Kapitel 24: Chapter 22 - Pride Before the Fall 4
Edit: Changed some of the dialogue between Arin and Rhodry since I found it quite cringy to read, along with his interactions with Rhodry's family.
Edit 2: Fixed the dialogue between Arin and Rhodry again, once I found that it wasn't up to standard.
Chapter XXII: Pride before the Fall, Part IV
1 BC
Zolha Noy (Sandstone)
News of the swift lifting of the Siege of Zolha Noy came as a shock to all the lands of Eyarha, of all of Dorne and the Reachmen expedition; the fact that a single Dornish army could so swiftly target and eliminate the chain of command of the besiegers beleaguered belief. It was both a ray of hope for the Dornish and a cause for alarm among the Reachmen.
For the first time since the War of Roses and Serpents [1] began, the attackers faced a formidable foe who was undeterred by the Reachmen's superior numbers and equipment.
At the beginning of the siege, 10,000 Reachmen besieged the castle of Sandstone while House Qorgyle had only 2,000 to defend their homes along with House Rada's reinforcements of 3,000 troops. By the siege's end, House Qorgyle lost three-quarters of its men while the Reachmen lost close to half their number and several high-ranking officers. Close to five minor noble houses now faced extinction following the deaths of all their male heirs. Even worse for the Reach, the honoured House Tyrell lost its eldest heir Theo, though thankfully his body was returned intact and prepared by the Silent Sisters for burial, along with the corpses of all other perished nobles.
House Rada, on the other hand, lost only a hundred in the skirmishes that followed.
Rhodry threw a terrible tantrum, tossing and turning and smashing expensive furniture in his chambers as his wroth took over his being. Wood splintered, glass shattered, and angry rants echoed throughout the halls of the castle as the servants and guards studiously ignored this everyday occurrence in their lives.
It was only at the end of his minutes-long tantrum that a servant dared knock on the door, and Rhodry used his fury-filled face to intimidate the daring interloper. The maid, on the other hand, was completely stoic and calm in the face of his rage.
"My Lord," The maid said, "His Lordship Arin sends his regards."
And before he could react, he saw the maid put a flute-like object to her lips, and then he felt a small pinprick on his neck. In seconds, he suddenly saw his world turn into a blurry rainbow-coloured kaleidoscope, a wave of dizziness taking over his senses. He collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, his eyes gradually closing.
That… damned whore…
Then, darkness.
IIOII
There were two children in a single cell, terrified and terribly bruised with severe injuries on their persons and chained like dogs, fed only the vilest slop to feast upon. Black and blue bruises, lacerations from whips and even cuts on their skin, no injury was truly lethal, merely to inflict as much pain as possible to break their spirits. Their clothes were roughspun and tattered, and they stank of piss, guts and sweat, the result of not bathing for several days.
"Heh, look at these brats, not so high and mighty now, are they?"
"Nah, they always loved being fucking annoying, sitting on top of their high and mighty thrones while we have to scrape by on the bare minimum. I remember days when we couldn't even eat meat scraps and had to do with veggies and eggs."
"What about Lord Rhodry, then?"
"Well, he's just as arrogant and hot-tempered as other nobles, but definitely much more terrible in terms of retribution. I don't miss those other arrogant arseholes, to be honest."
"Best not let him hear you criticise him; his temper's a lot worse than before."
"Yeah, if he does get angrier, no better than to sic him on his own wife and kids."
The guards' taunting made the children shiver and cry, the two huddling each other tighter, fervently praying beneath their breaths for a miracle.
"Please… let this end…" They whispered.
And their prayers were answered; their guards' taunting was silenced as their corpses fell to the ground with a thump. The shocked children quickly huddled up tighter, screaming at the sight of the dead guards, before they saw a single woman come within their sight.
She was a matronly woman in her late twenties, clad in maid garments that seemed pristine and immaculate that concealed a highly athletic yet curvaceous figure. Her skin was a light olive brown, her long hair black and her eyes brown - a Greenblood Dornish. With deft hands she lifted a key from the dead guards which she used to open their cell.
"W-Who are you…?" Questioned the boy.
With a reassuring smile, the maid said, "I am Maryse [2] of the Tian Feng Huang, and I am here to help you."
Relief seeped into their very beings, and between all the fear, terror and stress they endured in the past several months under their father's tyranny, they passed out.
IIOII
"Ugh…"
Rhodry Qorgyle felt his eyes gradually awaken, whatever poison the maid subject him too fading from his mind. As his sight returned, he saw that he was no longer in his personal study but a dark, dank cell deep in the castle dungeons, a welcome break from the harsh desert heat.
What was unwelcome was the way his hands and legs refused to budge. In alarm, he tried to budge them with greater force only to be stonewalled in his efforts, and he realised he was tied to a chair with no way to free himself.
"Who dares imprison me and treat me like a felon!? I am the Lord of House Qorgyle and Sandstone, you hear me!? Does anyone hear me!?"
"Look who decided to sting back."
Rhodry turned to face Arin Rada who stood by the side, leaning against the wall while covering his ears. To his alarm, he also saw his own family standing beside him, looking very uncertain yet angry and defiant. His wife Elia, his eldest daughter Druselka and his son Lewyn, all dressed in fine clothes and covered in bandages. The glare of suppressed rage threatening to boil over disturbed him less than the fact his nephew stood before him, a look of terrible disdain in his eyes.
Surrounding him were a group of men, all cloaked to obscure their identity from his eyes. He did not need to think twice whose men they were - or that maid who incapacitated him.
Seems like I could never hide it from this brat…
"So, the prodigious nephew finally captures me. I suppose I should be honoured," Rhodry spat to the side with a wicked smile, "Come to exact your revenge?"
Arin punched him hard, cracking his nose.
"Agh! Fuck, you lunatic! You broke my nose!" He cursed loudly.
Arin gestured to one of his men, who quickly stuffed a cloth gag into his mouth. He ranted and raved, tried and failed to flail his arms around like a wailing toddler, motioning to strangle Arin where he stood.
"I know you have questions, Uncle, but how about I start with this: There are two evils that bedevil Dornish politics, of the type that you practise," Arin started, sharpening his knife, "Number one is fleecing; you whisper sweet nothings into the ears of others, promising them great wealth and security in exchange for selling out their masters. Number two: Familial abuse. Due to being on the receiving end of no small amount of bullying by your relatives, you snapped and then proceeded to take matters into your own hands, engineer many an accident and betrayal to seize power for yourself, and then inflict suffering on your own family to work out your anger issues."
Rhodry calmed down at Arin's words, looking at him with both shock and defiance.
"To be honest with you, if you weren't such a spiteful prick, I'd actually respect the efficiency with which you got rid of your enemies," Arin stated, putting down his sharpened knife, "But abusing your family, just because they did not support your plans and ambitions? I'm no saint, but even for conquerors and players there are lines we must never cross."
Arin took out Rhodry's gag, and here he began his long tirade against his nephew.
"Don't you dare presume to lecture me!" Rhodry roared back, "I was the eldest son, and yet Father dared pass me over for Arris all because they clung to useless tradition! So what if we hold true to Rhoynish ways!? That means nothing in the face of survival! And yet I was sent here out to the desert to marry a spare heir, a spare! Do you know how much humiliation I endured, having to deal with the insufferable attitudes of superiority my own in-laws gave me, treating me like a dog!"
"Your own wife and children were willing to support you," Arin pointed out, his eyes twitching and his voice straining to remain calm.
Rhodry huffed, spitting to the side, "Elia did nothing to support me; she always told me to never cross my in-laws however much I hate them. I despised how she tried to soothe me, coddle me into respecting blood and kin. What the fuck did my kin do for me? What did House Rada do for me, or House Qorgyle, for that matter? As for those brats? Heh, they echoed their mother's words because 'she was there for them'."
"Y-You were never there for us!" Druselka weakly bit back, her eyes filled with tears, "I always wanted you to praise me, love me everytime I did well in my lessons, but you never said anything! You never gave us the love we wanted!"
"I just wanted to be a great warrior!" Lewyn exclaimed, "I practised hard with the bow and spear, I learned how to ride a horse, I studied under a capable, competent commander, just to make you proud, make our family proud, that we weren't useless spares! I didn't want to follow your orders on kinslaying!"
"And that means nothing, brats," Rhodry sneered, laughing hoarsely through his bleeding broken nose, "You know, I wanted to emulate my nephew's success, implement his methods. I made harmless suggestions and instead I was laughed at. You were willing to turn a blind eye to your family's mistreatment of me, all because we're tied by blood. My ambition, my desires, spat upon by my family. You took the life that was rightfully mine, all of you."
"You were entertaining the thought of kinslaying," Elia put forth, her voice broken and hoarse, "I had to stop you from doing something you would regret."
"I regret nothing, Elia," Rhodry answered with finality, his voice so soft it was barely audible in the crowded cell, "After all the humiliation I suffered, after everything I lost… vengeance is the only thing I have left. It is only fitting I punished you three for refusing to help me. Heh, I truly loved the way your brothers and their children screamed when my men hacked their corpses into pieces."
Shock and terror filled the eyes of Rhodry's family as they beheld Rhodry's depravity, and they huddled together, shivering from a metaphorical cold that chilled them to their very souls. Yet greater was the utter betrayal, the sound of their broken hearts and crushed hopes discordant and nightmarish in the minds of those who heard Rhodry's words.
Arin's eyes simmered into a cold rage, one suppressed behind a stoic facade but nevertheless bone-chilling, and even in his rage and depravity, Rhodry shivered as Arin approached.
"So killing you would be my only kindness?" Arin questioned, his voice even.
"Yes, nephew, though I do not think you have the guts to be a kinslayer," Rhodry smiled wickedly, "Or what, the Black Fox [3] can't kill his own uncle?"
Arin fixed him with a flat expression that showed he was unimpressed, as if his rage suddenly evaporated into nothingness.
"To be honest, I don't mind," Arin answered.
What scared Rhodry was not his seemingly ready acceptance of being a kinslayer, but more the flat, expressionless tone in which he delivered his answer, as if it was a boring children's book to toss away, as if there was no inferno dancing in Arin's eyes..
"But you won't die, at least not yet," Arin continued, "That doesn't mean I won't make you suffer, however."
Arin took a long, thick dagger and plunged it directly into Rhodry's left kneecap, twisting it with great force and moving it in a sawing motion. Rhodry's cries of pain resembled a ghost's wailing, and his family had to cover their ears which hurt from the volume and echoing in such a claustrophobic environment.
Arin took his sweet time mauling Rhodry's knee beyond repair, and only once he was done did he move to the next knee, repeating the same sadism he displayed and spraying blood all across his once-pristine clothes. He would proceed to do the same to both of Rhodry's elbows. By the time he was done, Rhodry was crippled for life, permanently dependent on servants to eat, clean and prepare himself for bed if he was allowed to live.
Rhodry had already passed out from all the pain he suffered.
"Take him away and clap him in chains," Arin ordered, "He is to be executed tomorrow morning."
His men wordlessly obliged, one of them hoisting Rhodry on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes heaving him out of the dungeon. He turned to face Rhodry's family, who wordlessly stared at Arin with no small amount of trepidation and fear. None of them dared to speak a word throughout the whole torture process, more surprised that Rhodry - their long-time tormentor - was now the one brought low.
He sighed again to himself, wiping the blood from his face, before he flashed them a more sympathetic look and said, "For what it's worth, you deserved better."
"I… appreciate the sentiment. Yet, why would you help us at all?" Elia inquired in bewilderment, "Y-You barely know us, and for all I know you could have killed your own uncle and… dealt with us too."
"I'm sensing a 'but' in there," Arin said.
"Yes, why didn't you?" Elia asked.
"...Just did not feel right," Arin answered, "As far as I know, you are just unfortunate victims in a long list of people that Rhodry's fucked over."
Elia felt herself smiling softly, "Thank you… Thank you, truly. If you had not come, I…"
"No need to dwell on such things; what's done is done, and we should move on from there," Arin interjected, "Anyway, right now there is one thing I want to give you all."
"What's that?" Asked Elia.
"The opportunity to kill your tormentors - Rhodry's minions," Arin answered.
"B-But surely you can order their execution?" Druselka questioned, "Or you could kill them yourself, perhaps?"
"I could," Arin confirmed, "However, this is to set you three free from my uncle's shadow - the shadows of your tormentors. They haunt you in your dreams even now, don't they?"
The Qorgyle family hesitantly nodded; day in, day out, all of them suffered great abuse, and not a day went by that they did not hear evil cackling or taunting in their waking moments and in their dreams, as if they were being punished for crimes they were unaware of.
"Then I'm telling you this: Unless you do this, unless you release pent up resentment against them, you will never be free from the chains they have on your mind and heart. You will live in perpetual fear against a shadow for the rest of your lives, unable to live in peace," Arin gently explained, his tone compassionate and empathetic, "If you truly wish to be free, this is a necessary step to take."
"But… neither mother nor I learned to use a weapon," Druselka cautiously answered, her eyes darting between Arin and the stone floor.
Arin gently outstretched a hand towards Druselka, and she quickly hid behind Elia and Lweyn who protectively shielded her. He halted, patiently waiting, and upon seeing no hostility or ulterior motive in Arin's eyes, she cautiously stepped forward and allowed Arin to pat her shoulder - a brotherly gesture transcending cultures.
It was a simple gesture of warmth and comfort, and Druselka found herself relaxing in the comforting, fatherly warmth of Arin.
"I know you are reluctant to engage in violence," Arin slowly said, showing great empathy and compassion, "However, violence is the only way you can avenge your family and all those you lost to your uncle's madness. I wish there was a nicer way to go about this, but there's certain things we simply cannot run away from."
"I fear we'd be no better than… than Rhodry," Elia muttered.
"You have each other, to stop you all from going too far down the abyss," Arin convinced, "Some lines should never be crossed, but that does not mean you have to meekly accept your suffering."
Those soft, gentle words struck a nerve within the three, who slowly changed expressions as enlightenment dawned upon their hearts. Their eyes became firm, their fists clenched, their lips taut.
And Elia said, "Please, bring out the prisoners, Lord Arin."
Arin nodded and gestured for his men to bring out the first prisoner, who was kicking and squealing against his captors. Bound to the same chair as Rhodry was, the prisoner witnessed one of Arin's men bring out a tray of sharp knives and place it on a nearby table.
The composed and dignified Elia Qorgyle quickly turned red-faced and trembled, her eyes brimming with tears of fury as she beheld the identity of the first prisoner.
"You… You were my trusted retainer, my sworn sword, and yet you turned on me the moment I released you from your duties for unjustly murdering an innocent servant! You captured me and bound me with rope, then left me to face my husband's rage all alone!" Elia uttered with rage, "Why is it that horrendous people like you live and good people die!?"
"I take it you want to go first, Elia?" Asked Arin.
Wordlessly, Elia took a long, serrated knife from the tray and walked towards the tied prisoner with an eerily calm demeanour. The prisoner trembled where he sat, yet before he could utter a muffled plea for clemency, Elia thrust the knife into his hands. With slow, messy thrusts, Elia slowly cut off each and every one of his fingers, and she derived sickening satisfaction from his pained screams, his tears of fear and his wet pants.
Then she went to slice his legs, cutting deep gouges in muscle and bone, before raining a hail of stabs upon his neck, chest and face.
A total of thirty-and-seven stab wounds were inflicted by her hands before he finally died, slumping to the chair.
Elia dropped the knife in her hands, her hands shaky and her lips trembling. Gently, Arin grabbed her hand and guided her to the end of the room before beckoning Druselka forward. He offered his own knife, which Druselka hesitantly took for the next prisoner - a woman dressed in maid uniform.
Upon seeing her, however, Druselka lost all hesitation and screamed like a banshee, and she rendered unto her the same service Elia rendered unto her victim.
Skin was flayed, bone crunched, meat sliced, and the once-beautacious maid became a repugnant thing of mutilated bone and flesh, her screams echoing throughout the chamber.
For countless agonising minutes, Drusekla raged and screeched at the top of her lungs until her throat turned hoarse, and she did not stop even when the maid's own screams subsided into nothingness, a single thought echoing through her head like a prayer.
Lose yourself… Lose yourself…
Only when Arin grabbed her hand did she stop, her bloodshot eyes turning to face Arin.
"She's dead, she's done, you're done," She heard him softly speak.
As the rage faded from her eyes, she saw the gory results of her handiwork, and she dropped the knife in shock, her hands shaky and her mind numb from an emotional high.
"S-She was… she was my most trusted handmaiden," Druselka brokenly stated, her voice racked with sobs and her body trembling with anger, disappointment and despair, "She was my paramour. I loved her deeply, I shared my secrets with her, secrets I did not dare tell my family or anyone else. When our father developed an increased tendency towards madness, I told her of a plan concocted by mother to gather enough loyal retainers to imprison father and those who followed his mad plan for vengeance. I did not expect her to rat me out, and I saw her walk away with a fat purse of coins while I languished in a cell. She looked remorseful, but if she was remorseful, why did she betray me?"
"Druselka," Arin whispered, "There are times when even best friends can turn on you when you least expect it. Maybe they wanted to save their own hides, maybe they wanted to benefit somehow, maybe it is both. Whatever her reason was, she betrayed you, and now she has to face the consequences."
"I loved her, I trusted her, she betrayed me. I trusted her from the day she first swore herself to my service…" Druselka repeated, her voice so soft and broken it caused Arin's face to twist with heartbreak, "If I cannot trust her, how can I trust anyone else?"
"In my experience, those I can trust are those who have faced terrible circumstances and learned to adapt by my side, and those who gained what they have by serving at my side," Arin admitted, "Even then, I can only truly trust a handful of men, especially when I make highly questionable decisions others will not approve. I've been on the receiving end of betrayals by other noble families when I acted to improve my family's situation myself. All I can say is… to trust people, sometimes you must first doubt them and their intentions."
Druselka wordlessly nodded, and went away.
Finally, there was Lewyn, and for him there was an unkempt elderly man, swaddled in bandages and bruised heavily in the face. Lweyn's eyes widened, his hands trembled and his body shook, while the elderly man looked at Lewyn like he looked at a dog.
"So, the prodigal boy lives," The elderly man rasped, "Should have known you'd live through all that torture."
"...Did you truly despise me that much?" Lewyn questioned, his face twisted in grief and betrayal.
"Well, you happily barked like a dog towards your mother, whom you were so happy to please even by taking credit for all the things I did for you. You were showered with praise while I was left in the lurch with nary a coin nor a smidgen of fame to show for it," Spat the elderly man, wincing at the pain in his blackened eye, "When my own brother was accused of rape and murder, no one stood for him but me. You, on the other hand, barked at me and shouted that we should preserve family ties, that we should not make enemies of your uncles and aunts."
"But Doran-"
"Shut up, you fucking brat," Doran spat in the boy's face, "Good thing you suffered in the dungeon; hope you learned a good lesson about being selfish and taking things for yourself. My oath's shit, my honour's shit, your family's honour was shit. That's why I betrayed you, boy; you don't have the guts to do what's necessary."
Doran huffed, coughing out globs of blood.
"Just get it over with already," He sneered.
Hurt and betrayal flashed across Doran's eyes, a waterfall of tears falling down his cheeks. Arin handed him a hammer - a carpenter's hammer - and Lweyn took the hammer in his hands, trembling as he stepped closer.
"Heh, too scared to use it on me?" Doran taunted, "Well, remember that time when you protected your sister from my fellow knights who-"
Lweyn smashed hard into his skull, causing him to cry out in pain. Before he could react, Lewyn kicked him down onto the ground and he went to work, hammering away and breaking his skull until he ceased to move. When the light left Doran's eyes, Lweyn lifted his hammer, halting in his strike as he seemed to contemplate whether to continue, before sighing sadly and standing up, handing the bloody hammer to Arin who put it away on the table.
"It's over…" Lewyn muttered sorrowfully, consoled by his mother who hugged him tightly, "Everything we have, everything we thought we once had… is gone."
"Part of it is over, Lewyn," Arin gently informed, "I know this is not a good time, but with your father's death and my plans to purge all his lackeys, Sandstone will be left without a governing body to hold things down while the Reachmen ready to push forward. Will you be willing to take up the reins?"
Lweyn shook his head brokenly, "I do not want to become the next Lord of House Qorgyle."
Arin's eyes widened in surprise, yet before he could ask any questions, it was Druselka who spoke next.
"I do not want to become the next Lady of Sandstone either," She answered, her eyes black as midnight and staring at nothing, "I do not want to stay here; it has too many bad memories. We lost everything here - there is nothing left for us."
Elia stepped forward and said, "I apologise if you are bewildered, but… I do not think there is any value in us staying and retaining our titles and lands, personally or politically. W-We just want to get as far away from this place as possible."
Arin nodded sympathetically at the Qorgyles, his lips pursed as he exhaled deeply through his nose.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news then, but I need someone to hold down the fort while I go and fight the Reachmen," He stated with remorse, "I am sorry, but I have to ask more of you; I need someone to be in place as ruling lord or lady of Sandstone, even if only temporarily."
"Surely one of your commanders could take the position?" Elia questioned.
"Yes, they can, but consolidating conquests is not a game of numbers and nominations," Arin pointed out, "I would need time to overhaul the local code of law and fill in the vacancies, and select the right personnel. Also, training a new batch of capable clerks takes months, and between securing all of Eastern Dorne and fighting off the Reachmen I am stretched to the limit. Depending on circumstances, I may need upwards of at least one to two years to stabilise things once I have driven back the Reachmen."
Not to mention that as Greenblood Dornish, any of his commanders would not truly be accepted as a suitable governor among the locals, loathe as Arin was to admit it. House Qorgyle, despite the blackening of its name under Rhodry, was still accepted as the ruler of Zolha Noy, and with one of its surviving scions ruling as the new Lord or Lady of the house Arin hoped to provide a beacon of stability for the short term.
Arin saw the hesitation of the entire Qorgyle family, and he added gently, "I am not asking you to stay forever; just until things have calmed down."
Lewyn hesitantly nodded, his eyes darting between Arin and the floor.
Arin could not hold his hesitance against him; were it any ordinary person, they could have cracked from the mental strain of all the physical and mental abuse they suffered. If they were of stronger will, they could live but with permanent nightmares etched in their memory. If not, they may turn to committing suicide just to end their pain.
And yet, the world waited for no one, trauma or no trauma. The least he could do was task some empathetic people to help them through their trauma during their stay.
"W-We will stay," He answered.
Arin's expression showed great relief as he patted him on the shoulder, his men leading the Qorgyle Family out of the dungeon. Once he left, the Tian Feng Huang [4] took over, and that night the dungeon rang with the screams of the dead and dying as the Triad gangsters went to work slaughtering the prisoners with methods most painful.
IIOII
Reachmen Expedition Camp
There was disbelief and anger among the Reachmen, and it took much soothing from honeyed tongues and a single bellow for order from King Mern for the hot-headed generals to calm down. Though respectful and even generous towards the dead, House Rada was still a Dornish house in the end and thus their greatest enemy.
"We cannot let this go unanswered; we must rally our troops and take the initiative, smash apart House Rada's forces before they can be allowed to bring their full might to bear against us."
In his months of campaigning against the Dornishmen, Brandyll Tarly had developed an affinity for troop mastery in defence of critical strongholds and formations, building them into a mountain of steel against a tornado with winds capable of slicing rock. Where a hail of spears rained upon his position, he would give orders to defend and dig, enduring and weathering every sandstorm, every steel rain they threw at him, patiently awaiting the enemy's exhaustion while his comrades leaped in for the kill.
For him to so readily suggest taking to the field against the Dornishmen spoke volumes about his willingness to take such a huge risk. Or perhaps his opinion that to simply hunker down in fortresses and wait for the Dornish to die on their walls was not an option.
"I appreciate your passion and initiative, Brandyll, but does this not go against your usual doctrine of defence?" King Mern questioned, his eyes fixated upon the young man.
"Truth be told, Your Majesty, this is the best way to defend ourselves against the menace of Arin Rada," Brandyll stated, his voice firm and resolute yet tinged with caution, "Arin has shown in the Siege of Sandstone that he does not hesitate to resort to any number of tricks to ensure victory, and even goes as far as to place his own life at risk. Therefore we must seize the initiative and refocus all our strength and speed to fight him in an open field where we are strongest, or we risk handing over the initiative to him."
None of the Reach commanders could see a problem with wanting to seize the initiative - many wanting to do so themselves - and yet the actions of House Rada raised an alarm among the gathered commanders eager to conclude this war with a victory.
"So in the end, the best defence is a good offence, I like it," Mern smiled slightly, his quirked lips visible through his thick facial hair, "How do you propose we fight him, then?"
"I believe we should do it like this," Brandyll suggested, "We have a mounted vanguard swiftly move in and charge towards their main camp, cause as much damage as possible to soften them up for the main attack by our infantry. We do this for several nights, and they will be suitably demoralised. Once our full strength falls on them, Arin will die, and all of Dorne shall fall under our control."
"This will be unlike any battle we have fought, Brandyll," Mern warned the entire war council, his eyes hard and his hands tense, "Are you prepared?"
Brandyll steeled himself, taking a deep breath.
"I honestly do not know what to expect, Your Grace," Brandyll admitted, "Yet battles with our greatest enemy are battles we must fight. For the Reach, for all those who have suffered at the hands of the Dornish, for all the wealth they have plundered and every other sin they have committed in the eyes of the Seven."
Mern nodded approvingly with a growing smile, as did the assembled lords who burned with the desire to avenge a most distinguished nobleman of the Reach. Theo Tyrell, son of the venerable Harlan and a distinguished veteran of several battles, would be honoured with a mountain of Dornish skulls as a gift to him in the afterlife.
Thus Mern stood up, and began a speech to stoke the fires in the hearts of his fellow countrymen.
"Sons of the Reach, I see in your eyes a tempestuous fire of righteousness and courage, a fire that burns brighter than three suns of the Dornish Desert. House Martell once adorned the Sunburst as its coat of arms, and yet its fire was consumed by the thirsty ambitions of the Black Fox.
"Understand that Arin Rada is not only a wily, cunning fox but also a ferocious, tempestuous lion and a slippery snake in one lethal combination. We are mighty lions ourselves, but even lions can die at the hands of the Black Fox. Furthermore, Arin Rada goes above and beyond the talents of even the most seasoned of generals; he is one of the greatest minds of our time, amply demonstrating his strengths and power with the downfall of not only House Martell, the Stepstone Pirates but also dozens of Houses whose histories stretched back to the days of Nymeria's Landing seven centuries ago.
"Understand also that we approach a crossroads in our history - in the history of all the Kingdoms of Westeros! This battle, and several more battles beyond the greatest climax of this war, shall decide the fate of the Reach and Dorne, whether the Dornish shall finally be brought to heel as masters discipline their hounds, or whether the Dornish shall be permitted to continue their raiding ways! Considering the implications of the second possibility, there is only one path forward: Victory!"
"Victory to the Reach!" One noble cried.
"Victory for the victorious dead!" Another exclaimed, thrusting his fist into the air.
"Victory or death!" They chanted, pumping fists and thumping chests.
"Alright, settle down!" Mern ordered, "Settle down, lads."
Once silence reigned over the assembly, Mern gave the order.
"Brandyll, with the death of Theo, I name you second-in-command of the entire expedition, and task you with crushing the last remnants of Dornish resistance [5]."
To that, there was only one answer to give:
"Aye, Sire!" Brandyll saluted, "Heartsbane shall drink deep of their blood 'till she can drink no more!"
[1] War of Roses and Serpents - The official name of the Reach-Dorne War orchestrated by King Mern IX Gardener, last of his line.
[2] Maryse - A Red Pole of the Tian Feng Huang, the Triad equivalent of a Captain. She earned her spurs while donning a disguise as a diligent and dutiful maid, serving guests with utmost elegance and stoicism.
[3] Black Fox - The name others began calling Arin Rada as rumours and news of his horrendous actions committed in the name of the law began to spread. Many feared his cruel punishments, deserving or otherwise.
[4] Tian Feng Huang - A Yi-Tish Triad formed from a motley gang of down-on-their-luck migrants, they grew under Arin's and Sainalia's tutelage and leadership to become the most fearsome organised crime syndicate in all of Dorne before and during Aegon's Conquest.
When Arin expanded House Rada's lands after culling his neighbours, he established the Arsalm Trade Company which oversaw maritime trade between House Rada, Westeros, Essos and even as far as Yi-Ti and Great Moraq. From there, the merchants established strong trade connections that brought back both great wealth and impoverished people looking for a better life.
Due to this, a strong Yi-Tish community presence was established in Dorne, though Arin emphasised not taking in an excessively large number of migrants, citing social and economic problems associated with over-migration. Among those migrants who did not make it were Gongmak Phoq and Tong Bei, ordinary dumpling pressers.
At the time, Arin was dealing with many petty criminals who simply refused to obey Rada law for whatever reason despite the harsher penalties imposed, and so the Triad was created to keep them in line, whether by humiliating, torturing, exploiting or even killing them outright - at times out in the open. It was so effective, criminals did not dare do anything without the Tian Feng Huang's approval.
As of now, they employ both Yi-Tish and Dornish among their number.
[5] At this point, the Reachmen were riding high on a wave of confidence despite losing Theo Tyrell and over two thousand men in a single night, and still believed they had no chance of losing to House Rada
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein