Lysa spread the secret intelligence report across the massive chart table, the candlelight dancing on her focused face. She began her briefing, her voice clear and steady.
"First, we have the 'Kingdom of the Three Daughters'—the alliance of Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr—entrenched in the northeastern islands." Her fingertip tapped the location of Bloodstone. "They possess sixty to seventy warships, including twelve formidable heavy galleys. With a total force of roughly 3,600 men, they are the strongest power in the region."
"They operate under the guise of an 'Official Navy'," Lysa said, a hint of irony in her tone. "In reality, they systematically plunder merchant vessels, traffic in human beings, and levy exorbitant tolls on all passing ships. It is worth noting that they maintain profitable relationships with certain coastal lords in Dorne."
She moved her finger to the central waters. "Next is the 'Pirate Alliance' based on unnamed rocks like Grey Gallows. They command thirty to forty small-to-medium warships and a force of 2,000 to 3,000 men. Though their equipment is crude, they know every channel and hidden reef, roaming these waters like sea snakes."
"They specialize in guerrilla tactics, often disguising themselves as Triarchy fleets to conduct false-flag raids," Lysa added. "However, this alliance is fractured, riddled with internal factions, and lacks unified command."
Finally, her finger swept across the scattered smaller islands. "The most critical group to watch is these loose, independent pirate gangs. They are spread across the islands like sea roaches. While individual gangs are small, their combined numbers could reach one to two hundred small longships, with a total manpower of around 5,000."
"These outlaws are poorly equipped, live by ambush, and constantly fight amongst themselves." Lysa looked up, a strategist's sharpness in her eyes. "Because of this, they are the force most ripe for recruitment. They could become our greatest asset—or our biggest obstacle. This is the largest pool of manpower; if used correctly, they can be the blade in our hand."
Lysa unrolled another thick parchment on the table, densely packed with details on the various factions. As the candlelight flickered, she began to list the pirate crews that ruled the Stepstones:
"The Bloodfang Gang." Her finger pointed to Grey Gallows. "Based in Black Rock Bay. About three hundred men, eight modified longships. Their leader is Godric 'Bloodfang,' a slaver-hunter wanted by Tyrosh. Every member wears a necklace of bronze fangs. Rumor has it their sails are tanned from human skin. They specialize in raiding slave ships and merchant caravans and are known for their bloodthirst."
She moved her finger. "The Brotherhood of the Mist. Stationed on the isle of Cruel Deep. About a hundred and fifty men, five specially built fast ships. Their flag depicts a silver scaled cloak on a black field. They are composed of exiled assassins from Volantis who possess ancient charts and knowledge of astrological arts. Their leader is called 'The Mist,' identity unknown. They strike under the cover of heavy fog, appearing and vanishing like ghosts."
"The Tide Blades." Her finger landed on Driftwood Island. "About two hundred men, six light warships. Their base is hidden in cliffside caves. Their flag bears a poisoned wavy dagger. Established by Aurane Waters, the 'Bastard of Driftmark,' a bastard of House Velaryon." Lysa's tone held a note of amusement. "They exclusively target ships from the Triarchy, and their raiding style carries a peculiar mix of noble elegance and cruelty."
Lysa continued the report: "The Skeleton Galley Fleet. Stationed at the Shipwreck Graveyard on Broken Sword Island. They have three large galleys and about four hundred desperadoes. Their flag is a simple white skull. Their leader is Captain Marlos 'The Bone,' a former slaver from Myr. They are infamous for their brutality, often nailing captives to their masts as a warning."
"The Iron Claw Mercenaries." Her finger moved to Blackwater Cove. "About three hundred and fifty men, ten Dornish-style warships. Their flag is a broken sword embedded with an iron anchor. Formed by exiled Dornish sellswords, they favor curved blades and poisoned darts. Their leader, Kahir 'The Scorpion,' is known for taking ransoms rather than killing indiscriminately, though he is vicious to his enemies."
"The Abyssal Throat." Lysa pointed to the Disputed Lands. "About two hundred men, five converted merchant ships. Flag: A skull stamped with a gold coin. They operate near the black markets, specializing in fencing stolen goods and providing logistical support to other pirates. They function more like a maritime crime syndicate than true raiders."
"The Black Sail Avengers. Based in the caves of Broken Soul Cliff. About a hundred and twenty men, three black-sailed ships. Symbol: A bleeding black sail. Little is known about them, but they reportedly target Triarchy slave ships exclusively."
"The Gold Tooth Raiders." Lysa's finger moved to the mouth of the Honeywine (or a local estuary). "About a hundred men, three clippers. Based in an abandoned lighthouse. Members wear gold tiger-tooth necklaces. A privateer fleet formed by Myrish jewelers to raid the caravans of their competitors." Her tone dripped with sarcasm. "Their leader, Leo Tiriano, was once a jeweler himself; now he's the man who knows the gem trade routes best."
Finally, she pointed to Screaming Rock. "The Weeping Fleet. About two hundred and fifty men, six large transport ships. Based in a cave complex. Their prows are carved in the shape of weeping women. Organized by Tyroshi slavers to facilitate the slave trade—essentially a privateer fleet providing 'protection' for human trafficking."
Lysa looked up, the candlelight reflecting in her eyes. "These are the pirate forces in the Stepstones we have fully investigated. Each has its own fighting style and territory. Knowing this will help us formulate a more effective strategy." She continued, "Moving forward, we need to gather more intelligence on these groups to see which can be won over, which can be used, which can be bought, and which need to be wiped out."
Euron's finger lightly traced the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea on the map. "We have eyes in every port city—from merchants in Pentos to dockworkers in Braavos, from assassins in Myr to slavers in Lys." His voice was low and calculating. "But now, we must weave this web tighter and deeper."
"Focus on the movements of the Triarchy—Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr. I want to know about every Magister's lavish feast, every secret deal made by the trade guilds, and the departure time of every warship." Euron's fingertip pressed hard onto the location of the three cities. "Their ambitions and their fears, their alliances and their betrayals—we need to know it all."
Lysa nodded solemnly, a light of understanding in her eyes. She was already mentally calculating how to mobilize the sleeper agents in the Free Cities, and how to turn greedy merchants and disaffected nobles into their eyes and ears.
Euron's gaze drifted to the distance, as if piercing through the waves and time to land on a familiar figure. He hadn't forgotten Edwin Ramirez—the pirate captain who had traveled with him for three years, forging a bond through storms and blood.
The candle flickered in the study as Euron dipped his quill in ink, scratching characters onto the parchment. Edwin's face floated in his mind: the scar across his left eye, that cynical smile, and his cunning ability to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. They were partners who had shared wine and spoils, comrades who had watched each other's backs amidst flashing steel.
"Old friend," Euron's quill paused slightly. "I wonder if you still keep that heart that yearns for freedom and the unknown."
Euron couldn't be sure if Edwin would help.
Since they parted ways in Lys three years ago, they had walked different paths. But Euron needed a true pirate—a free soul who knew every undercurrent and faction of the Stepstones but was bound by no king.
The letter was soon filled. Euron sealed it with the kraken wax of House Greyjoy. This was not an order, but an invitation. An opportunity.
"May the waves carry my message to the right ears," Euron whispered to himself. This former friend might be exactly the piece he needed on the board of the Stepstones.
---
(The report continues...)
"The Iron Island Exiles." Her finger landed on Broken Bone Island. "About one hundred and eighty men, four Iron Islands-style longships. Their flag is a broken Driftwood King's anchor. Composed of Ironborn banished by Lord Quellon, led by Urgon 'Anchor-Breaker'." Lysa's tone was complicated. "They specialize in raiding Lannister merchant ships. Their style is typical Ironborn: fierce and efficient."
"The Ghost Fleet." Lysa pointed to Mist Island. "Details are unclear. Rumored to possess three phantom-like warships. Flag: A ghost ship. They appear and disappear in the fog zones, attacking passing vessels. They leave no survivors, so information is extremely scarce."