Dorne, Yronwood
Neferion
It took him almost a moon to get to his new home, but he was in no hurry to travel anyway. He spent most of this period in Sunspear enjoying the taste of a job well done.
Of course, he still intended to return to the capital in the near future, for he still had a short campaign ahead of him on the Stepstones, in which he intended to cleanse the islands of all piracy and erect his magic tower on Bloodstone, the largest island there.
The Valyrians tolerated the pirates, who knew well which ships were better left alone, but if someone as powerful as he had taken control of the area, they could not sit idly by.
He wanted this to be a test for the so-called 'dragonlords' – how their magic and the power of their flying lizards would work against the defences he had brought with him from Nirn.
For now, however, he planned to efficiently take control of the Yronwood fortress and vast areas of their lands. According to Nymeria and the maps he had seen, as former kings, they were second only to the Martells themselves in strength and wealth. They may not have had the largest territory under them, but their lands were certainly the most fertile.
He had to applaud Nymeria for this idea. On the one hand, she was getting rid of her closest rival, while at the same time washing her hands of what she could do against the mighty saviour of Dorne.
On the other hand, she was creating a link between him and Dorne by offering him lands of his own free from paying taxes and obliged only to sell the crops of the land at undistinguished prices.
In addition, she was protecting Dorne from a potential invasion from the Stormlands, believing that he would feel obligated to defend his lands, and she was right.
Was there a downside to this plan for the princess? He didn't think so. The only risk she could consider was that he would decide to take over Dorne. But if he really wanted to, he wouldn't need any strongholds or lands. He would simply force Dorne into submission, breaking their will with the power of his Thu'um.
Although looking at the formidable castle leaning against the mountainside and the fields and forests stretching around it, he had to admit that it reminded him of the good old days when he had collected houses all over Tamriel.
Now all that was left was to deal with Caspian, the only living son of the late Anders Yronwood, and the men loyal to them.
Cancelling the shout, he gracefully landed lightly in front of the keep's gates in front of the stunned guards and a few other people who happened to be nearby. He spoke with a voice full of weight and absolute certainty before anyone could even react.
"I am Neferion Aldmeri, Dovahkiin, Bane of the Ironborn and Saviour of Dorne. In the name of Princess Nymeria, I am here to take control of this castle and the lands belonging to the Yronwood family... I expect a peaceful welcome... You do not want the same thing to happen to you as the pirates."
He then entered unceremoniously through the open main gate, passing the perplexed guards. Inside, he was greeted by a mass of spears and arrowheads aimed at him. He opened his mouth, from which only one word escaped.
"REL" (Domination)
He used it to exert pressure and authority on all living beings present in the castle. Suddenly, as if a huge weight rested on their shoulders, they fell to their knees and then to their faces, feeling the weight of his will on them.
Feeling that they had already sufficiently understood the difference between them, he lifted his intent from them. Some of them rose unsteadily to their feet, while the rest remained on the ground terrified.
And well. Fear would keep them alive for now, keeping them from resisting.
"You probably want to know why all this happened.... Well, your now former lord insulted me and urged me to assist in a coup against the princess of Nymeria, not necessarily in that order.... I killed him, and as reparation, I received his lands." He explained slowly word by word.
"I promise you one thing. Justice and protection, and if you are faithful, you will live better than ever under the Yronwoods. Should it occur to you, however, to rebel against me, know that there are worse things than death, and I can just as easily bend your minds to my will."
"Think of it as your Seven Who Are One. I can be a mother to you, tender and caring, and a father who protects you, or I can become like the Stanger, and then your lives and souls will be doomed."
Then he ran his gaze over the guards and servants present, stopping it at a young boy , no older than ten springs, dressed in clearly more expensive and better-made clothes, with blond hair and blue eyes in which fear mixed with anger shone. Yes... he saw the resemblance.
"You, boy. You're Caspian Yronwood, aren't you?" He asked, pointing his hand at him, to which the man there nodded uncertainly, and all the blood drained from his face.
"Come here; I want to have a look at you.... You don't have to be afraid. I don't kill children." He assured, a warmer note creeping into his tone.
The boy hesitantly approached and looked at his feet as he stood before him, but after a moment he clenched his fists and looked into Dovahkiin's eyes with clear defiance.
Neferion held out his massive hand, at which the boy gasped and closed his eyes, but he merely ruffled his hair and then laughed out loud. The sound carried like an echo, bouncing off the walls of the fortress.
The young Caspian looked at him in surprise, touching his own head with his small hand, as if shocked by his behaviour and unaccustomed to such gestures. Well, Anders Yronwood did not give the impression of an exemplary father. His ego rivalled that of the Daedric Princes, where, however, there was real power behind their arrogance.
"I like your spirit, Caspian." He said to the boy, and placing a hand on his shoulder, he led him towards the keep entrance, turning to the man who looked like the Master-at-arms who had previously trained the young Yronwood, "Find me a maester and the other key men in the keep, then bring them to the lord's solar."
The man gave the boy a worried look and bowed his head, "Yes, my lord."
Neferion looked at the boy. "Show me where your father's solar is; we will wait for the others there. We have many things to discuss, including your future."
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Stormlands, Storm's End
Arrec Durrandon,
King of the Stormlands
Arrec looked at the map of Westeros with a dejected expression. His kingdom was in a difficult situation, and he could only hope that the enemies surrounding it did not notice that it was currently a giant with feet of clay.
Numerous skirmishes with the Gardeners, Lannisters and Arryns over the years had depleted both his forces and resources. Occasional rebellions by the riverlords had their share, but in recent years his greatest scourge had been the ironborn, who had been raiding the riverlands almost every year.
However, the latest news that reached him, improbable in itself, if true, solved one of his problems, creating another much bigger one.
According to his spies, a living god or sorcerer appeared in Dorne, so powerful that he could pass for one. Not only did he single-handedly destroy the Ironborn fleet, killing that son of a bitch Qhorwyn and most of the lords of the Iron Islands, but he then defended Sunspear from the combined forces of Qhorin and the pirates from Stepstones.
With his powers, he could incinerate entire fleets, strengthen allies, and weaken and disarm enemies. He also had a magical spear of light. And the Seven only know what else.
He really didn't want to believe the information in the letter, but Renna was one of his best spies and had served him faithfully for over 20 years, providing much valuable information, and in return her family lived in an affluence that the commoners could only dream of.
In addition, rumours, news, and gossip, carried mainly by Essos merchants, who had also visited the capital of Dorne, began to reach the Stormlands soon after. They even swore that they had seen a golden-skinned man of extraordinary height with reptilian eyes and pointed ears walking the streets of Shadow City.
He was torn from his thoughts by a knock on the door of his solar. A second later Osmund, the leader of his spy network, and his younger half-brother appeared there, bringing with them a portly man of average height of Essos descent, dressed in good quality but not excessively extravagant robes.
"Brother, do I understand that this is important? And who is this man?" the king asked, frowning with irritation. He had been easily angered lately, which he justified with the situation his kingdom was in.
His brother smiled slightly. "Yes, my king. The news is indeed important. This honest man, Darius, is a merchant from Braavos who was in Sunspear during and after the Ironborn attack," he said, pointing to the man who was fidgeting nervously.
Arrec looked on with interest. Of the several merchants Osmund had brought with him earlier, none had been in the Dorne capital during the attack itself. Perhaps he would finally get some concrete information.
"My good man, you need fear nothing from our side. Just be honest about what you saw."
Licking his lips nervously, the man replied, "Your Highness. I do not shake with fear, but with excitement to proclaim the glorious deeds of the Lightbringer. I intend to carry his name all the way to Braavos itself. He is Dovahkiin, He Whose Voice Shakes the World, as the Dornish call him. After what I've seen, I feel it is my duty to carry the word about him to all who will listen."
The king looked at his brother with concern. Could that one really possess such powers? To shake the world? And what's more, could all these stories be true the man recounts it with a reverence one would not expect from a merchant.
"You have nothing to fear, Darius. I have no ill intentions towards him; I just want to find out what happened there. The Ironborn have been giving me grief for years, as have the Stepstones pirates. I can even send a letter of thanks to this Dovahkiin," he assured him, trying to smile, but his face was too tense.
The man didn't seem to buy it either, but after a brief hesitation, he began to speak, "When my ship arrived in Planky Town, I went to Sunspear to offer my most precious goods to the palace, especially the silk from Yi-Ti. Even then, there were stories in the city about the increasing appearance of Ironborn ships. Evidently they were preparing something bigger."
"Two days after my arrival, the Dornish fleet stationed in Planky Town left port, leaving several ships anchored on the coast just off Sunspear. The city grew restless, and then the night of the attack came."
The merchant looked at him with obvious relief etched on his face. "I was lucky that the princess allowed me to stay at the palace in exchange for delivering her letter to the Sealord. I was on the balcony overlooking the sea when it started. Awake, as in my profession, trouble sleeping is the norm. That's when it started."
"I take it you mean this unnatural fog?" Arrec asked, leaning forward in his chair. "I heard it came on suddenly, blocking both sight and sound."
"Yes. It's true. It came in a split second, like a white wall. When the fighting in the city broke out, I knew the attack had happened.
I've seen many wonders and magic during my expeditions, so I can definitely confirm that the fog was not natural; what's more, it could even have divine origins. The Ironborn have their Drowned God after all."
"I stood on that balcony terrified, seeing no chance of escape, since in this fog I could barely see the passage from the balcony to the chamber. With every second the fighting was getting closer. I knew that the defenders were being pushed back; what's more, I'm now convinced that the fog didn't cause the pirates any trouble. And when I was filled with desperation, He appeared."
"First, his divine voice pierced the air like the loudest thunder. Then suddenly the fog cleared as if it had never been there, revealing the starry sky and the attackers. He spoke again, and an enormous tongue of fire, the likes of which even the largest dragon could not have produced, incinerated the pirate fleet. Then his voice resounded several times, and the slaughter of these sea scum began. No one survived, except the crews of a few ships that had managed to escape at the beginning of the battle."
Arrec, unable to sit still, stood up and turned his back to them, looking out the window at the stormy waters of Shipbreaker Bay. The more he listened, the more uneasy he felt. The Valyrians were powerful, but they had never travelled to Westeros on their dragons. But this new entity was not only unimaginably powerful, capable of destroying entire fleets and armies, but it was also here. And worse, in Dorne.
Out of the corner of his eye, he looked over his shoulder at the merchant, who had fallen silent at his earlier behaviour. "Go on. Have you seen him up close, and what of his relationship with Princess Nymeria?"
The merchant's face brightened immediately. "Of course, Your Highness, I have seen him. I would never have left Sunspear if I had not seen him before. After the battle was won, I went to the city immediately, and there I noticed that His light not only destroyed enemies but also healed wounds."
"You say he has healing powers?" He asked surprised, although he really shouldn't be, but it's hard to imagine someone who brings such destruction and is also capable of healing.
"Yes, he healed people who were on the verge of death. I saw with my own eyes how some even grew limbs. It was a true miracle. And just before the princess returned, he blessed children on the coast, kindling his light in them."
Arrec frowned. He had heard of Valyrian magic capable of terrible things, but to make someone's arm or leg grow back. It really had to be a miracle. He was starting to feel more and more fear that they were actually dealing with a new god who, unlike the Seven, walked the earth among the living.
"What about the princess?"
"He greeted her on the beach, warmly, and she was duly grateful for the salvation of her people. Afterwards he spent many days in the palace and even greeted me once, passing me in the corridor. I will never forget that event, and my grandchildren will tell their grandchildren about this honour."
The king sighed heavily, feeling the weight weighing down on him. If Dorne somehow connected with this living god and decided to expand north, he could forget about passing the kingdom to his descendants.
However, not all was lost. Maybe it was still possible to reach an understanding with this Dovahiin, and if not, maybe if he joined forces with the Gardeners, Arryns, and Lannisters under the banner of the Faith in the Seven, they would be able to destroy this freak. The High Septon would be furious at the news of him. Yes… he had to consider what was most profitable for him or ultimately guaranteed his survival.
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Reach, Oldtown
Garth XIV Gardener,
King of the Reach
Garth listened with a growing headache to the angry shouts of High Septon Triston. Standing nearby and leaning against the expensive tapestry that adorned one of the walls of the chamber, young Lord Jason Hightower, judging by his expression, felt the same way.
It was all because of that damned letter from the septon of Sunspear about a new heretical god who had repelled the Ironborn invasion and was now worshipped, his name invoked with more reverence than the Seven themselves.
Unfortunately for Garth, he was currently present in Oldtown at the tournament organised by Jason for the birth of his firstborn son. He would have preferred to calmly familiarise himself with such information in the privacy of his own solar.
The news itself was disturbing, but until he heard from his own trusted spies in Sunspear, he wasn't going to get his head around it. It was too improbable and fantastical.
"Your Holiness, I think you should take a deep breath and calmly think about this again," Hightower finally spoke up, irritated. "We know about the strange movements of the ironborn in the south, but what the septon describes is certainly greatly exaggerated. If someone with unnatural powers has indeed appeared in Dorne, it must be some sorcerer from the east."
"A sorcerer... a sorcerer?!" The High Septon practically screamed, his face so red Garth feared it would explode. "Rodrick writes that the people of Shadow City practically worship this impostor. The titles they call him by are pure heresy... Lightbringer, He Whose Voice Shakes the World, and others whose meanings we don't know!" continued the Shepherd of the Faithful.
"They are Dornishmen; they love to exaggerate everything. A few months will pass, and they will forget about both the Ironborn and their hero." The king replied, fed up with the other's hysteria. He wanted to have a drink, watch knights fight in melee and clash with lances, and not listen to the fat septon and his problems with heretics.
"Exactly, High Septon. Write to Nymeria, demanding an explanation and to deal with the situation. Threaten to excommunicate Dorne and make it an enemy of the Faith and the other kingdoms outside the North." Jason suggested, walking over to the table and pouring himself some wine, to which Garth immediately offered him his already empty goblet.
The High Septon fell silent, thoughtful, then nodded as if to his own thoughts, making a decision. "You're right, Jason, that's what I'll do. The reputation of the Holy Faith alone should do the trick. However, if that doesn't work, I'll declare a holy war against Dorne. We've tolerated their lax approach to faith for too long." He declared and left the chamber, saying as he left, "Don't underestimate him. The Seven whisper to me of a threat to the Faith. I dream of septs burnt and septons and septas murdered."
Garth sighed in relief and looked at Hightower. "What do you think of this whole situation? Is the fat man right?"
He shook his head, "I don't know. I think he's exaggerating, and that the man in Dorne is just an extremely powerful sorcerer, maybe even from Valyria or even Yi-Ti or Asshai. What's more, if the septon is right and we're dealing with someone they consider a living god, then even if he isn't, the things he has to do must be incredible."
"Like destroying an entire Ironborn fleet, or two, in fact," Garth interjected.
"That he destroyed an entire fleet," the lord agreed, taking a good sip of wine before adding, "Let's go down to the Great Hall; the feast will be starting soon, and you as king and I as host should be there."
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Stepstones, Grey Gallows
Neferion
He looked at the mostly wooden fort in front of him with disappointment. Honestly, when he thought about the pirate fortresses on the Stepstones, he had expected something more. To destroy the thing in front of him, it would probably be enough for him to blow in its direction.
With a sigh, he moved forward since he was already here, and clearing the remaining islands probably wouldn't be much of a challenge; he could have some fun.
He casually walked up to the three-metre wooden gate reinforced with iron fittings and struck it, shattering it into pieces. Inside he found stunned pirates, fewer than he expected, but most of them had finally died in the Sunspear.
"Gentlemen, you better surrender... I have Thu'um, and I won't hesitate to use it, and you better shut up, or words can be used against you." He shouted, then laughed; in the blink of an eye, he was next to the nearest pirate a few metres away.
Grabbing him by the face, he threw him like a missile into the main building of the fort, destroying the entire front wall. In horror, some of the pirates fled; the rest, no less frightened but more stupid, decided to attack him.
Neferion grabbed the first of them in both hands and unceremoniously, in front of the others, tore him in half, spraying blood everywhere.
Then, to stop the fleeing pirates, he cast a single Word of Power.
"RAHGOL" (Rage)
All the surviving pirates, maybe three or four dozen, rushed at him in blinding fury. At which he only grinned wider. He kicked one of them in the chest, killing four more who stood in his way, reducing all five to a tangle of mangled flesh and bone.
Next in line was a tall man with blue-dyed hair and a beard, whom he slapped hard enough to rip off his head, which killed another by crushing his jaw.
Then he grabbed the legs of the most massive of them all with one hand and began swinging it like a blunt weapon, killing him and ten more.
One of the remaining pirates tried to spear him, which he watched with curiosity, but it bounced off his armour. The man looked at him with wide eyes, his previous fury gone in a flash. Neferion smiled predatorily, then kicked him between the legs with all his might, sending him flying high into the air. The guy probably died on the spot anyway.
It didn't take him long to deal with the others. He searched the remains of the fort and the underground dungeons for prisoners or slaves but found none.
"Hmh... They must have gotten rid of everyone before the attack on Sunspear, or they still have some surviving ships."
Stepping outside the walls, he turned once more towards the fort, then shouted.
"YOL" (Fire)
The flames immediately engulfed the remains of the buildings, leaving only ashes dancing in the wind.
Neferion then looked towards a large rock formation to the west, and after a moment he called out, "You may reveal yourselves. I am well aware that you are there."
Another few long seconds passed, and then the air shimmered, revealing four figures draped in dark robes and masks... masks that he was very familiar with.
"Ha. Finally, this is getting interesting... So I guess I was right when I sensed that damn reptile."