The Accidental Liberator (ASOIAF,GOT SI)

[Oddboy]

R'hllor: " look what we got here. A new upstart that believes he could claim the divine. How foolish."

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I'm not even entirely convinced R'hllor is a god. There's a bit too much "throw live people into a fire" for me not to suspect he's some sort of demonic entity.

Sure, he could just be an evil god or spirit, but come on. Fire. More fire. Human sacrifice. Human sacrifice by burning people alive. And if Mellisandre is anything to go by, he's either the source of her shadow monster magic or he has no problem with one of his priestesses practicing that kind of magic.

You can't tell me that doesn't sound at least a little like an infernal being.

Either way, Jason should be properly motivated to bend his powers toward keeping R'hllor out of his head. Or maybe finding a way to remove his need for sleep.

It'd be a real special trick to invade the dreams of a man that doesn't sleep anymore.

 

[Jack-21]

I'm not even entirely convinced R'hllor is a god. There's a bit too much "throw live people into a fire" for me not to suspect he's some sort of demonic entity.

Sure, he could just be an evil god or spirit, but come on. Fire. More fire. Human sacrifice. Human sacrifice by burning people alive. And if Mellisandre is anything to go by, he's either the source of her shadow monster magic or he has no problem with one of his priestesses practicing that kind of magic.

You can't tell me that doesn't sound at least a little like an infernal being.

Either way, Jason should be properly motivated to bend his powers toward keeping R'hllor out of his head. Or maybe finding a way to remove his need for sleep.

It'd be a real special trick to invade the dreams of a man that doesn't sleep anymore.

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Could just be a demonic god, the term god is more of a catch all terms for super powerful entities in fiction.

 

[FarJackal]

Could just be a demonic god, the term god is more of a catch all terms for super powerful entities in fiction.

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Time to pull a kratos.

 

[paloswag]

This was a fun read. Looking forward to seeing how it develops.

Not sure if it was mentioned in the thread or not, but there are some cultural details about the Dothraki that I think could be integrated into the story.

When the Dothraki are defeated in battle, they have to cut off the braid in their hair. I would have thought that the Khal who swore vengeance against Jason would have done so, since he was clearly in battle and retreated.

Also, it's taboo for Dothraki to fall off their horse. I would have expected more of a reaction from them when Jason uses the Force to pull them off. Given that it happened because it's magic, it might be a loophole, but I would have thought there would be some kind of acknowledgment.

 

[Illusiveone]

Mardez zo Rakzan could hardly contain his amazement as he approached the entrance of the Black Pyramid. It was a structure of legend, destroyed by the Valyrians thousands of years ago, and to see it almost restored was a sight to behold. The Pyramid was now the seat of House Kaazn, a family that was exiled from New Ghis decades ago.They had made their home in Lhazosh which was built on the ruins of an ancient Ghiscari city.

Mardez had met the young scion of House Kaazn, Odnil, when he visited New Ghis a year ago; they had become great friends, and he had invited him to Lhazosh. As he passed by the Lhazareen lining the streets, he observed their pitiful state. It confirmed his thoughts on how Hordik Kaazn, Odnil's grandfather, was able to take over the city.Their superior Ghiscari blood had proven true.

His smile widened as he spotted his friend Odnil waiting at the entrance of the Black Pyramid. His journey had been long and arduous, but it seemed worth it at this moment. His eyes drifted back to the pyramid, standing tall against the sky. While not yet at its former glory, the structure was impressively close to it. The black stone of the pyramid absorbed the sunlight, giving it an imposing presence. The once-crumbling tiers were now almost seamlessly rebuilt, echoing the grandeur of a bygone era. At the top of the pyramid, he could see work being done; they seemed to be building a capstone.

As Mardez arrived at the entrance, Odnil greeted him warmly. "Welcome, my friend, to my humble abode," he said as they embraced.

"Ha! Humble, he says," Mardez remarked, looking around. "I must admit, I doubted you when you said the pyramid was almost restored. But seeing it with my own eyes... it's remarkable," Mardez exclaimed.

"Thank you, my friend," Odnil said with a hint of pride. "Come, let me show you to your chambers. You must be tired."

Mardez nodded, then saw the Lhazareen gathering around them, curious, he gestured towards them. "I've noticed how the locals seem to hold you and your family in high regard."

"Of course, they love us," Odnil replied with a sardonic smile. "We've brought stability and prosperity to Lhazosh. And in return, they offer us their loyalty and respect," he added, letting out a laugh.

As Odnil led Mardez through the grand halls of the Black Pyramid, Mardez couldn't help but be impressed by the opulence surrounding him. The corridors were lined with ancient Ghiscari artifacts, and the walls were adorned with tapestries depicting the history of House Kaazn.

"This is quite the palace you've got here, Odnil. I can't help but wonder, how does your family afford such luxury?" Mardez remarked with a sly grin.

Odnil responded with a knowing smile, "All in good time, my friend."

He then showed Mardez to the lavish guest room prepared for his stay. "Rest up," Odnil suggested, "I'll come to fetch you for dinner. My whole family is eager to meet you."

Mardez thanked him and, once alone, approached the window, gazing out at the bustling city of Lhazosh below. 'The Kaazns are truly doing well for themselves here. I wonder if they will truly conquer all of Lhazosh.' he thought

As he settled into the guest room, his mind wandered to the history of the Kaazn family. The patriarch, Hordik, was once ridiculed for his exile from New Ghis. The reason for Hordik's exile was shrouded in secrecy, known only to a few. Over the years, Hordik had not only regained his wealth but also established dominion over Lhazosh, with some in New Ghis whispering about his broader ambitions to conquer all of Lhazar. Some believed this to be true since Qardal, Hordik's son, was reputed for his military acumen. There were rumors of him fighting off Dothraki hordes that tried to raid the city.

'No one wants competition,' he thought with a chuckle.

Odnil was Qardal's son, and he also had a half-sister, Odette. Mardez's own family was one of the greatest within New Ghis. When his uncle had learned of his friendship with Odnil, he quickly made plans to send him here, keen on forging a strong alliance with the Kaazns.

As the evening settled in, a well-rested Mardez was escorted to dinner by Odnil, where he would meet the rest of the Kaazn family. Odnil had mentioned that his step-mother would be absent, still recuperating from childbirth complications that had persisted since Odette's birth.

They entered a large, opulent dining hall. At the far end, Mardez saw a man who bore a striking resemblance to Odnil but more aged. Beside him, a little girl darted around playfully, her laughter echoing through the hall.

"Come, let me introduce you to my father," he said.

"Father, this is Mardez zo Rakzan, scion of the great house of Rakzan," Odnil said, introducing him.

"Welcome to our home, Mardez zo Rakzan," Qardal greeted warmly, extending a firm handshake. "It's a pleasure to host a friend of Odnil's, especially one from New Ghis."

Odette, curious, approached him. "Are you Odnil's friend?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes, little one, I am," Mardez replied, smiling down at her.

"Please sit, we are just waiting for my father to arrive," Qardal said, showing him his seat. They continued to make small talk, with Odette chiming in with her own questions. However, the cheerful atmosphere soon shifted as Hordik, the patriarch of the Kaazn family, made his entrance.

He was a large, imposing figure. His skin was pallid, almost as if it rarely saw the sunlight, and his eyes, sharp and penetrating, seemed to weigh Mardez in a single glance. The man's movements were limited, necessitating that he be wheeled to the head of the table, yet this did nothing to diminish his commanding aura.

Mardez couldn't shake off the feeling that Hordik's gaze held a hint of disdain, or perhaps suspicion, towards him. As Hordik settled at the head of the table, servants quickly attended to him, laying out a feast befitting his status. With dinner beginning, the cheerful atmosphere had subtly changed; he felt the elder's eyes on him throughout the meal, and he dared not look in his direction.

An uneasy quiet lingered between the adults. Odette, blissfully unaware, chirped happily to her father and grandfather about her day. As the main course arrived, Hordik turned his gaze to Mardez. "So, Mardez zo Rakzan, tell me, how is life in New Ghis these days?" His voice was deep and authoritative.

"New Ghis remains prosperous, my lord. The markets are thriving, and there is less feuding between families…" He couldn't finish as Hordik interrupted.

"It's strange to be called a lord by a Ghiscari noble. No one has called me 'Hordik zo Kaazn' in a long time. I have gone by just Hordik Kaazn for most of my life," he said, looking into the distance as if remembering something.

The nobility of Ghiscar are recognized by the usage of 'zo' in their name. When they were exiled, the Kaazns lost their title.He could see Odnil and Qardal's expressions changing; they seemed annoyed by Hordik's behavior.

Hordik paused, then his voice took on a sardonic edge. "Your great-grandfather was a great man, one I respected. But your grandfather, well, he was quite the opposite, wasn't he? One of the biggest cunts to walk this world."

Qardal, frowning, started to interject, "Father, I don't think—"

But Hordik raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Let the man speak, Qardal. Well, Mardez zo Rakzan, is it true?"

Mardez, maintaining his composure, managed a wry smile. "Yes, Lord Hordik. It's true. My grandfather had his... shortcomings, and my uncle has followed his example."

Hordik chuckled, the sound rumbling from his large frame. "See, Qardal? This one here is honest. I like that." He then turned to Odnil. "Your friend has a spine, Odnil. Make sure you keep him close."

"I know what you are trying to do, my son," Hordik said, turning to Qardal. As soon as the atmosphere had lightened, it returned to how it was.

"Father…" Qardal tried to say.

"You wish to go back and regain our status, isn't that right, my son?" Hordik's tone was growing dangerous by the minute.

As the father and son began their tense standoff, his gaze went to his friend, who seemed embarrassed by it all. Odette, oblivious, suddenly stood up on her chair, holding a spoon like a scepter. "I am the queen of Lhazosh!" she declared in her tiny voice.

Everyone at the table turned to look at her, surprised by the sudden outburst. Hordik suddenly forgot his anger at his son and cracked a smile. "Oh, is that so, my little queen? And what will be your first decree?"

Odette pondered for a moment, her brows furrowed in thought. Then, with a bright smile, she exclaimed, "More sweets for dinner!"

Laughter broke out around the table. Hordik chuckled heartily, his eyes softening. "A queen after my own heart," he said. "You heard her, more sweets," he called to the servants.

---

After dinner, Odnil escorted Mardez through the corridors of the pyramid. "I must apologize for my grandfather..." Odnil began.

Mardez waved off the concern with a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it, Odnil. I have one back home as well," he said, chuckling.

"Ah, yes, your uncle," Odnil replied. Seeking to lighten the mood, Odnil shifted the topic to more personal matters. "So, will you marry that girl you fancied?"

Mardez's expression soured at the mention. "No, that's off the table," he said bitterly. "My uncle insists I marry one of his girls. I have little choice in the matter." he quickly calmed himself.

"Enough about my woes. I wish to see it," Mardez said, mentioning one of the reasons he had come here.

A sly grin spread across Odnil's face. "Of course, my friend." With that, he led Mardez to the lower levels of the pyramid. Reaching a concealed door, Odnil ushered Mardez into an expansive underground chamber. He could hear faint sounds of shackles clinking and calls for help from men and women. Odnil took out a torch, and now Mardez could see rows of cells, crudely constructed, each holding Lhazareen men, women, and children.

Odnil, with a gleeful tone, began to boast about the efficiency of their operation. "You see, Mardez, the Lhazareen are as foolish as they are weak," he sneered, gesturing towards the captives. "They fall into our traps like flies to honey. It's almost too easy." As they walked between the rows, Odnil elaborated on their methods: abducting villagers under the cover of night, deceiving travelers, and sometimes, orchestrating raids with local bandits. He spoke of the slave pens as a farmer would of his livestock.

"This batch will be transported to Yhos soon. They should have been gone weeks ago, but that priestess has been looking into our operations here," Odnil said, clearly annoyed. Whoever this priestess was.

"The priestess?" Mardez asked, confused.

"Ah, I see that you don't know of the new god here in Lhazar," Odnil said, clearly surprised.

"Yes, I have. I thought that was just tall tales from merchants," Mardez replied, his interest piqued as they continued to navigate through the shadowy underbelly of the pyramid.

Odnil laughed. "Oh, it's very real. The followers of this new god are increasing by the day. They're a nuisance, meddling in affairs they don't understand," he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"The Great Liberator, or Al-Muḥarrir as the locals call him, is no god, probably some sorcerer from the east who tricked these idiots into believing he is one." he explained

"It's funny how quickly they gave up on their old god" Odnil added with a laugh

"And this priestess, she's causing trouble for you?"

Odnil's expression hardened. "Yes, she's been snooping around, freeing some of our... merchandise. It's bad for business. We've had to increase our security and change our tactics frequently because of her," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice.

"Sounds like you have quite the problem on your hands," Mardez commented.

Odnil smirked, leaning in closer. "Don't worry, we have plans for this priestess and her followers. They won't interfere for much longer," he said, his eyes then turning to a woman in the cell next to them.

"Look, a pretty one," he said, as his eyes roamed over her body.

"That she is," Mardez agreed.

"Do you like her, my friend?" Odnil asked.

Mardez nodded as his eyes met with that of the terrified woman.

"Have her cleaned up and sent to my friend's room tonight," Odnil barked to the guards nearby and turned to Mardez.

"Don't damage her too much," Odnil said with a sinister smile.

---

A convoy made its way through the lands south of Lhazosh, leaving a dusty trail along the road to the port of Yhos. The convoy consisted of thirty enslaved Lhazareen and ten armored men. This journey had been a simple affair for the longest time, but in the last two months, it had become more dangerous: three of the last convoys had been attacked, all their men killed, and the slaves freed.

The leader of the group, Shazar, a burly man with a scarred face, was annoyed by these recent incidents. He now had to worry about ambushes. His eyes scanned the surroundings, spotting the rocky terrain in the distance—a perfect place for an ambush. "Stay sharp and keep your eyes peeled," he growled, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The group advanced cautiously through the path, their eyes searching for any movement among the large rocks. Suddenly, the sharp hiss of an arrow cut through the air, followed by a thud as it found its mark in the chest of one of the armored men.

"Ambush!" the leader shouted, drawing his sword as he desperately sought cover.

More arrows flew with deadly precision, each finding its target with unnerving accuracy. They were unable to pinpoint the attackers, who remained hidden among the rocks. In minutes, the armed escort lay defeated, their bodies scattered across the path. The captives huddled together, afraid; they saw men and women emerging from their concealed positions among the rocks, who moved swiftly to unshackle them.

It was then they realized they were being rescued, not captured by another enemy.

 

[Pilesofbooks]

The house of Kaazn is about to have a bad time. The entirety of Slaver's Bay is about to have a bad time. The entirety of Essos is about to have a Bad Time. Planetos is about to have a Bad Time™.

 

[Illusiveone]

The house of Kaazn is about to have a bad time. The entirety of Slaver's Bay is about to have a bad time. The entirety of Essos is about to have a Bad Time. Planetos is about to have a Bad Time™.

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In two chapters

You will add the gods to the list as well.

 

[tamagat]

i like this chapter, its showing that jayson and his peeps is showing initiative, and rather than reacting is acting. glory to the liberator!

 

[Devrim]

And this shows why the ghiscari are absolutely despicable

 

[ATP]

In two chapters

You will add the gods to the list as well.

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Well,gods there are cunts,except maybe old gods - but they are weak and far away anyway.

And this shows why the ghiscari are absolutely despicable

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And stupid - they should knew better then enslave people who worshipp powerfull sorcerer.It is one thing to be evil,but other evil and stupid.
Difference like between Sralin,Mao and other commies and Hitler.
Ghiscari here are as evil and stupid as comrade Adolf.

 

[Illusiveone]

maybe old gods - but they are weak and far away anyway.

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Oh no they make an appearance as well. It will not end well for Jason.

 

[Devrim]

Well,gods there are cunts,except maybe old gods - but they are weak and far away anyway.

And stupid - they should knew better then enslave people who worshipp powerfull sorcerer.It is one thing to be evil,but other evil and stupid.
Difference like between Sralin,Mao and other commies and Hitler.
Ghiscari here are as evil and stupid as comrade Adolf.

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I would call adolf deluded instead of stupid

 

[Arimai]

Suddenly, the sharp hiss of an arrow cut through the air, followed by a thud as it found its mark in the chest of one of the armored men.

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Armor is just as nonexistent here as a Hollywood blockbuster I see. That should have bounce off or if he's wearing chain lodged into the gambeson underneath with most of the force absorbed by the maille.

I look forward to the Black Pyramid being melted down

 

[ATP]

Armor is just as nonexistent here as a Hollywood blockbuster I see. That should have bounce off or if he's wearing chain lodged into the gambeson underneath with most of the force absorbed by the maille.

I look forward to the Black Pyramid being melted down

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If i remember correctly,in book they use copper armour.Just like first armies of Sumer.GRRM is not only troll,but also idiot.

 

[Arimai]

If i remember correctly,in book they use copper armour.Just like first armies of Sumer.GRRM is not only troll,but also idiot.

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Copper scales on leather with gambeson would be just as effective as maille. Unfortunately with iron or steel arrows and weapons prevalent you'd need to repair it after every skirmish. Yes Martin is an idiot

 

[Krome]

Oh no they make an appearance as well. It will not end well for Jason.

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He's dying at the end, I'm calling it.

 

[OblivionFan007]

He's dying at the end, I'm calling it.

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Seems about right. Can't have canon derailed too much. Somehow, destiny will warp the world back in track.

 

[Carnifex-Chan]

Copper scales on leather with gambeson would be just as effective as maille. Unfortunately with iron or steel arrows and weapons prevalent you'd need to repair it after every skirmish. Yes Martin is an idiot

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Perhaps for our sanity we can pretend it's bronze instead?

 

[Illusiveone]

He's dying at the end, I'm calling it.

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He dies several times

 

[Mage King]

Copper scales on leather with gambeson would be just as effective as maille. Unfortunately with iron or steel arrows and weapons prevalent you'd need to repair it after every skirmish. Yes Martin is an idiot

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Martin is not good with numbers. So, he just messed up Armor Stats.

 

[Arimai]

Martin is not good with numbers. So, he just messed up Armor Stats.

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He consistently fucked up the setting. Armor isn't the only wonky thing. Outside of drama the world is screwy, rivers that run uphill to mountains having the wrong minerals for the stone type, to structures like Harenhall and the Dragonpit being built without magic to hold them up.

 

[ATP]

He dies several times

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It remind me many funny Mary Sue ASoiF stories from fanfiction.net,where powerpuff boobzilla come with strenght and army of followers,and then...Ned,Robb dies on schedule,just like everybody else,and only difference is out Boobzilla catching Jon Snow and riding into sunset.

 

[Arimai]

It remind me many funny Mary Sue ASoiF stories from fanfiction.net,where powerpuff boobzilla come with strenght and army of followers,and then...Ned,Robb dies on schedule,just like everybody else,and only difference is out Boobzilla catching Jon Snow and riding into sunset.

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Yup. I can warp reality to my will. But I'm too much of a dumbass to be able to change canon

 

[Illusiveone]

Mara walked through the ruins of the ancient Ghiscari city, observing the crumbling buildings around her, scarred and melted by dragonfire long ago. The only structure that remained undamaged was the large palace built into the canyon itself, where men, women, and children awaited her arrival to hear the morning sermon. Today, they would be joined by the thirty they had rescued the previous day, their largest group yet.

Mara was the first to be sent to Lhazosh by Arch-Priestess Irina, tasked with spreading the word of her god and establishing a small group of converts until more priestesses arrived. She was also asked to report back everything she could learn about Lhazosh.

She had great success initially, converting many locals and even piquing the interest of the ruling Kaazn family, who invited her to share more about her god. She thought she had gained the support of the family, and with their conversion, her task would become easier.

How wrong she was.

Three months went by, and she started noticing a troubling pattern. Many of her new followers came to her out of desperation, seeking the help of her god to find loved ones who had mysteriously disappeared; her attempts at preaching also started being obstructed. As she heard more and more about the missing loved ones of her growing flock, she decided to investigate their disappearances and over time, she realized they were far from random but were systematic and orchestrated.

The more she delved into the mystery, the more it became clear that a sinister operation was at play.

Her suspicions began to fall on House Kaazn; they were exiled Ghiscari nobility, loved and respected by the populace, but she had to wonder where their wealth came from. It seemed to increase drastically every year.

Using her growing network of converts and the resources at her disposal, Mara formed a small but dedicated team to investigate further. They worked tirelessly, often at great risk, to track down the missing individuals and gather evidence.

The truth was only revealed when they found one of the missing men who told them how he was abducted and imprisoned along with many others in a dark prison. He claimed he saw one of the Kaazns there, planning to take them to Port Yhos to be sold, but he had managed to slip away unseen.

She immediately sent word to the Arch-Priestess but received no response. Determined to put an end to the Kaazns' reign of terror, she decided to take matters into her own hands, she put together a group of brave men and women and planned to raid the convoys that took the captives to Yhos.

No more Lhazareen would be sold to Slaver's Bay.

She was informed of secluded ruins known to only a few, which she transformed into a stronghold for their resistance movement. Naming themselves the Liberators, in honor of their god, they began to raid and free the enslaved men and women.

Each freed captive became a part of their cause; some wished to leave for the city to tell their friends and family the truth, but the Kaazn had begun increasing patrols around the city as the raids increased, claiming it was to protect the city from a Dothraki threat. She often wondered if she could even convince the people of Lhazosh of the Kaazns' treachery; they were too loved, even with the freed captives behind her, many would not believe her.

She climbed up to the raised platform and began her sermon. She first introduced the newly arrived men and women to the group; this time, there were some children as well. She then told them of her god's arrival here, his first acts, how he had saved the city of Kosrak and liberated its people. She then went into his origins, taught to her by the Arch-Priestess herself, how he was helpless to save them as he was imprisoned by the ruinous powers and deceitful gods who viewed mortals like them as playthings.

"Al Muharrir is the embodiment of mercy and compassion, strength and justice. His mission is to liberate the oppressed, to break the chains of bondage, and to bring peace to this troubled land," she proclaimed.

"The teachings of the Great Shepherd have guided many to seek peace through pacifism, something we have done for centuries; this is wrong. We were led astray in the face of relentless evil, like the Kaazns and the horsemen; pacifism alone cannot protect us."

"Al Muharrir teaches us that peace often requires strength, the courage to stand against those who exploit and oppress."

Mara's voice grew more intense, "You are all victims of House Kaazn; they stripped you away from your freedom, your family, and loved ones. Al Muharrir sees this, and his heart aches at your plight."

"He is not a distant being who will not hear your prayers and pleas. He walks among us, sharing our burdens, feeling our pain, and fighting alongside us."

"He reigns supreme above all other gods, his will unchallenged, his power absolute. He is the source of all justice and righteousness, guiding us through his divine wisdom and strength."

"His compassion extends to all who seek his light, yet his justice is firm, striking down those who oppress and harm the innocent."

She continued her sermon, facing some interruptions from the newly arrived who still had strong devotion to the Great Shepherd; she debated them, and they had no answers to her questions.

They would not truly give themselves to the Liberator until he arrived in the city himself, something she hoped would be soon. She wondered about his divine plans and why he was taking so long, but it was not her place to question him.

Mara completed her sermon with a passionate call to faith and action. As she stepped down from the platform, Aman, her first convert and right-hand man, approached her.

"I bring news from the city," he said.

"What is it, Aman?" Mara inquired.

"One of our spies in the pyramid sent word that the Grand Vizier is coming to Lhazosh," he revealed.

Mara's eyes widened. "This is a sign, Aman! It means Al Muharrir himself will be with us soon," she exclaimed.

Turning to the gathered crowd, she announced, "My brothers and sisters, I have wonderful news! The Grand Vizier of our god is coming to Lhazosh. This heralds the near arrival of Al Muharrir himself!" Her voice echoed through the ruins, sparking a cheer among the people, their faces alight with renewed hope and fervor.

"I must go to Lhazosh. I need to meet with the Grand Vizier and inform him of everything," she concluded.

---

As Garth and his retinue entered Lhazosh, he found the reception markedly different from what they had experienced in Hesh. The streets were lined with curious onlookers, their expressions one of confusion and intrigue; he quickly realized that Irina's influence, which she had boasted of, didn't extend to Lhazosh as much as she thought.

He was supposed to arrive here a month ago. It took him a long time to resolve the issues in Hesh. The city had been teetering on the brink of chaos after he exposed the deep-seated corruption within its leadership. He was forced to take swift, decisive action to stabilize the situation, appointing his trusted aide Darius to oversee the city's governance temporarily. He had to leave all his regular troops there as well.

His gaze was repeatedly drawn to the Black Pyramid, the ancient structure undergoing restoration. He hoped Mara, the priestess Irina had mentioned, would brief him on the situation here. There was no way this city was joining their burgeoning kingdom now; an alliance was all he could hope for, but all that depended on who was responsible for the slaver ring in the city.

As his eyes went to the Black Pyramid again, he saw a group of armored men approaching; the Immortals were on alert, but he motioned for them to stand down. As they approached, the leader of the group rode forward.

"I am Odnil Kaazn," the man announced with a respectful nod. "We are honored to welcome you, Grand Vizier, to Lhazosh."

Garth studied him for a moment before responding. "Thank you, Odnil Kaazn."

"As the Grand Vizier of the divine realm of Haven, I'm here to establish friendly relations with Lhazosh," he added.

"Let us talk more at my family residence. I assure you, my family is eager to meet you and discuss a potential alliance," he said, gesturing towards the Black Pyramid.

"Lead the way then, Odnil Kaazn."

---

Two days before Garth's arrival

Mara and her entourage, veiled in the garb of common travelers, made their way through the bustling streets of Lhazosh towards the modest residence she had called home for the last year. She hoped the Grand Vizier would arrive soon; she had to share the wicked plot she had uncovered as soon as possible.

As they neared the residence, a sense of unease crept over Mara. The streets seemed too quiet, the usual clamor of city life muted around her. Her instincts screamed danger, but before she could react, chaos erupted.

Figures emerged from the shadows. Her companions, including Aman, were swiftly overpowered, their attempts to defend themselves futile against the surprise assault.

She tried to escape, her legs pushing her forward through empty, narrow alleys. The attackers were well-prepared. They seemed to anticipate her every move, cutting off her paths and herding her towards a dead end.
In a final desperate attempt, Mara turned to confront her pursuers, ready to fight, to shout for help, but it was too late. A blunt force struck her from behind, sending sharp pain through her head, her vision blurred.

As the ground rushed up to meet her, Mara's last conscious thought was a silent plea for her god to watch over her flock, to guide the Grand Vizier to the truth. Darkness then enveloped her, the sounds of the city fading into a distant echo as she succumbed to the void of unconsciousness.

 

[Illusiveone]

Day ???? of jason's seclusion

Jason did not know where he was or when he was; he did not even know if he was awake or dreaming. He had been lying on the ground, looking at a cloudless sky for... he didn't know how long. He had lost track of time but didn't care. This was much better than dying.

He remembered dying a lot, with a lot of fire... yes, lots of fire... and the voices... Well, recently, it was just one voice. It always told him to give up, to submit.

He almost did a few times, but he didn't.

That was the only control he had now: the fact that he didn't give in to what the voice wanted, and he would never give up, no matter how horrible the next death would be.

He could hear the sound of the sea; the ground seemed to be moving as well. He stood up and saw that he was on a small boat, sailing through a serene sea. The sun shone brightly, reflecting off the calm, clear waters, and a gentle breeze wafted through the air. This was different from the fire and brimstone he had come to expect.

'What are you playing at?' he thought.

He enjoyed the peace for a moment. He felt a sense of tranquility, but this was short-lived. Without warning, the sky darkened as ominous clouds gathered.

'Ah, there it is,' he thought, as he prepared himself.

The sea, once serene, turned treacherous, with colossal waves rising high above it crashed over the boat with furious intensity. He struggled to maintain his balance as the vessel was tossed about like a mere toy in the clutches of the raging storm.

"Submit... submit... submit..." he could hear the voice again from the depths of the sea.

As the boat splintered under the assault of the storm, he was thrown into the icy grasp of the sea. He fought to swim upwards, to break through the surface and gasp for air, but he couldn't; something was pulling him down.

As much as he tried, he found himself being dragged down; the further he was dragged, the greater the pressure increased, and the water crushed against him. The light from above faded as he was pulled deeper into the ocean's dark, suffocating embrace. His lungs screamed for air; he could still hear the voice in his head telling him to submit and give up. His vision blurred and cold seeped into his bones, numbing his body as he descended into the silent, oppressive darkness. Finally, his instinct to breathe won over. Water filled his lungs, a painful, burning sensation that marked the final moments of his struggle.

---

When Jason woke up, he found himself lying on a beach, gasping for breath. He sat up, and his body convulsed as he expelled water from his lungs and stomach. It was a horrible feeling.

Calming down, he looked around; he was surrounded by the remnants of countless shipwrecks. The sky was dark with storm clouds, and splintered wood was strewn across the shore. He slowly stood up and, in the distance, perched atop a cliff, he could see a gigantic castle.

'That's a big castle. Am I in Westeros? Is that Storm's End...?' Before he could finish his thoughts, a bolt of lightning struck the ground near him, sending him to the ground again.

He staggered back to his feet and looked to the sky again, seeing sparks of electricity swirling ominously. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the castle, knowing what was about to happen.

As he ran, lightning bolts struck the ground around him with increasing frequency, followed by deafening thunder. He expertly maneuvered through the lightning bolts striking near him. The castle was so close now.

'I am going to make it,' he thought happily. But he celebrated too soon, as a massive bolt of lightning struck him directly, sending searing pain tearing through his body as if it were being ripped apart piece by piece. It ravaged his body, burning his flesh, fracturing his bones, and it felt as if it scorched his very soul. Yet, he hadn't died; he was still conscious.

"ARRRGGHHH!!! UGHHH!!" he screamed.

The voice returned, this time booming from the sky; with each word, it sent lightning onto his prone body.

"Submit... submit... submit..." it thundered.

His spirit was battered, but it did not break. "NOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, defiance fueling his battered body. His refusal was met with the full force of the storm's fury, sending a final, devastating bolt to finish him off, and then he met the familiar comfort of darkness once more.

---

When Jason woke up again, he was laughing like a madman, finding himself in a forest. He felt the cool air on his skin, and his laughter echoed through the trees.

His gaze darted around as he took in the dense canopy of ancient trees.

"Heh... heh heh heh..." he chuckled with a tinge of madness. He slowly stood up, taking deep breaths with occasional laughter in between.

He closed his eyes and calmed himself. "I control this," he muttered to himself. "This is my dream; it's in my head."

As he wandered deeper into the forest, the underbrush thickened, and the air grew heavy with the scent of earth and decay. He kept repeating, "I control this," like a mantra as he explored the forest.

Eventually, he stumbled into a clearing, his eyes drawn to a solitary white tree amid a sea of green grass. Its leaves were a deep, vibrant red, and as he approached, he noticed the face etched into the bark, with a stream of red liquid seeping from its eyes.

"A weirwood," he murmured, the realization dawning on him. "The old gods... they're supposed to be the good ones, right?" Hope flickered within him, the thought that perhaps these ancient deities could end his torment.

As he neared the tree, a voice whispered in his ear, a soft, sinister murmur that grew in intensity with each step. "Jason... Jason..." it called, drawing him closer.

Then, those haunting words filled the air, chilling him to his core: "Submit, submit."

Rage ignited within Jason, a fierce, burning fury that seemed to set his very soul ablaze. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

"No!" he shouted at the tree, at the forest, at the gods themselves. He then resumed his maddened laughter.

"What, nothing to show me? Is it because you are a tree?" he taunted, his laughter filling the air.

The forest seemed to respond, the wind whipping through the trees with sudden, violent force. Then, from the ground, roots burst out and tangled his feet, dragging him toward the weeping weirwood. His hands found his feet, and in a show of strength, he ripped the roots off. He stood up again with a smile on his face.

"I am in control," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.

He stood there, waiting for the tree gods' next move, and he didn't have to wait too long. The ground beneath him erupted, sending roots spiraling toward him. But this time, Jason was ready. Raising his hands, he summoned his powers, something he could not use during his torment.

"I am in control," he said again, and the advancing roots halted in mid-air, quivering as if meeting an invisible barrier.

"HAHAHAHAHA!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" he laughed out loud.

"FUCK YOU!" he shouted as he unleashed his full might against the tree, intending to uproot the very symbol of his torment.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his chest; he looked to see a solitary root impaled through it. His body went limp, the pain excruciating, but he did not scream; he was numb to it now. The roots once again caught him and dragged him to the tree.

"Submit, submit..." it taunted.

"NOOOO!" he screamed. The tree did not stop; he felt himself being drawn into the gnarled trunk, his body merging with the ancient wood. His face was the last to be absorbed, his screaming defiance etched into the tree.

---

Jason awoke to a cold he had never felt before. He was in a blizzard. Without waiting around, he fought his way through it, searching for shelter. After a while, to his relief, the blizzard lessened, gradually revealing the full moon in the sky.

He noticed a large structure in the distance; it was like a huge skyscraper made of ice. He walked towards it, and as he got closer, he could see a throne made of ice at its base, shimmering under the moonlight. His heart began beating faster as he saw a shadowy figure seated upon it.

'Ice, ice, throne... was that the Night's King?' he thought. Suddenly, he heard the figure laugh; it was as if it had heard his thoughts—a mocking laugh.

'No, no, this was something else, something more ancient,' he thought.

He prepared for their inevitable clash, but the figure did not move.

Frustration boiling over, he shouted into the howling wind, "What, not going to ask me to submit?" The shadowy figure simply laughed again, then slowly shook its head.

"Huh?" Jason managed to respond.

Suddenly, the world twisted and shifted around him; the cold, the snow, and the ice melted away as if they were mere illusions. He found himself back in a familiar setting, standing on the terrace of his grand temple, he felt the warmth of the sun on his skin.

'What now?' he wondered.

He then heard sounds of applause behind him. Turning, Jason froze; his breath caught in his throat as he saw the figure walking towards him. It was him—the man walking towards him was himself.

The doppelgänger wore his features perfectly and approached with a confident swagger. Dressed in fine clothes, it exuded a powerful, menacing aura; its eyes glowed like molten lava.

Stopping just a few feet away, the doppelgänger surveyed him with a look of amusement and superiority. It tilted its head slightly, a smirk playing on its lips, and said in a voice that was eerily familiar yet laced with malice,

"You have to admit, I wear this body better than you."

 

[tamagat]

RIP AND TEAR UNTIL ITS DONE!

 

[Zam138]

So, while I liked most of the story, I do have a criticism: this may just be my personal preference speaking, but I feel like if supporting characters get in trouble due to events caused by a seemingly-literal Deus-Ex-Machina "Forced Seclusion" of the MC, rather than something the MC themselves chose to do, it then causes any drama or tension meant to be produced by those events occurring in the world to become more and more artificial-feeling, with that contrived feeling increasing more and more the longer they have no agency in the story due to the outside interference.

The MC has been stuck spinning their wheels for a few chapters now due to "Angry Gods" getting involved with an "Uppity mortal", which while such a thing might be normal in a setting with gods being active, it makes much less sense when they haven't done this with pretty much anyone else in the present era in the setting, especially when the gods not giving a damn was a plot point prior in the story. And while character growth can occur during a seclusion story-arc, its impacts hit far, far less with an audience when there's events going on in the world that we're being told as if we're meant to be invested in them, since any tension or threat to those side characters is due to literal (and AU) divine intervention preventing the MC from doing anything about them.

Like, if you have a clear, defined MC, and then have "things which didn't occur in canon" happen in order to force them into the narrative's closet while Side-Characters are endangered, then the tension quickly becomes stale as the narrative starts begging questions like "Why didn't the gods care until this exact moment?" and "Why have they not intervened when their followers were threatened before?"

EDIT: As an example, look at the difference in vibes between these two concepts:

-The MC is trapped in seclusion, a victim of god-sent visions (that might cause him to grow in power Shounen-style if he overcomes them) while his underlings are imperiled.
-The MC chooses to go into seclusion, ignoring his underlings being in danger in order to mediate on his powers and/or become more skilled and stronger with his powers.

 

[Maleficarum]

I'll be honest I just haven't found the last few chapters entertaining. I was here for the MC and well… everything he does is timeskip accomplished and we don't see the build up or connections and reasonings before it's long done. Gonna drip for now.

 

[GuitarBOSS]

For the love of god, have something happen in this story. This entire chapter could just have been a single paragraph of quickly flashing scenes and nothing would have been lost, narratively.

There's no point flashing back to this when we've already seen that he just wakes up eventually. Get on with it.

 

[Lican]

Wait, did Jason wake up, or the doppleganger?