Skagos

Skagos 

Rickard Karstark stepped onto the beach with an exhale of relief. He never did like ships. The swaying always felt unnatural. He could only count his blessings that the trip to Skagos from Whiteharbour was short.  

He took a few seconds to just look at the scenery. The beach they landed near was empty, surrounded by cliffs with only one clear path leading into a forest that travelled further up the slope of the mountain that made up Skagos. 

After a few moments he brought himself back to the present.  

He turned to his aide who was waiting patiently by his side as always. 

“Jorgen, tell the majors to set camp. I want sentries on those cliffs and scouts around the forest. Then get my command tent ready.” 

He gave one of those solutes that Hadrian insisted be drilled into the men. “Aye, General.” 

Richard gave a grunt of approval as he quickly turned and started making his way to the Majors of each Cohort who were offloading their ships.  

With that done, he turned and started inspecting the men as they went about their duties for the next few hours. Barking commands to soldiers who were doing things wrong or giving punishments to those who looked as if they were slacking in their duties. 

After that he went to his tent that had already been set up. Walking past the men guarding the entrance and sitting behind his desk, going through the reports that the quartermaster provided him that spoke about how many supplies were unloaded and how many more were left. 

One thing that Richard had quickly discovered when it came to building the Northern Army was that there was a lot more copper counting involved than he originally thought possible. 

They needed to keep the army as efficient as possible if they wanted it to grow into a truly powerful force in the future. This meant they had to know how many supplies they had, how many they would use and where all these came from. Not to mention keeping track of all the soldiers in the army. Their training, accomplishments, payments and equipment. 

It truly was an enormous amount of work. Too much for him to handle on his own. Thats why he had a few people working under him, such as the quartermaster to keep track of equipment, the paymaster to keep track of how much each soldier needs to get paid and when. There is also a master of arms back at the main base of the army to keep track of the troops and their training.  

Most of Rickards job during peacetime was to read through these reports and approve them if he found them satisfactory. As well as to give directions to each Major for their Cohorts to follow. Even that ended up being a lot of work, but it was far more manageable. 

After an hour or so of going through reports and making sure the supplies were unloaded in a quick manner and that not too many things were missing he signed his approval. It was impossible to stop thievery entirely. He and the quartermaster put a stop to it whenever they could or whenever there was a large amount stolen. But as the army was still relatively new and the army was still chaotic in some places, he was forced to let things go more often than he would like. He knew that this would change over time. As the culture of discipline started to sink deeper into the army things would change. They already had in some ways. It used to be a lot worse in the beginning. He felt like he was executing people every other day in the beginning. 

Now it had been nearly a fortnight since he had to make an example of anyone. 

He took a few minutes to have his dinner when it was brought to him before taking another walk around their camp.  

He nodded approvingly when he saw the tents were lined up in neat rows. The guards on duty seemed to still be performing their jobs properly. The latrine pit was dug a decent way away from where the camp was. Discipline seemed to be holding. It was a fair sight better than he could have hoped for. 

Things weren't perfect yet. Not even close. But the army had already come much further than he thought it would have in only a few short years. Still, Rickard would have preferred to have another year or two to fix up some of the issues it still had. 

Unfortunately, with things going as they were down South, Hadrian Stark decided that the formation of the army needed to be sped up. The best way to do this was to blood some of the men. The veterans would make training new soldiers all the easier and they would have learnt the importance of discipline. Making sure that the culture is firmly rooted in what they were trying to build.  

Rickard found that he couldn't disagree with that sentiment. For all that he tried to force discipline on the men, it could be trying at times. Most of his recruits were green boys looking to earn personal glory. This army was all about unity and discipline. He had to break many of the recruits down and rebuild them. A process that unfortunately took a lot of effort and time. With a limited number of trainers it was a trying task at times. All of them could march in formation properly and they fought as a group during spars, but their discipline still wavered sometimes. 

This campaign would give him a core group of veterans who could help him build up the rest of the army when they returned home.  

After another round of checking thing over, he returned to his tent and had the majors and the quartermaster summoned to him. 

It was barely five minutes later that they arrived.  

“General!” They gave acceptable solutes and held their positions with a decent amount of discipline. 

“At ease.” He called and gestured for them to sit around the table. 

When they had done so Rickard stood. “This is an important task that was given to us. Can you tell me why that is?” 

The men looked confused. Looking at each other for answers. Rickard suppressed a sigh. He would have to make sure the next Majors were slightly more intelligent than this bunch who were mostly chosen for their loyalty and ability to follow orders. 

He continued before the silence became uncomfortable. “If Lord Starks only goal was to pacify Skagos and bring it back under Northern control properly, it wouldn't be too difficult for him to do. He could summon an army of ten thousand men easily and wash over this island before the savages had any idea what was going on. Instead, he only sent two Legions. Two thousand men. The reason for this is simple. This is our proving ground. This is where we are meant to show the North our worth. I will not have us fail! Is that clear?” 

“Yes General!” They chorused.  

He sat back down. “Good, so let us begin to plan.” 

He gestured to the map. “Lord Stark sent scouts a while ago. They have mapped a lot of the island. This map shows where we can find Lords Crowl, Stan and Magnar.  We are to defeat each of the lords and take their heirs back to Winterfell with their mothers. No harm is to come to the heirs, is this clear? Lord Stark needs them to eventually return to these islands to rule once they have been educated properly. Their mothers are to come with to ensure they are taught about Skagos as well.” 

They all gave their assent. Rickard still glared at them for a few moments longer to ensure the message really sank in before continuing.  

“Those scouts are meant to meet us in the next few days. Either on our march or they will come to the camp first. This is important because each of them are skinchangers. They will make our lives a lot easier in the days to come. Unfortunately we cannot afford to wait for them without giving the Skagosi the initiative so they will just have to catch up. Should they approach whilst we are marching, you are to direct them to me.  We lost the skinchanger that was given to us, that fool Gerry, on the ship due to his own stupidity, so it is very important that our men don't accidentally kill them when they approach. Make sure they know that.” 

After waiting to see if the message sunk in he continued. 

“This is the route we will take...” 

Line Break 

Two days later the men were marching up the steep slopes of the island once their camp had been properly fortified. Three hundred men had been left to guard it, their supplies and the ships. Rickard determined that it should be more than enough men as the area they chose to camp was well protected.  

The rest of the men were marching for House Magnar as they were the closest to their location and the easiest to get to.  

The men had been marching for hours over steep rocks, and windy paths. Up and down steep slopes. But despite that, they seemed to have handled it okay. All that time marching that Hadrian had insisted on seemed to have paid off. At this rate, they would reach their destination the next day. 

They found a clearing a few hours before sunset that looked to be decently defensible with a good view of the surroundings that he decided to stop the march at. He was quick to order the men to begin preparing defenses.  

Tired from the march, they still did what they were told. All of them began digging a decently large trench around their position that was done by the time nightfall came around. Rickard still wasn't ready to let his guard down however. They hadn't seen any Skagosi since the arrived on the island. This could only mean that they knew they were here and were keeping out of sight. 

With this in mind, he had two hundred men on watch at all times and had the rest sleep in their armor. 

His foresight paid off when he was awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of horns. He was on his feet and armed quickly as he excited the tent to see what caused the night guards to signal an attack.  

There were a few tents on the outskirts that had caught fire and quite a bit of screaming coming from the North side of the camp. He made his way there with all due haste. He arrived to the sounds of fighting and screaming. Around four hundred soldiers were pushing back an equal number of men riding strange mounts and on foot. As he watched, the attackers started to flee. This quickly turned into a rout. 

He found the Major that was in charge of this side of the camp and barked. “Report.” 

The man stood straight. “I'm still getting all the information General. What I have so far suggests that around five hundred men attacked. Around a hundred of them were mounted while the rest were on foot or were archers. Their mounts seemed to have no trouble with the trenches. They just jumped right over. But the rest of them were slowed down. I believe they were trying to raid us. They underestimated us though. The guards noticed them and alerted us in time that we were able to push them back easily.” 

He just grunted. “Be ready to report the casualties in the morning. For now, those who fought can go back to sleep or to a healer. Replace them and the guards with those who were already resting or didn't fight.” With that he turned around and marched back to his tent. Eager to get some more sleep. 

The next morning the number of casualties came back, and it was more promising than he expected. Only sixteen of his men died with a further thirty injured while the Skagosi lost over fifty men and another hundred had been injured. Most of his casualties were from the beginning of the battle before reinforcements arrive in force. This was promising.  

The reason for this seemed to be simple. His men were better armored and armed, while the Skagosi often used weapons that were often made from bone or they were rusty. None of them had steel armor and even their leather armor was of poor quality. His men had better training in general and phalanx formation seemed to be more effective than he could have hoped.  

A short while later he had his men start getting ready for another march while the injured were prepared to be transported back to the camp on the beach. It was another day of grueling marching for those that remained.  

With any luck, they would reach Lord Magnar before nightfall. 

Line Break 

Lord Rickard Karstark watched the sad excuse of an army that lined up across from him and honestly felt something he never expected to.  

Pity. 

The difference between the two forces were obvious. Not only was Lord Magnar severely outnumbered. But Rickards army was clearly superior in every way. From discipline to equipment.  

There were barely a thousand men he would be facing. A lot of them were greybeards or greenboys.  

The only advantage that Lord Magnars army had was that they were fresh while his was tired from a long day of marching and fending off small ambushes. 

Still, he would make sure not to underestimate them.  

Under his wary gaze Lord Magnar rode his unicorn to the middle of the field and waited. He would not have it said he didn't have honor, so Rickard rode to meet him. 

The Lord was a large man, approaching the size of Lord Umber and seemed to be even more gruff. He started the talks without even a greeting. “What's dis den? You mainlanders fnly come to take ou land ey?” He spat on the ground.  

Rickard kept composed. “Lord Stark is your liege lord. Just as he is mine. Your ancestors swore fealty to them. Did you really think you could keep killing his messengers without any punishment? That you could keep ignoring his summons to Winterfell?” 

Lord Magnar burst into laughter. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Watve dem Starks eveh done fer us ey? Why should me an me men listen to a cunt so far away?” 

He only frowned. “He was willing to give you permission to build up a small fishing fleet again, so long as you followed his laws. He was willing to teach you new farming practices that could have doubled your yield. He wanted to bring you all into the North properly.” 

All of that was true as far as Rickard knew. Hadrian had spoken to him about the fleet he was willing to let the Skagosi have. While he wasn't happy about it, he understood the logic. With the Manderly fleet expanding and the Stark fleet being built he knew that the Skagosi fleet wouldn't have posed any major danger. Even their raids would have to stop as they could get food from fishing as Bear Island does and have no more excuses for raiding. The Skagosi would be tied further into the North and would no longer rule without Winterfell. 

Once again the Lord turned and spat. “Pretty promises.” 

Rickard sighed. “I will offer you one last chance to surrender. Your heir and wife will be taken to Winterfell to be raised into loyal lords. You can keep ruling until he comes of age and all of your men will live.” 

It was a generous offer. The Lord would truly lose nothing in the long run. His line would still rule in the end. 

For a third time he turned and spat on the floor. 

Rickard just nodded. “So be it.” Before turning and riding back towards his army. 

The battle started a few minutes later. The First Legion marched in neat, organized rows with gleaming spears held over their shields, while the Skagosi rushed in a wild disorganized mob. The only tactic that the Skagosi employed at all was when a hundred of their mounted unicorns tried to flank them. It didn't work as tactics for cavalry charges had been drilled into the men. The outer two ranks turned and brought their spears up. Holding their ground. A few men died but the formation held. 

The rest of the battle was a slaughter. 

That night, he was housed Lord Magnars castle. His army had less than forty deaths whilst the Skagosi had over three hundred. With that number being so low only because they broke and ran when they realized how badly they were outmatched.  

He was very pleased with the result. He didn't even have to use the other six hundred men he had with him. 

The Magnar child and his mother were recovered with almost no issue, besides the mother trying to skewer a few men when she was found. She had since calmed down and would be sent back to the camp in the morning with her son, escorted by a group of a hundred soldiers in case any Skagosi were to try something.  

Truly, this war was going to be a lot easier than he thought.  

Line Break 

A fortnight later Rickard cursed as he brought his shield up, blocking the arrows that would have hit him before taking a look at his foes. 

He bit back a swear when they melted back into the mountains after the ambush. He didn't give the order for his men to pursue, knowing how badly that went the last time. 

He looked back at his men, many of whom were warily looking around their surroundings. He cursed on more time before calling for a retreat back to a clearing with a good view of the surroundings he saw an hour earlier in their march. 

Once there, he called a strategy meeting with his two Majors.  

The men trudged into the camp. Visibly tired but still alert.  

He wasted no time on formalities.  

“This isn't working.” Truly an understatement. After their first victory against Lord Magnar the men were in high spirits. He took advantage of that and called for a march against Lord Crowl as soon as he could.  

Unfortunately this march was a lot more difficult. 

Lord Crowl was much higher up the mountain. That meant that the men had to march up extremely steep slopes at times and marching was slow and exhausting. The number of ambushes had also escalated. They were constantly attacked. Never by more than fifty men and never up close. It was all archery. Or else they threw rocks at them from cliffs or tried to set up landslides. After the first one barely missed his army, he was a lot more wary of those. Whenever they tried to follow the ambushers, the men were ambushed again with often worse results. This had slowly whittled down their numbers. 

Still, his men kept discipline and marched on.  

Only to reach the cave that Crowl called a castle and find it empty. The Lord nowhere to be seen. So they started to search, only to run around in circles. Setting off ambush after ambush.  

The men were tired and disheartened. Deaths and injuries kept adding up. They had wasted days wandering around only to have nothing to show for it. Something had to change, soon. 

Major Jon grimaced. “Weve tried to send scouts, but these men know the mountains better than we do. They keep disappearing. Otherwise, I'm not sure what we can do. We can comb the whole mountain in larger groups but that would take a long time. Even then, there's no guarantee they won't slip past us if they have secret paths.” 

He scowled. Unfortunately, he was correct. Himself and Hadrian had expected this problem when they planned the war. They knew that the Skagosi could do what the Mountain clans of the Vale have done for thousands of years but they had a plan in place to help them. A few of Hadrian's skinchangers were sent to the island to map it out before the war started. They would make finding the Skagosi easy if they were here.  They were meant to meet up with his force within a few days of his arrival but he had seen nothing from them. He feared they were dead. 

At this rate, his best option would be to retreat back to the camp on the beach and send a message asking for more to be brought. Unfortunately that would be hard to do. Other than the Children, skinchangers were rare. Hadrian had less than a dozen who were trained. Of those, three had been sent to the island to scout. While one was sent to march with his army. Unfortunately, that fool had less than a few moons of training and got his bird eaten by a hawk whilst he was too deep in it and committed suicide due to the trauma whilst they were still sailing. Rickard felt like the gods were cursing them. 

Rickard waved a hand. “Dismissed.” 

He sat for hours trying to think of a solution, only to come up empty.  

It was the next day that the solution found him. 

A small man, dressed in furs sat before his desk. 

Rickard struggled not to reach over and strangle him for what he just heard. The frogman had the good sense to at least grimace and keep quiet. “So the other two are back at the beach where they are useless. Whilst the reason it took you so long to catch up was because we were marching too fast?” 

The grimace on his face deepened. “Aye my Lord. I also had to dodge a lot of Skagosi on the way.” 

He wanted to yell. But he forced himself to calm down. At least the man was here now. Still, he would have a talk with Hadrian when he got back to Winterfell. He knew none of the skinchangers were trained for war, but this was still ridiculous. If the army was going to be forced to rely on them, then they needed to know how the army functioned. They needed to be trained to keep up. They needed to have a more than one with the army in case something happened. Like with that never be damned enough fool Gerry. 

Still, he supposes that is what this war with Skagos was about. Finding the flaws in the army and fixing them before they faced a real threat. 

He massaged his temples. ”Do you at least know where Lord Crowl is?” 

The mans face brightened immediately. “Aye, I noticed him a few days back while searching for you. Kept an eye on him. He is with Lord Stane. They are gathering all the men they can while these men here distract you.” 

He took a deep breath. Must not scream. 

An hour later, he and his men were marching again. This time, down the slope.  

Six days later, they met an army of two thousand on a mostly flat plateau led by the two lords. His men were irritated and so was he.  

The slaughter was even worse than the last battle.