[A/N:Now I am working on Doom of Valyria and recruiting of Melisandre.Also to create order of wizards.Like MC creating an avatar Merlin, then creating spirits like Gandalf, Saruman and even OC that looks like Morgan Freeman. Last, but not least I am going to reuse some of story points from a previous fic.]
It was around c. 200 BC that the Valyrians annexed Dragonstone, an island in the Narrow Sea just off the eastern coast of Westeros. The Targaryen family takes control of the island, which is used as a trading post with the Seven Kingdoms.
The Valyrians arrival was noted by Reach, Dorne and North, they did not do anything against them because Valyria a were using the island as trading posts.Also Driftmark, which was an Island close to Dragonstone was occupied by House of Velaryon's, who also had close ties with the Three alliances.
Eru seeing this from his palace muttered"So the end of Valyria is coming?"
Eru telepathically called Ares, who appears behind his grandfather in a burst of flames.
Eru smiled at him.
Ares is built like a warrior, with broad shoulders and a defined physique. He has intense, dark brown eyes and long, flowing black hair.
His face is sculpted with sharp cheekbones, he has a short, well-groomed beard that accentuates his strong jawline.
Ares wears imposing armor, often adorned with rams and other symbols of war.
Ares spoke up, his voice resonating with authority and determination, "Grandfather, did you need anything?" Ever the stalwart guardian, he stood ever ready to fulfill his role as Eru's trusted enforcer.
Eru nodded gravely, his countenance etched with concern. "Yes, the Valyrians seem to tread a darker path. Their practitioners of magic have allied with the priestesses of R'hllor in a bid to unleash abominations upon the world. They tamper with forces beyond their control, birthing blood demons and vampires, creatures that hunger for mortal blood. Left unchecked, these monstrosities will sow destruction."
Ares's expression betrayed a hint of shock at the revelation. Though he had witnessed the descent of the Valyrians into darkness, the creation of such abominations still filled him with disgust. "Ignorant fools," he muttered under his breath, his disdain palpable.
Eru sighed wearily, his gaze heavy with sorrow. "They have long been consumed by their obsession with gods and immortality. These experiments are but a futile attempt to grasp eternal life."
Rising to his feet, Ares declared with steely resolve, "I will eradicate these monsters, grandfather."
Eru nodded in acknowledgment, his features lined with a mixture of pride and apprehension. "I trust in your determination. Yet, know that the Red priestesses have already disseminated the method of their creation to the Shadowlands. We must also rely on your followers to purge these hives whenever they emerge."
Ares nodded said in conviction "Don'y worry grandfather, I will train my followers to hunt them down, where ever they appear."he was young god.But he still gained a good amount of followers because of his father and mother.
Ares nodded, his voice brimming with conviction. "Don't worry, grandfather. I will train my followers to hunt them down wherever they appear." Despite his youth among the gods, his lineage, borne of his father and mother, had garnered him a substantial following.
Ares blessed and instructed his chosen priests and priestesses, he honed their skills in the ancient art of monster hunting and fighting. Venturing into the treacherous depths of the Shadowlands, he discovered a myriad of creatures, some as old as the beginning of the world itself, while others had been wrought into existence by the twisted sorceries of Asshai's dark practitioners.
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the Temple of Ares stood as a hallowed sanctuary, where warriors sought enlightenment under the tutelage of Ares's revered priests and priestesses. Within its sacred confines, a repository of wisdom on warfare, strategies, weapons craft, and martial disciplines was enshrined.
Countless warriors embarked upon pilgrimages to beseech Ares's favor, yearning for divine blessings to grace their forthcoming battles. For it was whispered amongst mortals that those who fell valiantly in combat would be ushered by Ares himself into the embrace of a resplendent afterlife.
Moreover, the selection of the Temple's Priests and Priestess bore stringent criteria, borne of their solemn duty to scour the realms for monsters and practitioners of nefarious sorceries, whose malevolence threatened the fragile balance of the mortal realm.
The Priest and Priestess of Ares have a sacred emblem adorns the foreheads of his chosen priests and priestesses - the indelible mark of the ram. Symbolizing their unwavering dedication to the god of war, this sigil distinguishes them as vessels of martial prowess and guardians of righteous conflict. Thus adorned, they stand as living testaments to the enduring bond between mortal and deity, their every action an homage to the valor and resolve of the fearsome Ares.
Excerpts from "The Temple Of War" by scholar Morgan from Tower of Dorne
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