Kohor, a free trading city-state on the Essos continent, was once a colony of the Valyrian Empire. Due to its strategic position along the trade routes between the eastern and western parts of the continent, it amassed great wealth. When the Doom of Valyria struck, the empire collapsed, and Kohor became an independent city-state. Now, it is governed by the city's high aristocracy.
At dawn, the first light of day tore through the dark fabric of the night, and the bustling energy of life surged forth.
The tumult caused by the gathering of the Dothraki horde inevitably alerted the spies from Kohor, who hastened back to the city, situated over sixty miles away from the Dothraki camp.
The Dothraki have arrived!
This startling news reverberated throughout the entire city of Kohor, shaking both commoners and nobles with fear. First, two Dothraki tribes had clashed near the Hidden Stream River outside the city, then their envoy, upon entering the Dothraki camp, had disappeared without a trace. Now, the Dothraki were marching toward Kohor.
Within the city, the chaos caused by the secret plans of the followers of the Lord of Light, R'hllor, to burn the statue of the Black Goat had yet to subside. The common people, panic-stricken by the sudden evacuation of nearby villages and the hurried closing of the city gates, were in an uproar. Meanwhile, the prophecy of the blood-mage, Balthor Potter, spread among the high aristocracy, leaving the nobles so desperate they nearly fled the city. It was clear the city was in disarray.
Moreover, Kohor had not seen the ravages of war for over four centuries, and now, in this time of crisis, no one in the city knew how to respond. In their desperation, the high aristocrats reluctantly handed full control of the city's defense to the commander of the guard, Salo Kort. Though Salo was not particularly clever, his greatest strength lay in his caution. Under his leadership, a decision was swiftly made: hold the walls, shut the gates, stabilize the people, negotiate with the followers of R'hllor to calm the situation, and send word to the city-state of Norvos for aid.
Norvos was an ally of Kohor, and together, they had defeated Volantis in the Battle of the Fire Ships at Knife Lake when Volantis sought to rebuild the Valyrian Empire. Moreover, Norvos was the city-state closest to Kohor.
For the cautious Salo Kort, he trusted the well-trained, obedient Unsullied far more than the complacent, undertrained locals of Kohor or the mercenary bands whose loyalty could be bought. As such, he did not urgently seek reinforcements in his emergency measures.
At midday, with the scorching sun high in the sky, burning the stone walls, and not a breeze in the air, everything felt suffocatingly still.
Salo Kort, though of noble birth, could not compare to the Unsullied, who had endured inhuman training. After just half an hour on the city walls, he was already desperate for a refreshing drink from the well.
At that moment, the water in the copper basin rippled, and a rising tremor followed. Panicked, Salo Kort tossed his cloth aside and rushed back to the city walls. There, he dropped to the parapet and gazed out toward the horizon.
A billowing cloud of dust rose, and the thunderous roar of hooves reverberated through the air. The Dothraki cavalry, like a tempest, swept forward, rolling like a monstrous wave, covering the land. From his position on the high wall, Salo Kort suddenly felt Kohor seemed small and insignificant, as if it were a speck of sand stranded on the shore. He muttered to himself:
"The Black Goat... this is the true Dothraki Sea."
Thirty thousand roaring Dothraki warriors, their horses shrieking in the wind, sent waves of sound soaring through the clouds, reaching into the heavens.
Monggo, riding his muscular red warhorse, galloped up the hill outside the city. His long black braids fluttered behind him, clinking with the sound of bells.
As he gazed at the spiked helmets protruding from the city walls, he knew the Kohorians were already prepared. Beneath those helmets were the famous Unsullied.
A single Dothraki rider, leading the bound envoy Morey Hert, rode toward the foot of Kohor's walls. At the outer limit of archery range, he halted his horse, throwing Morey Hert to the ground. The Dothraki rider dismounted and, under the watchful eyes of the city's defenders, cruelly severed the envoy's limbs. After a brief display of power, he remounted and rode off.
Standing atop the hill, Monggo shook his head in resignation. He sighed, reflecting on the Dothraki's intelligence—or lack thereof. Looking at Morey Hert, writhing silently on the ground like a worm, Monggo wondered why the cloth stuffed in his mouth wasn't removed. How could they expect to strike terror into the enemy without the sounds of agony and screams?
Fortunately, Morey Hert, being of noble rank, had some value. Two Unsullied descended in a basket from the walls, intending to carry him back into the city.
Taking advantage of the moment, the elder Ovor rode swiftly outside the city, shouting in Valyrian:
"This man is named Morey Hert, the masked priest of the Black Goat, and the envoy sent by Kohor to Monggo Ka'o's camp. He told us that the blood-mage Balthor Potter received a prophecy, foretelling that Monggo Ka'o, with the help of the Flames, will breach Kohor's walls. When that happens, the streets will be filled with decapitated corpses, and the followers of the Black Goat will wail helplessly in the flames. Monggo Ka'o warns the people of Kohor to open the gates and submit, or on the day of the city's fall, we will massacre all of the Black Goat's followers."
It soon became apparent that the cautious strategy of Commander Salo Kort had been the correct one. The Unsullied manning the walls remained unshaken.
However, Salo's own anxiety remained. He cast a cold gaze upon his slaves.
Yet, as he looked at the Kohorian officers of noble birth, their slaves, the countless archers, and the laborers hauling supplies—most of them locals—he could only abandon his thoughts. Unless he slaughtered them all, the news would inevitably spread.
Monggo, seeing no reaction from the walls, knew his psychological tactics had failed for the time being.
He turned his gaze upward at the Unsullied, who were now carrying Morey Hert in the basket, calculating the distance. Gripping his spear, Monggo charged down the hill like an arrow, leaping onto his horse.
A hundred paces away, he hurled his spear with all his might. The spear flew like lightning, impaling an Unsullied soldier on the city wall.
Moments later, the defenders responded with panic, shooting arrows that fell harmlessly at Monggo's feet, though his horse was startled by a few. Monggo wisely refrained from further action, for he knew the next volley might come from a giant crossbow.
"Monggo Ka'o."
"Monggo Ka'o."
The Dothraki warriors roared his name, their fervent cries ringing in the air.
At this point, though the psychological warfare had not yet yielded the desired result, the rumors within the city would soon spread.
Without siege weapons, the thirty thousand Dothraki riders could only watch the city, make a show of force, and then retreat to camp, preparing to encircle the city.