easily withstand long enough for reinforcements to arrive from the north. The Dornish crossbowmen brought down a number of ravens leaving the castle's towers, and as the men surged toward the walls with grapnels and hastily constructed scaling ladders, a series of flaming arrows arced high into the air, signalling the dragonriders to attack.

Ellarion and Nymeraxes attack suddenly, swooping down on the fortress with twin roars as they bathed the battlements with flame. The crossbowmen on the walls turned their fire on the two incoming dragons, and both beasts roared as their undersides were struck by arrows and quarrels. The missiles served as more of an annoyance than a threat, and the Dornishmen who were attempting to scale the walls took advantage of their reprieve to surge forward.

Perhaps the dragons were somewhat tired from their flights, but when Ellarion circled around for another pass, his wing clipped one of Nightsong's towers, sending the dragon tumbling through the air for a few moments before it could right itself. Nymeraxes also made a rather clumsy second pass, nearly setting the Dornish ladders on fire as Valaena directed her flames at the top of the walls. An arrow glanced off the girl's armor, where her shoulder met her neck, though it was fired from such a small distance that the bodkin point left a noticeable dent in her gorget; at a slightly different angle it would have skewered her throat.

[Valaena takes a light wound.]
[Ellarion takes a light wound.]
[Dornish soldiers reach the top of the walls.]

Noting that Dornishmen had reached the top of the walls, Elyas redirected Ellarion further from the immediate combat, attempting to destroy any men moving to reinforce the point on the wall that the Dornish were attacking. It would not do to burn their own troops, and now that they were interspersed at such close quarters further attacks from dragonback would do as much harm as good. Unsure precisely where Valaena and Morys were, he nonetheless motioned for them to follow his lead in moving further down the wall to where there were less Dornishmen mixed with the enemy.

Morys and Typhon fly over the crossbowmen. The dragon's fire strikes true, setting many of the men alight. Screams break out as their clothes, hair and skin burn . Some, caught right in the blast, fall down dead, while others run around screaming. A couple of those collapse, not even making it to the stair. Those who are not hit curse and shout and try to avoid the flaming men. At any rate, there is a lot of confusion with the wounded and dead and even the unwounded are now wary of the dragons. Some men flee despite lack of wounds, not being willing to face the dragons. Yet it is not enough. A knight on the battlements calls to the troops, rallying them before total chaos descends. While the fires rage, Elyas and Ellarion fly overhead as well and the dragon's fire jets down at the defenders. More screams, and Elyas sees a man's flesh burn entirely off his face before collapsing. Alongside him, there are many others burning alive, the crackling of the fire accompanied with terrible screams. Besides these, many other men are badly burned. Panic sets in here as well though the commander on this stretch of wall is not as well seassoned as the other. Panic ensures as men try to flee from Ellarion's flame. Elyas realises that the enemy officer does not have a particularly strong command of his troop. Meanwhile, Valaena is a little less successful and narrowly misses being shot at again when Visenya leads Silverwing down to distract the enemy.

The Dornish presence on the rampart grows stronger, but, as Elyas has already highlighted, they will have to be careful to avoid lighting their own men on fire. The defenders fight back desperately but they have no dragons to combat the Dornish attack. They fight with desperation, as the dragonriders realise that the battle is starting to go their way.