preventive raid

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-Lothar von Ruppin Pov second moon 289 AC

I heard every bone in his body break instantly when I slammed him against the wall with my shoulder. He let out nothing more than a muffled grunt before collapsing with his eyes wide open, dead on the spot. The stone behind him had cracked, splintered into deep fractures.

I turned toward the group of guards. There were twelve of them. All stared at me as if they'd seen a demon emerge from the flames, terrified by how a single charge had turned their comrade into a sack of broken bones.

I slowly drew my Valyrian steel sword, the blade gleaming with a stillness that chilled more than any scream. I advanced toward them with steady steps, while their spears trembled in their hands.

"St– st– stop… in the name… stop…!" one of them stammered, never finishing the sentence.

My blade sliced him clean through, decapitating him and taking one of his arms with it. His body didn't even make a sound as it fell—the others were paralyzed. With my free hand, I grabbed another by his leather armor and slammed him against the ground so hard the impact echoed hollow. His skull and spine offered no resistance.

Before the rest could react, I gripped my sword with both hands and swept it in a wide arc. The first in its path was opened from the abdomen, his innards spilling out as if his soul had been torn free. Another screamed with his arm hanging loose, severed from the shoulder. The third simply no longer had a head.

One of them broke formation and took a step back, but I didn't let him escape. I lunged forward in a long stride and drove my sword straight through two at once. The blade cleaved them in half with a dull crack, separating their torsos from their hips.

The survivors fled, not daring to look back.

I turned toward the one still moaning on the ground—the one who had lost his arm. I said nothing. I raised my foot and, without hesitation, crushed his skull with a single stomp. The sound was wet. Final.

Then, without wiping my sword, I began running after the ones who had fled.

No matter how fast they ran, they weren't faster than me. Not even the weight of my armor was enough to slow me down. I caught up within seconds, pounding across blood-slicked stones and mud.

When I grabbed one of them, I lifted him like a sack of wheat and hurled him into another fleeing guard. Both flew through the air and slammed against a wall with a heavy thud. Before they even hit the ground fully, I finished them with a single kick—driving my boot through the abdomen of one and the torso of the other in the same strike, as if there had been no resistance at all.

I pulled my foot free, soaked in blood and entrails, from what remained. And continued the carnage.

Of the three still left, fear gave them speed—but not enough. I caught the first with ease, burying my sword in his back until the hilt stopped it.

The second needed only a twist of the wrist. I grabbed him by the shoulder and, with one sharp motion, snapped his neck. He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

The third tried to zigzag away, but I leapt on him. The impact crushed him to the ground with such force that no more was needed. Between my weight and the direct blow, his bones gave way like dry husks.

I stood among the scattered corpses.

I heard the sound of hooves approaching and, without thinking, yanked my sword from the back of one of the dead guards. It was still dripping.

"Well… looks like you've already cleaned out the guards here," said Antti from his mount, surveying the corpses around him. He nodded, unsurprised.

"There weren't many. I preferred to deal with them now so we wouldn't delay the vanguard," I replied, beginning to wipe the blade with a rag soaked in old blood.

Antti started counting on his fingers, pointing to each body."Twelve… thirteen. Not many, no. I suppose you're the only one who can say thirteen armed and trained men is 'not many'..." he muttered, shrugging. "Anyway, we need to keep moving east. Two more hours of marching, and we'll reach the target you wanted to strike."

"They were few," I insisted. "I expected more resistance from these slavers. They were supposed to be preparing for our arrival, but their outer defenses are minimal. If we reach the quarry where they mine their iron, we'll strike them hard. It'll directly hit their ability to arm themselves for what's coming."

As I spoke, I adjusted the pauldrons of my armor, clicking them back into place with a faint snap.

"You know Volantis has several mines and quarries," said Antti, still on his horse. "This one's important, sure, but not the only one. It's within high operational range, I'll admit, but I don't know if it justifies you personally being here. Fifty of my brothers could've handled it. In a week, you'd have your results."

"We don't have a week, Antti…" I said as I began walking toward my horse. "If the Dothraki return and Volantis is armed, all they'll do is wait. Wait until the horse-lords have bled us dry—of gold, of men, of food… and when that happens, they'll just walk through our fortifications demanding surrender."

I passed one of the bodies, its face still twisted in fear. I paused a moment, then kept going.

"As long as they don't return, we'll burn everything we can—sawmills, mines, farms. And we'll free as many slaves as possible. Let them spread chaos, dismantle the production chain from within… or work for us if they wish. Cheap labor, yes. But more importantly: a lifetime hatred of their former masters."

"True enough…" Antti murmured.

Then, with barely a movement, he turned in the saddle. His hand went to the quiver, pulled out an arrow, and notched it in one fluid motion. He fired without hesitation.

The arrow whistled through the air and buried itself in the eye of a guard who had thought himself hidden in one of the watchtowers. The body dropped without a sound, like a dead leaf.

"You missed one," Antti said as he calmly returned the bow to his back, as casually as adjusting a belt.

"Let's get out of here," I said, heading back to my horse.

I mounted my steed, and we began galloping toward the iron quarry. The road was rough, crossing highlands and neglected fields. We found little presence of guards in the area. The roads were mostly empty. All the merchants were heading south, following the old stone paths the Valyrians had built centuries ago. Here, instead, silence ruled the plain.

There were almost no signs of human life, except for a few scattered farmers tending vast grain fields or herding large flocks of livestock that fed the cities to the east. On the way back… we might take them all.

The two hours Antti had mentioned soon passed. Before us, the hills appeared. One of them, split down the middle, revealed a gaping wound in the earth: a massive quarry, the size of a village, where thousands of bodies moved ceaselessly under the sun.

"Strange. When I heard it was an iron quarry, I thought they were idiots… but no. The damn hill is the color of hematite," I said while watching through the spyglass.

"Yeah, an entire hill made of iron," Antti replied. "The problem is, it's far from Volantis compared to other mines. Operating it costs them more, which is why they don't extract as much as they could. But down there, they have enough iron to arm thousands. And if this keeps running… hundreds of thousands."

"How many guards do you see?" I asked, without looking away.

The Finns with us exchanged quick, hushed words among themselves. Antti turned his head to me.

"Roughly three hundred. We have six hundred. We outnumber them two to one. The quarry has only one entrance, a wooden gate that doesn't even look reinforced. Not very thick. I figure you could knock it down if you charged it hard enough."

"Yes. Let's do it," I replied, dismounting calmly.

"Lothar, don't be stupid," Antti said with a frustrated sigh. "Let's wait for nightfall. It won't take long for the sun to set. When they're asleep, we'll scale the wall. They might not even have guards up there."

I stayed quiet. But my eyes were already fixed on that wooden door. One strike would be enough. Just one.

"Alright, we'll wait for nightfall. Worst case, it'll be the same… and I doubt they'll hear about the three guard posts we annihilated on the way here until the day after tomorrow," I said as we pulled back with the group.

We withdrew a few hundred meters and hid among a nearby wheat field. The tall, dry stalks whispered softly in the wind. We remained silent as the hours passed, until finally the sky darkened and night fell like a shroud over the valley. Then we returned to the observation point.

"What did I tell you?" Antti murmured. His voice was calm, almost mocking. Even with his usual mask, I knew he was smiling underneath.

There were barely any guards. Just two at the main gate. One of them was visibly falling asleep, his head bobbing up and down erratically, as if the weight of exhaustion was about to crush him entirely.

"Let's go," said Antti briefly.

We crept forward under the cover of darkness, crouching low to reach the far side of the sentries. The Finns were the first to scale the wall. They used hooks and steady hands, and within seconds they disappeared over the wood. From the other side, they threw down a rope.

One by one, they began to cross. I waited my turn. I climbed in silence, trying not to let the Valyrian steel of my armor make more noise than necessary. I clenched my teeth as I ascended, feeling the plates scrape against each other. Still, I managed to leap down the other side without much trouble.

Antti looked at me for a moment and pointed toward the taller buildings at the far end of the compound.

"That's where the guards must be sleeping. Slit their throats… Lothar, if anything happens at the gate, you open it for us," he said in his low, direct tone.

Without another word, he and his men began to slip between the buildings that surrounded the quarry. Like shadows, they vanished into the dusty alleys and stone columns.

I stayed behind for a long while, leaning against one of the inner walls. The silence was thick. Only the soft wind and the distant footsteps of night slaves still working could be heard.

I kicked a stone with my toe, more out of boredom than nerves.

I watched the two gate guards. They barely moved, nearly asleep. Suddenly, figures emerged behind them, silent. One of the guards collapsed at his post without a sound. The second fell moments later. Not a cry. Not an alarm. Just the soft whisper of a precise death.

A few more minutes passed. Then, from the shadows, Antti reappeared. His arms and legs were soaked in blood, dripping down to his elbows. None of it was his.

"It's done… we've taken control of the quarry. What now?" he asked, breathless, though his tone was as calm as ever.

"Kill the freemen and free the slaves. Burn everything. And see if we can trigger a structural collapse… something that will take time to repair. If we cut off their ore production, it'll cost them dearly to recover," I said, observing the depth of the wound in the rock.

Antti nodded without another word. He gave the orders to his men with quick gestures and brief signals.

The fire broke out shortly after. Flames spread across the wood stores, the workshops, the warehouses. The structures holding up the quarry platforms began to creak, weakening.

I had to use a pickaxe to finish the job. Blow after blow, striking at the already fractured rock, searching for a weak point. And I found it. A deep crack gave way. A thunderous crash echoed through the quarry as an entire section of the extraction front collapsed, crashing down onto the lower platforms.

It all happened without a single scream. The Finns were efficient: they covered their victims' mouths before stabbing them, one by one, in silence.

We distributed supplies among the freed slaves. We gave them tools, food, and pointed them toward paths where they could flee. We told them where they'd be safe if they chose not to return.

Thousands left. Some ran. Others stared with cautious disbelief, still not trusting what they were seeing.

On the way back, we raided nearby farms and stole their livestock. This time, the freed slaves helped us, carrying supplies and herding the animals. The night ended with smoke in the air, scorched earth… and Volantis just a little weaker.

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Regarding the poll, here's another point I'd like to bring up based on popular recommendation.

My friend is leaning toward a protagonist who is arrogant in the sense of "I'm better than everyone else"—but ultimately well-meaning and trying to help others. Think of it as a proud anti-hero with good intentions.

In contrast, I prefer a selfish protagonist. Not someone who necessarily sees himself as superior, but someone who only cares about himself. His primary goal is to never feel vulnerable—especially when it comes to money. From my perspective, selfishness is the most human trait a person from this century can have. It's an anti-hero that leans much closer to becoming a villain.

That said, if you have any personality suggestions you'd like to see in the main character, feel free to share them!

-HERE-