Devrim
Know what you're doing yet?
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He most likely sees the kingdom building as something to district himself nobody would be happy living essos by leaving the 21 century
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The Accidental Liberator (ASOIAF,GOT SI)
- Thread starter Illusiveone
- Start date
Illusiveone
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There will be small changes in Westeros but it will only happen after the rebellion
OblivionFan007
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Yeah.
Rhyllor or however that is spelled just mindfucked him into canon compliance. lol
Oddboy
The Trash Cat
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Jason's unwillingness to speak with his best friend and most trusted confidante is throwing up some massive red flags for me, not gonna lie. It's an incredibly unwise thing to do, so I hope it's only temporary.
If he doesn't shape up... Oh boy, I can see things going badly.
If he doesn't shape up... Oh boy, I can see things going badly.
Illusiveone
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Jason till now believed he was untouchable and went on a power trip.
Then this happened for three months.
Jason didn't talk to Garth because he was ashamed of his behavior till now.They will have a long talk after the events in Lhazosh conclude
Oddboy
The Trash Cat
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Understandable. And it's probably a very good thing that Jason got a reality check now instead of later, before the power-tripping could really set in and become his normal behavior.
It's kinda funny, R'hllor could probably have done more damage to his new rival "god" by just... not doing anything at all, for a good while longer.
Instead he provided the kick to the ass Jason needed to pull his head out of it.
TheLibrarianOfWorlds
A procrastinating bastard of epic proportions
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The Tour
Illusiveone
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Garth and his retinue had been traveling for three weeks. They could have reached Hesh earlier, but Garth decided to stop by some important villages and towns to meet with the nomarchs there. Then, as they traveled beyond their borders to Hesh and its surrounding villages, he stopped by the important ones, meeting with the elders or the councils that ran each village. He also scouted for nomarchs among them and invited them to travel with him to Hesh.
As they got closer to Hesh, the verdant greenery he had been familiar with for the last two years near Haven gradually gave way to a more arid, rocky terrain. The lush fields and plains slowly thinned out, replaced by sparse vegetation and the occasional stubborn tree, clinging to life in the harsher climate. The air grew hotter, the sun beating down more intensely with each passing mile.
His retinue consisted of five of his most trusted aides. Once his students, they had been with him through many challenges and had proven their worth time and again. There were also Ten Immortals, the enhanced warriors who were a legend in their own right in Lhazar. Irina had made them out to be the great protectors of Lhazar, an extension of Jason himself. There were also thirty regular soldiers; though not as awe-inspiring as the Immortals, they were selected for being the best of the best.
The last of the group were scribes,diplomats and other officials, their numbers decreased whenever they passed through a large village so that the integration of these territories into Haven's domain would be as smooth as possible.
Instead of going straight to Hesh, Garth had decided to visit the army camp Cregan had set up here first. He could see a village in the distance; the camp was only a few leagues away from there.
"What is this village called again?" he asked Darian, riding closer to him.
"Amol, my lord," he answered.
"Make sure your brother won't fall off. We can rest at the village," he said, motioning to Darian's twin, Darius, who was drifting off to sleep on his horse.
He cracked a smile as Darian smacked his brother awake and looked ahead to see a gathering of villagers waiting for them to arrive. Jason was worshiped as a god, and as his Grand Vizier, many had begun to see him in a similar way. He had to uphold an image of a divine emissary when he was amongst them, something he had perfected all too well over the past two years.
But he could not deny the allure of the power he now held. Jason had once commented that Garth would come to enjoy his new power. He was right. Only seven years ago, he was just a Maester at the citadel, destined to live out the rest of his days assigned to a castle and its lord. But now, he held more power than his lord father. He wondered if his mother was still alive; he had been thinking about her lately as after Jason enhanced him, he could finally recall her face, something he had been unable to do for years.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of people as he realized they were now almost at Amol. The villagers lined the dusty path, their eyes wide as they watched them ride in. As he dismounted, he heard whispers of his title, 'Grand Vizier,' and a new one to his surprise, 'Emissary of the Liberator.' He was welcomed by the leader, a middle-aged man, who declared that there would be a celebration held in his honor. Tired, Garth accepted, deciding to go to Cregan's camp early in the morning.
"You may leave," Garth said, dismissing the leader of the village. He had invited him to his tent to gather information and to evaluate him for the role of nomarch, something he had done in all the villages. More importantly, he asked them all for information about Lhazosh, other than things he already knew; there was no new information.
He thought back to his conversation with Irina three months ago, when he had approached her to learn more of Lhazosh, a few days after Jason announced the tour.
"The city, as you know, was built from the remnants of a Ghiscari city, destroyed by the Valyrians long before our time. Its most striking feature is the black pyramid, a relic from that ancient era," she explained.
"You spoke of a family that now rules the city; they've managed to keep the Dothraki at bay through agreements?" Garth asked, leaning forward, intrigued by the history of the city.
"Yes," Irina nodded. "For decades, they've negotiated with the Dothraki, ensuring Lhazosh remains untouched by their raids. Kosrak had a similar pact, which was negotiated with the help of Lhazosh and held until Jhoggo's assault."
"And this family, what more can you tell me about them?"
"Their past is shrouded in mystery, but their roots are undeniably Ghiscari. They've maintained a low profile, yet their influence is quite large. Their dealings have kept Lhazosh relatively prosperous and safe for decades."
"And these rumors of a slaver ring, are you certain of their validity?"
Irina's expression was grave. "It is not yet confirmed, but Priestess Mara, whom I sent to Lhazosh, has raised her suspicions."
"Could Mara be mistaken?" Garth challenged.
"Mara is not a person who would raise an alarm without good reason," Irina replied confidently.
He then shifted the topic slightly. "What about the conversion efforts? How receptive has Lhazosh been to the faith?"
"The process has been slow," Irina admitted. "Lhazosh is resistant to change. However, Mara's last message indicated that the ruling family showed some interest."
Garth stood up and began pacing in the tent, trying to piece together what was going on in Lhazosh. He suspected the Ghiscari family might have something to do with the slaver ring, if it existed.
There was also the report from his aides that there was a significant exodus of followers of the old faith to Hesh, a detail that piqued Garth's interest and suspicion. The consensus among the people in the villages was that their continued presence might provoke the wrath of 'the Liberator', and they would not be granted boons if they let the non-believers stay; and this was also subtly being implied by some priestesses. He wondered how life must be like for those of the old faith in Hesh.
Garth left for Cregan's camp in the morning. He had asked all the village leaders traveling with him to ride ahead to Hesh. After riding for two hours, the camp came into view. As he entered the camp he could see a large tent in the center, he observed rows of uniformly arranged tents that housed the soldiers, laid out in a grid. The camp was interspersed with watchtowers that stood sentinel over the surrounding area. Soldiers patrolled diligently, their eyes scanning for any signs of danger, ensuring the camp's security.
"Where is the supreme commander?" Garth asked the soldier who had joined them at the entrance.
"At the training grounds, my lord," he answered.
Garth dismounted and walked to the training ground, where he spotted Cregan drilling a group of soldiers. He watched as the group, each with a heavy bag strapped to their shoulders, ran in formation across the field, spears in hand.
He approached, and Cregan turned to greet him, a slight smile breaking through his stern demeanor. "Training the new blood," Cregan gestured towards the now-identified recruits. "Are they any good?" Garth asked, standing near him.
"They're getting there," Cregan replied, his gaze returning to the field.
"Has our glorious leader come out of his castle yet?" Cregan asked.
"Yes, just before I left," Garth answered, a bit annoyed as he remembered that he had to leave without any answers.
Cregan led Garth into the large tent in the center of the camp. This military campaign was decided on by all four of them, proposed by him a year ago.
He wanted to bring all the lands the Skahazadhan flowed under their dominion. These lands were beyond Lhazars borders and at the outer edges of the Dothraki Sea they were fertile but sparsely populated due to years of Dothraki raiding.
Garth's plan was more ambitious: he wanted to push east into the patrimony of Yinhsar and the Poison Sea. These two phases would secure new lands for cultivation and settlement and also open up lucrative trade routes with the cities of the Kingdom of Hyrkoon and give them freer access to Yi-Ti. If successful, they could also establish a military presence in the region; it was important since they could have direct access to Vaes Dothrak, the only city of the savage Dothraki.
Sometimes, he wished the Dothraki would try to invade Lhazar again, then Jason to finally finish them off for good.Essos would be far better without those savages.
"That book Jason gifted has been a great help in some matters," Cregan said as he led him through the camp. "We have been using tactics similar to the Ghiscari to fight the small bands of Dothraki we come across now and then."
"Are the Dothraki still coming?" Garth asked, surprised.
"Like I said, small hordes, no more than fifty, but it's been a great help in bloodying the troops, especially the new ones."
Inside the tent, Cregan led Garth to a large map on the table, showing the lands around the Skahazadhan. Cregan explained the current state of the lands they were going to annex.
"The territory is largely uninhabited now, save for some scattered settlements. The few who remain are constantly under threat from Dothraki raids and slavers from Slaver's Bay," he said.
He leaned forward, his expression serious. "With your permission, we can begin moving our forces into these regions. The priestesses have been very successful in preparing the locals for our arrival, so I don't expect any resistance."
"Do it," Garth said, giving the nod of approval.
Their conversation then shifted to other matters, one of them being about Lhazosh. Garth had asked Cregan to gather as much information as he could about the city, and it seems he was somewhat successful.
"In Hesh, I looked into the alleged slaver operations in Lhazosh," Cregan began. "I couldn't find out much there, but I did manage to get some information from another source."
"Where?" Garth asked.
"We captured a band of slavers near Hesh. They were capturing Lhazareen and transporting them to Lhazosh. From there, they planned take them to Port Yhos and then ship them to New Ghis."
Garth was disturbed as he listened to Cregan's report. It seems the slaver ring does exist. The mention of Lhazareen being abducted and transported to Yhos, and possibly to New Ghis, meant the Ghiscari family that ruled Lhazosh might have a hand in the operation; they could be the ones running it.
"Did the slavers mention any names, anything about the family that rules the city?" Garth inquired.
"No, this is all I have," Cregan responded.
He was now sure the Ghiscari family ran the operation. It seemed they were covertly abducting Lhazareen and transporting them to Yhos and from there shipping them to the markets of New Ghis and Slaver's Bay.
Garth began to think of ways to oust the family. He could wait for Jason, and he could use brute force, but it seemed the city's inhabitants had a deep-seated loyalty towards this family, making a direct confrontation risky and potentially turning the populace against them. Garth considered a more covert approach, one that would expose the family's illicit activities and undermine their standing among the city's inhabitants.
"Right, I'm off to Hesh then," Garth announced as he got up to leave.
Cregan chuckled.
"What?" Garth asked, confused by his reaction.
"Nothing, nothing at all," he said, still chuckling. This unnerved Garth. What was he going to find in Hesh?
As they got closer to Hesh, the verdant greenery he had been familiar with for the last two years near Haven gradually gave way to a more arid, rocky terrain. The lush fields and plains slowly thinned out, replaced by sparse vegetation and the occasional stubborn tree, clinging to life in the harsher climate. The air grew hotter, the sun beating down more intensely with each passing mile.
His retinue consisted of five of his most trusted aides. Once his students, they had been with him through many challenges and had proven their worth time and again. There were also Ten Immortals, the enhanced warriors who were a legend in their own right in Lhazar. Irina had made them out to be the great protectors of Lhazar, an extension of Jason himself. There were also thirty regular soldiers; though not as awe-inspiring as the Immortals, they were selected for being the best of the best.
The last of the group were scribes,diplomats and other officials, their numbers decreased whenever they passed through a large village so that the integration of these territories into Haven's domain would be as smooth as possible.
Instead of going straight to Hesh, Garth had decided to visit the army camp Cregan had set up here first. He could see a village in the distance; the camp was only a few leagues away from there.
"What is this village called again?" he asked Darian, riding closer to him.
"Amol, my lord," he answered.
"Make sure your brother won't fall off. We can rest at the village," he said, motioning to Darian's twin, Darius, who was drifting off to sleep on his horse.
He cracked a smile as Darian smacked his brother awake and looked ahead to see a gathering of villagers waiting for them to arrive. Jason was worshiped as a god, and as his Grand Vizier, many had begun to see him in a similar way. He had to uphold an image of a divine emissary when he was amongst them, something he had perfected all too well over the past two years.
But he could not deny the allure of the power he now held. Jason had once commented that Garth would come to enjoy his new power. He was right. Only seven years ago, he was just a Maester at the citadel, destined to live out the rest of his days assigned to a castle and its lord. But now, he held more power than his lord father. He wondered if his mother was still alive; he had been thinking about her lately as after Jason enhanced him, he could finally recall her face, something he had been unable to do for years.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of people as he realized they were now almost at Amol. The villagers lined the dusty path, their eyes wide as they watched them ride in. As he dismounted, he heard whispers of his title, 'Grand Vizier,' and a new one to his surprise, 'Emissary of the Liberator.' He was welcomed by the leader, a middle-aged man, who declared that there would be a celebration held in his honor. Tired, Garth accepted, deciding to go to Cregan's camp early in the morning.
"You may leave," Garth said, dismissing the leader of the village. He had invited him to his tent to gather information and to evaluate him for the role of nomarch, something he had done in all the villages. More importantly, he asked them all for information about Lhazosh, other than things he already knew; there was no new information.
He thought back to his conversation with Irina three months ago, when he had approached her to learn more of Lhazosh, a few days after Jason announced the tour.
"The city, as you know, was built from the remnants of a Ghiscari city, destroyed by the Valyrians long before our time. Its most striking feature is the black pyramid, a relic from that ancient era," she explained.
"You spoke of a family that now rules the city; they've managed to keep the Dothraki at bay through agreements?" Garth asked, leaning forward, intrigued by the history of the city.
"Yes," Irina nodded. "For decades, they've negotiated with the Dothraki, ensuring Lhazosh remains untouched by their raids. Kosrak had a similar pact, which was negotiated with the help of Lhazosh and held until Jhoggo's assault."
"And this family, what more can you tell me about them?"
"Their past is shrouded in mystery, but their roots are undeniably Ghiscari. They've maintained a low profile, yet their influence is quite large. Their dealings have kept Lhazosh relatively prosperous and safe for decades."
"And these rumors of a slaver ring, are you certain of their validity?"
Irina's expression was grave. "It is not yet confirmed, but Priestess Mara, whom I sent to Lhazosh, has raised her suspicions."
"Could Mara be mistaken?" Garth challenged.
"Mara is not a person who would raise an alarm without good reason," Irina replied confidently.
He then shifted the topic slightly. "What about the conversion efforts? How receptive has Lhazosh been to the faith?"
"The process has been slow," Irina admitted. "Lhazosh is resistant to change. However, Mara's last message indicated that the ruling family showed some interest."
Garth stood up and began pacing in the tent, trying to piece together what was going on in Lhazosh. He suspected the Ghiscari family might have something to do with the slaver ring, if it existed.
There was also the report from his aides that there was a significant exodus of followers of the old faith to Hesh, a detail that piqued Garth's interest and suspicion. The consensus among the people in the villages was that their continued presence might provoke the wrath of 'the Liberator', and they would not be granted boons if they let the non-believers stay; and this was also subtly being implied by some priestesses. He wondered how life must be like for those of the old faith in Hesh.
Garth left for Cregan's camp in the morning. He had asked all the village leaders traveling with him to ride ahead to Hesh. After riding for two hours, the camp came into view. As he entered the camp he could see a large tent in the center, he observed rows of uniformly arranged tents that housed the soldiers, laid out in a grid. The camp was interspersed with watchtowers that stood sentinel over the surrounding area. Soldiers patrolled diligently, their eyes scanning for any signs of danger, ensuring the camp's security.
"Where is the supreme commander?" Garth asked the soldier who had joined them at the entrance.
"At the training grounds, my lord," he answered.
Garth dismounted and walked to the training ground, where he spotted Cregan drilling a group of soldiers. He watched as the group, each with a heavy bag strapped to their shoulders, ran in formation across the field, spears in hand.
He approached, and Cregan turned to greet him, a slight smile breaking through his stern demeanor. "Training the new blood," Cregan gestured towards the now-identified recruits. "Are they any good?" Garth asked, standing near him.
"They're getting there," Cregan replied, his gaze returning to the field.
"Has our glorious leader come out of his castle yet?" Cregan asked.
"Yes, just before I left," Garth answered, a bit annoyed as he remembered that he had to leave without any answers.
Cregan led Garth into the large tent in the center of the camp. This military campaign was decided on by all four of them, proposed by him a year ago.
He wanted to bring all the lands the Skahazadhan flowed under their dominion. These lands were beyond Lhazars borders and at the outer edges of the Dothraki Sea they were fertile but sparsely populated due to years of Dothraki raiding.
Garth's plan was more ambitious: he wanted to push east into the patrimony of Yinhsar and the Poison Sea. These two phases would secure new lands for cultivation and settlement and also open up lucrative trade routes with the cities of the Kingdom of Hyrkoon and give them freer access to Yi-Ti. If successful, they could also establish a military presence in the region; it was important since they could have direct access to Vaes Dothrak, the only city of the savage Dothraki.
Sometimes, he wished the Dothraki would try to invade Lhazar again, then Jason to finally finish them off for good.Essos would be far better without those savages.
"That book Jason gifted has been a great help in some matters," Cregan said as he led him through the camp. "We have been using tactics similar to the Ghiscari to fight the small bands of Dothraki we come across now and then."
"Are the Dothraki still coming?" Garth asked, surprised.
"Like I said, small hordes, no more than fifty, but it's been a great help in bloodying the troops, especially the new ones."
Inside the tent, Cregan led Garth to a large map on the table, showing the lands around the Skahazadhan. Cregan explained the current state of the lands they were going to annex.
"The territory is largely uninhabited now, save for some scattered settlements. The few who remain are constantly under threat from Dothraki raids and slavers from Slaver's Bay," he said.
He leaned forward, his expression serious. "With your permission, we can begin moving our forces into these regions. The priestesses have been very successful in preparing the locals for our arrival, so I don't expect any resistance."
"Do it," Garth said, giving the nod of approval.
Their conversation then shifted to other matters, one of them being about Lhazosh. Garth had asked Cregan to gather as much information as he could about the city, and it seems he was somewhat successful.
"In Hesh, I looked into the alleged slaver operations in Lhazosh," Cregan began. "I couldn't find out much there, but I did manage to get some information from another source."
"Where?" Garth asked.
"We captured a band of slavers near Hesh. They were capturing Lhazareen and transporting them to Lhazosh. From there, they planned take them to Port Yhos and then ship them to New Ghis."
Garth was disturbed as he listened to Cregan's report. It seems the slaver ring does exist. The mention of Lhazareen being abducted and transported to Yhos, and possibly to New Ghis, meant the Ghiscari family that ruled Lhazosh might have a hand in the operation; they could be the ones running it.
"Did the slavers mention any names, anything about the family that rules the city?" Garth inquired.
"No, this is all I have," Cregan responded.
He was now sure the Ghiscari family ran the operation. It seemed they were covertly abducting Lhazareen and transporting them to Yhos and from there shipping them to the markets of New Ghis and Slaver's Bay.
Garth began to think of ways to oust the family. He could wait for Jason, and he could use brute force, but it seemed the city's inhabitants had a deep-seated loyalty towards this family, making a direct confrontation risky and potentially turning the populace against them. Garth considered a more covert approach, one that would expose the family's illicit activities and undermine their standing among the city's inhabitants.
"Right, I'm off to Hesh then," Garth announced as he got up to leave.
Cregan chuckled.
"What?" Garth asked, confused by his reaction.
"Nothing, nothing at all," he said, still chuckling. This unnerved Garth. What was he going to find in Hesh?
OblivionFan007
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What indeed.
It's going to be a bloodbath. Economically and physically.
It's going to be a bloodbath. Economically and physically.
RoyalTwinFangs
For The Chancellor!
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Equip like the more real Immortals instead of the fantasy ones?
Arimai
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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I hope they have brigandine armor and good steel helmets at the very least. The fantasy pics had some glaring weaknesses.
Arimai
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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He'd need to have that skill to grant it to others.
Illusiveone
POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!
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Sadly Jason will not meet Arthur but I am writing some bonus chapter in which Jason saves Lyanna from Rhaegar
Arimai
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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I hope it's book Arthur Dayne that dual arming sword bullshit was aggravating to watch. Arthur Dayne is a master longswordsman favoring his magical starmetal ancestral sword.
Hesh
Illusiveone
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Zahir walked through the cramped streets of the most isolated part of Hesh. He and many others who followed the Great Shepherd had been living here for six months; the others had begun calling it the Shepherd's Quarter. The buildings were old and showed signs of neglect; some had temporary patchwork repairs. There was little space between houses.
Zahir was returning from the small market the quarter had; the goods there were second-rate, but that was the best they could get. They had a tight-knit community here, where people relied heavily on each other for support. The reason they were here was due to their faith; they were the last of the decreasing number of people in the city who still believed in the Great Shepherd. With most of the inhabitants turning to the new god and his ways, they were cast aside and mistreated. The only way back into their good graces was to accept the new god and cast aside the Great Shepherd.
It was not always this way. When they first arrived, they found the city in the same state as their villages; the new faith was spreading fast, but they faced no discrimination. Zahir found work in the forges, and others too started their new lives in the city. Things were going well, but then the crisis happened: a lack of water in the city, caused by mismanagement from the city officials. Fearing their loss of power and the anger from the people, they quickly looked for people to blame, and so, a few months after his arrival, Zahir's new life began to sour.
When he worked at the forge, he heard whispers and rumors among the city folk. They spoke of how the crisis was caused by the Liberator's anger at them, due to the followers of the Great Shepherd that called the city home. Zahir, like many others who clung to their old faith, found themselves increasingly ostracized. Many began to convert to avoid ruining their lives here.
He lost his job at the forge, and he and many others found themselves in a neglected part of the city.The residents of the city began viewing them with disdain as the crisis worsened, and there were many incidents of violence as well.
Seeking relief, Zahir and some of his compatriots turned to the priestesses of the new god, hoping for compassion or assistance. However, the help offered came with a heavy price: renounce the Great Shepherd and embrace the new deity. Faced with this ultimatum, many of Zahir's companions yielded, driven by desperation to abandon their ancestral faith for the promise of a better life.
But Zahir stood firm. Despite the mounting pressures and the growing allure of conversion as a means to escape their plight, he saw these trials as a testament to his faith's strength. To him, the hardship was a divine test, a measure of his devotion and resilience. In the face of this great adversity, Zahir's faith in the Great Shepherd remained unshaken.
He arrived at his small home, where in the corner there was a makeshift forge. He had become a leader of sorts in the quarter. There were even talks of moving to Lhazosh, but many feared they would be treated the same there, and some even believed they would be treated worse. His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a small group, their faces etched with concern. The eldest among them, a wiry man named Eben, spoke up, his voice carrying a tremble of urgency.
"Zahir, have you heard the news? They say the Grand Vizier is coming to Hesh soon," Eben said.
Zahir stopped, his heart sinking. He had heard of this Grand Vizier, the right hand of the new god, his most trusted, if the priestesses were to be believed. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"It's not just rumors," a woman named Mira interjected. "My cousin works at the city gates. She told me they're preparing for his arrival. There's talk of a grand welcome for the Grand Vizier."
Zahir's hands clenched involuntarily. Eben shook his head, his eyes reflecting the fear that gripped them all. "I fear our days here might be numbered, Zahir. With Hesh formally joining their realm, who knows what they'll demand of us?"
Mira added, her voice barely above a whisper, "They might drive us out of the city or worse…"
"We must remain calm," Zahir said, trying to infuse his voice with confidence he barely felt.
"This is indeed concerning. Eben tell everyone to gather in the market in the evening. We should all take part in this discussion." Zahir said to the group. He walked out of his home; he needed to clear his head. He hid his talisman around his neck and walked outside the quarter. The city seemed to be in high spirits again; they had forgotten the crisis they faced.
He saw a priestess preaching to a large crowd. "...blessed be his name, offers mercy to all who seek his light," the priestess proclaimed. "...his compassion knows no bounds…"
As he stood there, hearing the priestess's sermon, a plan began to form in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, there was a way to use this visit to their advantage, to negotiate a better future for his people. If the Liberator was so compassionate, perhaps he would hear their pleas.
He returned as the sun was setting. The entirety of the Shepherd's Quarter had assembled in the small marketplace.
"Friends," Zahir began, addressing the anxious crowd, "I know we are all worried about what the Grand Vizier's arrival might mean for us. But I believe this is our chance to make our voices heard."
"We can't continue living in the shadows, ignored and forgotten," Zahir continued. "I heard a sermon today, speaking of the Liberator's mercy and forgiveness. It's time we sought that mercy for ourselves."
"Are you asking us to convert, Zahir? You, of all people…" someone said from the back.
"No," he said firmly. "I would like to request the Grand Vizier to allow us to continue practicing our faith in peace, to ask him for protection."
Murmurs of disbelief and fear rippled through the crowd. An elderly woman spoke up, her voice tinged with skepticism. "And why would the Grand Vizier listen to us, Zahir?"
"Because we are part of this city, part of his realm. If this new god is as merciful as they claim, then surely his right hand will hear our plea."
Many were not convinced, but they knew it was their only chance to return to a normal life. Zahir and four other community leaders decided they would go and seek an audience with the Grand Vizier.
Garth stood by the window of his spacious room in Hesh, gazing out at the bustling streets below. The residence, once owned by a wealthy merchant, had been provided to him during his stay.
His arrival in Hesh was marked by an extraordinary display of pageantry and celebration. The streets were lined with throngs of people, their faces alight with curiosity and awe, eager to see the Grand Vizier as he rode through the city.
As the day turned to evening, Garth found himself amidst the city's elites at a lavish gathering organized in his honor. The event proved to be a tedious affair for him. He navigated through a sea of merchants, local dignitaries, and sycophants, all vying for his attention and favor. The conversations, heavy with flattery, left him yearning to go back home to Haven.
Amid the dullness of the gathering, Garth's attention was piqued by discussions of Hesh's water crisis. He remembered the conversation he had with some city officials.
"Grand Vizier, we are so relieved you're here," one official said.
"We are in crisis, my lord. The city's water collection system has been damaged; we are at our wits' end," he added.
Garth, his curiosity piqued, inquired, "What exactly led to this failure? Was it not maintained properly?"
Another official chimed in, avoiding direct eye contact. "Well, you see, the system is quite old, and we've had some... administrative oversights."
A third official quickly added, "We've done everything in our power, but it's a complicated issue. We're hopeful that with your presence, and perhaps the Great One's blessing, we can find a resolution."
The officials gave a thousand excuses, but to Garth, it was clear that their mismanagement had ruined the city, and now he had to step in and fix it. It wouldn't be solved by just infrastructural fixes; he needed to overhaul the entire administrative structure of the city.
His observations in Hesh confirmed his suspicions. Persecution was happening here; it was clear as day. There was a part of the city disdainfully referred to as the Shepherd Quarter. The water crisis and the officials were linked with this growing persecution, as Zara, the head of the temple here, had admitted that she was unable to maintain control of the growing religious fervor .
The officials blamed the crisis on the existence of the followers of the Great Shepherd, calling it a divine punishment. She even shamefully admitted to taking advantage of it to get more converts.
Garth's thoughts darkened. There was a lot of work to be done here, and who knows what was going on in Lhazosh.
The officials must be brought to justice, but he did not believe that would heal the divide between the two religions. Maybe in a few years, with the right propaganda, but for now, it seemed impossible.
He heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" he called out.
"It's Darius, My Lord," came the answer from the other side.
"Come in," he responded.
Darius entered the room with a sense of urgency.
"My lord, we've made contact with some followers of the Great Shepherd in the city. They wish to have an audience with you," Darius reported, his voice low.
Garth's interest was piqued. "Bring them here. I want to speak with them personally," he instructed, his mind already considering the implications of their request for a meeting, no doubt to tell him of their plight.
Soon, a small group of people, led by Darius, entered the room. Garth noted their humble attire and the weariness etched on their faces; they looked like they hadn't had a good meal in weeks. One of them stepped forward.
"I am Zahir, and these are my companions, fellow followers of the Great Shepherd," he introduced.
Garth nodded.
"I know why you have come, and I have a solution for you," he began, cracking a small smile, seeing their shocked faces.
"Can you help us, then? We wish to live as equals to the followers of your god," Zahir said, hope lacing his voice.
"First, tell me, is there any truth in the officials blaming the water crisis on your people? Was this where it all began?"
"Yes, we were blamed for the crisis because of our supposed defiance of the Liberator," Zahir said, his anger rising.
"I will be bringing these officials to justice tomorrow, and I will have them publicly confess," Garth said, to the relief of the group.
"But I doubt there will be an immediate change," Garth added.
"But the people will see the truth," Zahir protested.
"Let me finish. I have a proposition for you," Garth continued.
"First, you stay and take a chance that things will change. I will try my best to make your lives easier, but it may take a lot of time for the people to accept."
"Second, you move to Kosrak. There are already a large population of the old faith there, living peacefully."
"Third, in a few months, we will conquer and annex the lands in the north. They are fertile and sparsely populated. I am planning to send settlers there, and you and your people can go there when it's safe to do so."
The man seemed to be contemplating the three options given to him. After a while, he spoke.
"You wish for us to leave the land of Lhazar?" Zahir asked.
"Those lands were part of Lhazar a long time ago. This is a chance to reclaim it," Garth said, further sweetening the deal.
"And we will be protected, offered equal status?" he asked, seeming desperate.
"Yes, I promise you," Garth assured.
A smile appeared on the man's face. "I knew this was the right choice. Thank you, Grand Vizier. We will inform you of our decision after talking with the others."
"Take all the time you need," Garth said before they were escorted out of the room. "Darius, have the Immortals gotten a confession yet?"
"Yes, my lord," he answered.
"Good. Tell Priestess Zara to organize a public trial. The entire city is welcome to attend." with the final command Darius left.
Garth was tired; he laid on the soft bed, his mind racing with the tasks ahead. Cregan was right, Hesh was a tangled web of corruption, prejudice and strife. The public trial of the officials would be a step in the right direction, but it was just the beginning of what he needed to address. It seems he will be here for longer than he expected.
Day 2 of Jason's Seclusion.
Jason had been having a tough time. He had remained secluded in his room ever since he had that dream two days ago, brooding over what it meant. The immortals stood guard outside; he had asked them not to disturb him, except for delivering meals.
He paced around the room restlessly, haunted by the vivid images and whispers from his dream. It had felt so real; he could still feel his flesh burning, even the smell, in vivid detail. For the first time since that encounter with the bandit in the desert—his first kill—he felt vulnerable. The notion that someone, or something, could infiltrate his mind and challenge him was deeply disturbing. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched or targeted by an unseen adversary.
"Think, Jason, think," he muttered to the empty room. "It's the fire god of Melisandre; it has to be him," he said as he wobbled around the room. He had started hearing voices in the room, something he attributed to not sleeping for the last two days. His body, as if moving automatically, moved to the bed. He could not take it anymore; he had to sleep. He closed his eyes, hoping the dreams wouldn't happen again.
He opened his eyes to see he was standing in a serene countryside. 'Not again, not again,' he thought as he looked around in panic. His gaze shifted toward the horizon to see a city surrounded by fourteen volcanoes.
The architecture of the city was unlike anything he had seen before. There were buildings that looked like skyscrapers back home, but what truly amazed him was the dragons that soared gracefully above the city, their scales glinting in the sunlight.
'This isn't that bad,' he thought as he walked towards the city, wanting to see it firsthand. As he walked closer, it started happening again. Whispers began to fill the air, indistinct at first, then growing clearer, as if converging on him from the city. His eyes darted around, searching for the source, but there was nothing—just the wind carrying what now was a chorus of menacing laughter.
"No, not again," Jason whispered, his voice laced with fear and frustration. "What do you want from me?" he shouted.
He saw birds flying away from the city, dragons began roaring loudly, and for a moment, the voices stopped. He could only hear the sounds of birds and dragons.
BOOM.
He clutched his ears, staggering as the world around him shook violently. He looked toward the city again, and to his horror, he saw that the volcanoes were erupting one by one. His ears were ringing, and he felt intense pain as blood poured out of them. He saw the volcanoes spewing ash and lava, realizing the danger he was in, he ran in the opposite direction. He looked back to see the infernal wave of ash and smoke racing towards him. Dragons fell from the sky, screeching in agony; one fell near him, causing him to stumble to the ground.
He could not hear it clearly but the ominous laughter had returned and echoed around him, growing louder and more derisive, as if mocking his plight. He could see the ash cloud getting closer. He tried to get up again, but his legs would not move. The gray cloud flowed closer, Jason's breath became ragged, his heart pounding in his chest.
"No, please!" he pleaded.
He screamed as the heat became unbearable. He gasped as the hot air seared his throat and lungs.
"Wake up Wake up," he said as the ash cloud engulfed him. He could feel the sulfur burning through his flesh and bone.
"Aaaargh!" he screamed, only silenced when his throat melted away. Then, just as suddenly, the torment ceased he awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. He laid there, trembling, with echoes of his screams still ringing in his ears.
Zahir was returning from the small market the quarter had; the goods there were second-rate, but that was the best they could get. They had a tight-knit community here, where people relied heavily on each other for support. The reason they were here was due to their faith; they were the last of the decreasing number of people in the city who still believed in the Great Shepherd. With most of the inhabitants turning to the new god and his ways, they were cast aside and mistreated. The only way back into their good graces was to accept the new god and cast aside the Great Shepherd.
It was not always this way. When they first arrived, they found the city in the same state as their villages; the new faith was spreading fast, but they faced no discrimination. Zahir found work in the forges, and others too started their new lives in the city. Things were going well, but then the crisis happened: a lack of water in the city, caused by mismanagement from the city officials. Fearing their loss of power and the anger from the people, they quickly looked for people to blame, and so, a few months after his arrival, Zahir's new life began to sour.
When he worked at the forge, he heard whispers and rumors among the city folk. They spoke of how the crisis was caused by the Liberator's anger at them, due to the followers of the Great Shepherd that called the city home. Zahir, like many others who clung to their old faith, found themselves increasingly ostracized. Many began to convert to avoid ruining their lives here.
He lost his job at the forge, and he and many others found themselves in a neglected part of the city.The residents of the city began viewing them with disdain as the crisis worsened, and there were many incidents of violence as well.
Seeking relief, Zahir and some of his compatriots turned to the priestesses of the new god, hoping for compassion or assistance. However, the help offered came with a heavy price: renounce the Great Shepherd and embrace the new deity. Faced with this ultimatum, many of Zahir's companions yielded, driven by desperation to abandon their ancestral faith for the promise of a better life.
But Zahir stood firm. Despite the mounting pressures and the growing allure of conversion as a means to escape their plight, he saw these trials as a testament to his faith's strength. To him, the hardship was a divine test, a measure of his devotion and resilience. In the face of this great adversity, Zahir's faith in the Great Shepherd remained unshaken.
He arrived at his small home, where in the corner there was a makeshift forge. He had become a leader of sorts in the quarter. There were even talks of moving to Lhazosh, but many feared they would be treated the same there, and some even believed they would be treated worse. His thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a small group, their faces etched with concern. The eldest among them, a wiry man named Eben, spoke up, his voice carrying a tremble of urgency.
"Zahir, have you heard the news? They say the Grand Vizier is coming to Hesh soon," Eben said.
Zahir stopped, his heart sinking. He had heard of this Grand Vizier, the right hand of the new god, his most trusted, if the priestesses were to be believed. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"It's not just rumors," a woman named Mira interjected. "My cousin works at the city gates. She told me they're preparing for his arrival. There's talk of a grand welcome for the Grand Vizier."
Zahir's hands clenched involuntarily. Eben shook his head, his eyes reflecting the fear that gripped them all. "I fear our days here might be numbered, Zahir. With Hesh formally joining their realm, who knows what they'll demand of us?"
Mira added, her voice barely above a whisper, "They might drive us out of the city or worse…"
"We must remain calm," Zahir said, trying to infuse his voice with confidence he barely felt.
"This is indeed concerning. Eben tell everyone to gather in the market in the evening. We should all take part in this discussion." Zahir said to the group. He walked out of his home; he needed to clear his head. He hid his talisman around his neck and walked outside the quarter. The city seemed to be in high spirits again; they had forgotten the crisis they faced.
He saw a priestess preaching to a large crowd. "...blessed be his name, offers mercy to all who seek his light," the priestess proclaimed. "...his compassion knows no bounds…"
As he stood there, hearing the priestess's sermon, a plan began to form in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, there was a way to use this visit to their advantage, to negotiate a better future for his people. If the Liberator was so compassionate, perhaps he would hear their pleas.
He returned as the sun was setting. The entirety of the Shepherd's Quarter had assembled in the small marketplace.
"Friends," Zahir began, addressing the anxious crowd, "I know we are all worried about what the Grand Vizier's arrival might mean for us. But I believe this is our chance to make our voices heard."
"We can't continue living in the shadows, ignored and forgotten," Zahir continued. "I heard a sermon today, speaking of the Liberator's mercy and forgiveness. It's time we sought that mercy for ourselves."
"Are you asking us to convert, Zahir? You, of all people…" someone said from the back.
"No," he said firmly. "I would like to request the Grand Vizier to allow us to continue practicing our faith in peace, to ask him for protection."
Murmurs of disbelief and fear rippled through the crowd. An elderly woman spoke up, her voice tinged with skepticism. "And why would the Grand Vizier listen to us, Zahir?"
"Because we are part of this city, part of his realm. If this new god is as merciful as they claim, then surely his right hand will hear our plea."
Many were not convinced, but they knew it was their only chance to return to a normal life. Zahir and four other community leaders decided they would go and seek an audience with the Grand Vizier.
Garth stood by the window of his spacious room in Hesh, gazing out at the bustling streets below. The residence, once owned by a wealthy merchant, had been provided to him during his stay.
His arrival in Hesh was marked by an extraordinary display of pageantry and celebration. The streets were lined with throngs of people, their faces alight with curiosity and awe, eager to see the Grand Vizier as he rode through the city.
As the day turned to evening, Garth found himself amidst the city's elites at a lavish gathering organized in his honor. The event proved to be a tedious affair for him. He navigated through a sea of merchants, local dignitaries, and sycophants, all vying for his attention and favor. The conversations, heavy with flattery, left him yearning to go back home to Haven.
Amid the dullness of the gathering, Garth's attention was piqued by discussions of Hesh's water crisis. He remembered the conversation he had with some city officials.
"Grand Vizier, we are so relieved you're here," one official said.
"We are in crisis, my lord. The city's water collection system has been damaged; we are at our wits' end," he added.
Garth, his curiosity piqued, inquired, "What exactly led to this failure? Was it not maintained properly?"
Another official chimed in, avoiding direct eye contact. "Well, you see, the system is quite old, and we've had some... administrative oversights."
A third official quickly added, "We've done everything in our power, but it's a complicated issue. We're hopeful that with your presence, and perhaps the Great One's blessing, we can find a resolution."
The officials gave a thousand excuses, but to Garth, it was clear that their mismanagement had ruined the city, and now he had to step in and fix it. It wouldn't be solved by just infrastructural fixes; he needed to overhaul the entire administrative structure of the city.
His observations in Hesh confirmed his suspicions. Persecution was happening here; it was clear as day. There was a part of the city disdainfully referred to as the Shepherd Quarter. The water crisis and the officials were linked with this growing persecution, as Zara, the head of the temple here, had admitted that she was unable to maintain control of the growing religious fervor .
The officials blamed the crisis on the existence of the followers of the Great Shepherd, calling it a divine punishment. She even shamefully admitted to taking advantage of it to get more converts.
Garth's thoughts darkened. There was a lot of work to be done here, and who knows what was going on in Lhazosh.
The officials must be brought to justice, but he did not believe that would heal the divide between the two religions. Maybe in a few years, with the right propaganda, but for now, it seemed impossible.
He heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" he called out.
"It's Darius, My Lord," came the answer from the other side.
"Come in," he responded.
Darius entered the room with a sense of urgency.
"My lord, we've made contact with some followers of the Great Shepherd in the city. They wish to have an audience with you," Darius reported, his voice low.
Garth's interest was piqued. "Bring them here. I want to speak with them personally," he instructed, his mind already considering the implications of their request for a meeting, no doubt to tell him of their plight.
Soon, a small group of people, led by Darius, entered the room. Garth noted their humble attire and the weariness etched on their faces; they looked like they hadn't had a good meal in weeks. One of them stepped forward.
"I am Zahir, and these are my companions, fellow followers of the Great Shepherd," he introduced.
Garth nodded.
"I know why you have come, and I have a solution for you," he began, cracking a small smile, seeing their shocked faces.
"Can you help us, then? We wish to live as equals to the followers of your god," Zahir said, hope lacing his voice.
"First, tell me, is there any truth in the officials blaming the water crisis on your people? Was this where it all began?"
"Yes, we were blamed for the crisis because of our supposed defiance of the Liberator," Zahir said, his anger rising.
"I will be bringing these officials to justice tomorrow, and I will have them publicly confess," Garth said, to the relief of the group.
"But I doubt there will be an immediate change," Garth added.
"But the people will see the truth," Zahir protested.
"Let me finish. I have a proposition for you," Garth continued.
"First, you stay and take a chance that things will change. I will try my best to make your lives easier, but it may take a lot of time for the people to accept."
"Second, you move to Kosrak. There are already a large population of the old faith there, living peacefully."
"Third, in a few months, we will conquer and annex the lands in the north. They are fertile and sparsely populated. I am planning to send settlers there, and you and your people can go there when it's safe to do so."
The man seemed to be contemplating the three options given to him. After a while, he spoke.
"You wish for us to leave the land of Lhazar?" Zahir asked.
"Those lands were part of Lhazar a long time ago. This is a chance to reclaim it," Garth said, further sweetening the deal.
"And we will be protected, offered equal status?" he asked, seeming desperate.
"Yes, I promise you," Garth assured.
A smile appeared on the man's face. "I knew this was the right choice. Thank you, Grand Vizier. We will inform you of our decision after talking with the others."
"Take all the time you need," Garth said before they were escorted out of the room. "Darius, have the Immortals gotten a confession yet?"
"Yes, my lord," he answered.
"Good. Tell Priestess Zara to organize a public trial. The entire city is welcome to attend." with the final command Darius left.
Garth was tired; he laid on the soft bed, his mind racing with the tasks ahead. Cregan was right, Hesh was a tangled web of corruption, prejudice and strife. The public trial of the officials would be a step in the right direction, but it was just the beginning of what he needed to address. It seems he will be here for longer than he expected.
Day 2 of Jason's Seclusion.
Jason had been having a tough time. He had remained secluded in his room ever since he had that dream two days ago, brooding over what it meant. The immortals stood guard outside; he had asked them not to disturb him, except for delivering meals.
He paced around the room restlessly, haunted by the vivid images and whispers from his dream. It had felt so real; he could still feel his flesh burning, even the smell, in vivid detail. For the first time since that encounter with the bandit in the desert—his first kill—he felt vulnerable. The notion that someone, or something, could infiltrate his mind and challenge him was deeply disturbing. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched or targeted by an unseen adversary.
"Think, Jason, think," he muttered to the empty room. "It's the fire god of Melisandre; it has to be him," he said as he wobbled around the room. He had started hearing voices in the room, something he attributed to not sleeping for the last two days. His body, as if moving automatically, moved to the bed. He could not take it anymore; he had to sleep. He closed his eyes, hoping the dreams wouldn't happen again.
He opened his eyes to see he was standing in a serene countryside. 'Not again, not again,' he thought as he looked around in panic. His gaze shifted toward the horizon to see a city surrounded by fourteen volcanoes.
The architecture of the city was unlike anything he had seen before. There were buildings that looked like skyscrapers back home, but what truly amazed him was the dragons that soared gracefully above the city, their scales glinting in the sunlight.
'This isn't that bad,' he thought as he walked towards the city, wanting to see it firsthand. As he walked closer, it started happening again. Whispers began to fill the air, indistinct at first, then growing clearer, as if converging on him from the city. His eyes darted around, searching for the source, but there was nothing—just the wind carrying what now was a chorus of menacing laughter.
"No, not again," Jason whispered, his voice laced with fear and frustration. "What do you want from me?" he shouted.
He saw birds flying away from the city, dragons began roaring loudly, and for a moment, the voices stopped. He could only hear the sounds of birds and dragons.
BOOM.
He clutched his ears, staggering as the world around him shook violently. He looked toward the city again, and to his horror, he saw that the volcanoes were erupting one by one. His ears were ringing, and he felt intense pain as blood poured out of them. He saw the volcanoes spewing ash and lava, realizing the danger he was in, he ran in the opposite direction. He looked back to see the infernal wave of ash and smoke racing towards him. Dragons fell from the sky, screeching in agony; one fell near him, causing him to stumble to the ground.
He could not hear it clearly but the ominous laughter had returned and echoed around him, growing louder and more derisive, as if mocking his plight. He could see the ash cloud getting closer. He tried to get up again, but his legs would not move. The gray cloud flowed closer, Jason's breath became ragged, his heart pounding in his chest.
"No, please!" he pleaded.
He screamed as the heat became unbearable. He gasped as the hot air seared his throat and lungs.
"Wake up Wake up," he said as the ash cloud engulfed him. He could feel the sulfur burning through his flesh and bone.
"Aaaargh!" he screamed, only silenced when his throat melted away. Then, just as suddenly, the torment ceased he awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. He laid there, trembling, with echoes of his screams still ringing in his ears.
Illusiveone
POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2020
- Messages
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R'hllor messing with him
Illusiveone
POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2020
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Everyone is going to get in on the fun. Now think how Jason will be feeling after the whole experience
tamagat
I Find Your Lack of Cake Disturbing.
- Joined
- Oct 1, 2017
- Messages
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spiteful and angry and would definitely want revenge!
Illusiveone
POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2020
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Jupiteresse
Pipiru piru piru pipirupi!
- Joined
- May 10, 2023
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- 626
Whats that? Im not well versed in the ancient compacts
Mage King
Not too sore, are you?
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2021
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Proclaiming yourself a god in lands and world you don't know, especially when you know you are not.
KharnTheBrotrayer
Making the rounds.
- Joined
- Nov 9, 2023
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I feel like cranky fire man will regret these attacks when super jedi and his freemen come and Jihad his religion off the face of the earth.