Game of thrones: the Sunblode rise

Chapter 44: Blood in the Riverlands

The air in the Riverlands carried the weight of impending disaster. Villages had been torched, fields lay blackened, and the desperate cries of displaced families echoed through the countryside. Tywin Lannister's strategy was clear—starve the Riverlands, break its spirit, and weaken Ivar Sunblode's ability to resist. But where Tywin sought submission, Ivar found defiance.

At Riverrun, the council worked tirelessly to counter Tywin's scorched-earth campaign. Every move the lion made was met with calculated resistance: supply lines sabotaged, foraging parties ambushed, and key positions fortified. Yet, for every success, the Riverlands suffered another wound, the cost of survival paid in blood and fire.

The council convened late into the night, the war room illuminated by flickering torches. Ivar stood at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over the map of the Riverlands.

"Tywin wants us to break under the weight of his campaign," Ivar said. "But he's spread himself thin to cover so much ground. That's his weakness, and we're going to exploit it."

Roland Emberhill tapped a position on the map with his gauntleted hand. "His foraging parties are venturing further from their main force. If we hit them hard enough, we can force Tywin to consolidate his troops, which will slow his advance."

"And if he doesn't?" Duncan Greenfield asked.

"Then we bleed his forces until there's nothing left," Timothy Sunrise said, his grin sharp. "The lion doesn't hunt when it's starving."

"We need to be careful," Lysa Blackthorne interjected. "If we push too hard, we risk exposing ourselves. Tywin thrives on turning bold moves into fatal mistakes."

Ivar nodded. "That's why we strike quickly and decisively. Timothy, you'll lead the raids. Roland, I want your forces reinforcing our defensive lines. Lysa, keep tracking Tywin's movements. If he shifts his focus, I want to know before he makes his move."

The room fell silent as Ivar's words hung in the air. Each of them understood the stakes—this wasn't just about holding the Riverlands; it was about survival.

Timothy and his team set out before dawn, their movements swift and deliberate. They targeted a Lannister foraging party near the Red Fork, a group of fifty soldiers accompanied by wagons laden with stolen grain and livestock.

The attack was brutal and efficient. Enhanced soldiers moved through the Lannister camp like shadows, their speed and strength overwhelming the unsuspecting guards. Timothy himself took down the commanding officer, his daggers flashing in the firelight.

The battle lasted less than twenty minutes, and when it was over, the foraging party was destroyed. The wagons were burned, and the survivors were sent fleeing back to Tywin's main force with a grim warning: the Riverlands were not so easily tamed.

Timothy surveyed the carnage with a satisfied grin. "That should get Tywin's attention," he said, wiping blood from his blades.

One of his soldiers, a young woman named Serah, approached him. "If we keep hitting them like this, they'll retaliate harder."

"Good," Timothy replied. "Let them come. The more they send, the more we'll take down."

At Riverrun, the mood was tense as scouts brought word of Tywin's reaction to the raid. The Lannister forces had pulled back slightly, consolidating their troops to protect their foraging parties. It was a small victory, but one that gave the Riverlands a glimmer of hope.

"We've disrupted his plans," Roland said during a council meeting. "But it won't last. Tywin won't let this go unanswered."

"He doesn't have to," Lysa said. "His forces are still large enough to mount a full assault on Riverrun. And if he brings in more mercenaries or reinforcements from the Westerlands, we'll be outmatched."

Ivar leaned over the map, his fingers tracing the path of Tywin's forces. "Then we keep the pressure on. We can't let him regroup. Timothy, I want you to target his supply lines near Harrenhal. Lysa, focus on disrupting his communications. If we can keep him in the dark, we force him to act blindly."

Timothy smirked. "Another raid? You're spoiling me, my lord."

As the council dispersed, Ivar lingered in the war room, his thoughts heavy. Lysa returned, sensing his unease.

"You're worried," she said, her tone soft but direct.

"I always am," Ivar replied. "Every decision we make carries a cost. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."

Lysa placed a hand on his arm, her gaze steady. "It is. Tywin thrives on fear, but you've given the Riverlands something stronger—hope. That's why they follow you."

Ivar nodded, her words a small comfort in the storm of doubt that surrounded him.

Near Harrenhal, Timothy's team struck another blow against Tywin's supply lines. This time, the raid was more challenging—Lannister forces had fortified their positions, anticipating further attacks.

The battle was fierce, with casualties on both sides. Timothy's enhanced soldiers fought with their usual ferocity, but the Lannisters were prepared, their disciplined ranks holding longer than expected.

Timothy himself was injured during the fight, a Lannister spear grazing his side. Despite the pain, he rallied his team, leading a final charge that broke the enemy line.

As they retreated, Timothy gritted his teeth against the pain. "They're learning," he muttered. "But so are we."

Back at Riverrun, Timothy's injuries were treated, and the council convened to discuss the aftermath.

"We've slowed Tywin, but it's costing us," Duncan said, his expression grim. "Our forces are stretched thin, and morale is starting to waver."

"That's why we need a decisive victory," Ivar said. "Something that reminds the Riverlands—and Tywin—that we won't break."

"Easier said than done," Lysa replied. "Tywin's strength is his patience. He'll wait us out if he has to."

"Then we force his hand," Ivar said, his gaze hardening. "We draw him into a trap—one he can't ignore."

The council worked late into the night, crafting a plan that would turn the tide of the war. It was risky, but it was their best chance at securing the future of the Riverlands.

As the first rays of dawn broke over Riverrun, Ivar stood on the battlements, watching the sun rise over the war-torn land. He felt the weight of the coming battle, but also the strength of the people who stood with him.

"Let's end this," he said softly, the words carried away by the morning breeze.

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