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Crystal Castles has something that makes me want to write more to get to the big Asoiaf wars fast.
~~~Third Person, Second Moon, 277 AC~~~
~~~Qarth~~~
A guard saw the prostitute Lyseni leave his master's room, which made him frown, especially since it hadn't been more than ten minutes since she and his master had entered to do them. Activities and years of serving him had made him aware of the range of time he could be kept in that room, which made him hesitate.
So, following his instinct, he entered the room.
The room, contrary to what he expected, did not smell of sex; instead, it felt cold and oppressive, with its loose curtains blocking out the sunlight, along with the eerie silence in the room, which made the man uncomfortable.
As he approached his master, he watched as he 'slept' pleasantly in his bed. The striking thing was that the bed was not untidy; even the other pillows on the bed were tidy.
Thinking the worst, the guard approached the Pureblood Nikloz, lying face down. "My lord," he commented quietly, approaching his master and waiting for him to respond.
There, he noticed some marks on his back and finger marks, and as he approached his lord's face, he realized that he was not breathing.
Immediately, he stood up and rang a bell hanging on the wall, alarming the wing and the entire palace.
He didn't have to wait long when more guards entered the doors with their weapons drawn. Finding the guard near Nikloz, "Alert the palace; your lordships, the Purebloods are in danger, and capture those Lyseni whores!"
With the order given, the guards left the room in search of the other Purebloods present in the palace, as well as to bring about the capture of the Lyseni women. However, the scenes they encountered were ones of astonishment and anger.
In each of the rooms they went to, they found the guards at the gates murdered, along with the Purebloods dead in their beds and with the same marks on their backs.
The situation in the palace of the Purebloods turned into complete confusion and furor. Guards rushed to the Purebloods' rooms in an attempt to protect those who were still alive.
However, the truth, as bitter as it was, was that the eight members that made up the Pureblood group of Qarth eight had died, making the whole picture a complete disgrace and dismay for all the highborns.
Half an hour later, the Thirteen of Qarth, the Ancient Spice Guild, and the Brotherhood of Tourmaline gathered in the Hall of a Thousand Thrones, once used by and only by the Purebloods for their meetings.
With the death of the Purebloods, the city had fallen into uncertainty and intense political strife, with many wanting a piece of the pie while at the same time seeking to gain some of the power that the Purebloods had left behind.
At this point, these men no longer cared about seeking the culprits of the Purebloods' deaths but fought as sons of a household where their mother died and left an inheritance.
"Right now, the most important issue is to control the regretful men and the armies of Qarth. Xandar could be at our gates at any moment, and we have made no preparations beforehand." The elder, who had discoursed with Xaro a few days ago, took control of the meeting.
Many were silent when the elder began to speak, showing he enjoyed a good presence within the circle. "And how will the distribution of powers be? The Purebloods controlled over eighty thousand infants, so I propose that the power distribution be equal."
"Excuse me?" the elder asked with a serious look. He hadn't liked the question.
"Yes, with the distribution of power, we..." The man could not finish speaking because he was interrupted on the spot. "There will be no such thing as me, as the last direct member of the Purebloods, so I must be the one to take the power to protect us from Xandar."
"Hahaha." Many laughed when they heard the old man's statement, unable to hear such barbarity from someone older and who, in their eyes, had gone mad and senile.
"Age has already taken its toll on you if you think you will get everything those sons of bitches left, so go rid yourself of such a thought." A member of the Thirteen stood up from his chair and ranted while the old man just stood silently.
"Sit down," the old man said suddenly, and as if by magic, the man was missed and fell flat on his face, hitting the floor and breaking his nose.
"Let it be clear to everyone," the old man said as he rose from his seat and addressed everyone assembled. "From now on, the power of Qarth is controlled by me, plus no one else, and if you dare to rise and seek obeisance, take more than you already have," At this point, he looked at the man still on the ground, who was unable to get up, as if an invisible force was imprisoning him against the ground, "you will know that the results will not be pleasant."
"Now, as the leader of all Qarth, I order that every owner of any ship yield the power of it, as well, and from now on, all the guards you possess will be handed over for the protection of the city."
After saying that, the old man left the room, leaving the other men with a bad taste in their mouths. The man on the floor was able to get up once the old man left, with his nose still bleeding and his face angry at the humiliation.
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As the 'leaders' of Qarth gathered in the Hall of a Thousand Thrones, the soldiers on the city walls, where three soldiers chatted animatedly as they watched the unsullied camp in the distance.
"Dickless soldiers, now if I've seen it all," one of the three said dismissively as he spat over the edge of the wall.
"I don't believe that about them not having cocks, Fabio," one of his companions replied to Fabius, causing Fabius to snort, "have you ever seen his cocks?" He asked him, looking at Ramiro with a raised eyebrow, "Everyone knows that unsullied men don't have cocks, it's sometimes strange to see men fight without them, because, how would they enjoy victory?"
"Men live for less; for my part, just by killing enemies, I am happy," replied Francisco, the third of the group, making the other two laugh. "You're right about that." Fabius agreed.
"Getting serious, what do you think of the Xandarian army? Is it as big and strong as the stories say?" Ramiro asked, inserting a topic of conversation that caused the atmosphere to sour greatly.
"The Xandarian army can suck my dick," Fabius replied lightly, earning a dubious laugh from his group. "Come on, don't look at me like that," Fabius said after seeing how they looked at him.
"What can give us trouble are the dickless men; otherwise, it's a piece of cake; their count is unsullied; as for the Dothraki, they are savages without armor who can't conquer a wall."
"You forget the dragons; the stories tell that a single dragon could win a war," Francis said, making Fabius and Ramiro laugh aloud.
"You are a fool if you believe those fanciful stories. There is no such thing as a dragon; if there is, the scorpions can take care of them."
At that precise moment, multiple loud sounds began to be heard from the horizon, from the road connecting Qarth to the abandoned city of Vaes Qosar.
The horizon, which at first showed dunes and sparse trees, became more and more filled with dots in the distance, with tall towers showing on the periphery.
The great siege towers, pulled by the devastators, were the first thing the three men could observe when using their distant eyes (spyglasses). As if that were not enough, goats pulled other siege weapons, including scorpions and dynamite cannons.
That was the reason why the advance of the imperishable horde had been delayed. Although the ride from Tavalar presented no delay to reach the lands near Qarth, which would result in the horde arriving in only four (4) days, the use of siege weapons for this occasion slowed down the march a little, lengthening it to seven (7) days.
This time, of the twelve (12) legions that made up the undying horde, only five (5) were called to ride to Qarth, as the others were spread out in various parts of Xandar's territory, whether in the Dothraki Sea, conquering the khalasars that were not yet under Azrael's control, as well as conquering the cities west of the Slave Bay. However, that did not present a problem since even with only five (5) legions marching, they had a cavalry of one hundred thousand men (100,000).
Combined with the ten thousand-man Unsullied infantry (10,000), the Xandarian advance guard was a focused war machine that was challenging to defeat.
"Looks like I was wrong," Fabius said after observing how everyone wore armor; even the horses wore it, showing how little or none they knew of Xandar. "I was just about to realize that," Francis sarcastically replied. Earning a scowl from Fabius.
Ultimately, no matter what they thought, the harsh reality was in front of them, with the Xandarian army coming to their doorstep like a storm was to a sailing ship.