Uruk-Hai

[WARNING!!! Outside interference detected, New Quest: Survive the battle]

Rewards: ????

[Quest Completed: Survive the battle]

Rewards:

x2 Legions of Uruk-Hai

The rewards he got from surviving the battle, while not what he expected, were still quite good. The Uruk-Hai were brutal warriors of Middle-earth, and the strongest breed of Orc. And he had two legions of them which numbered 10,000 total Uruk-Hai, 5,000 per legion.

He didn't summon them immediately but waited because this would be the first time in which he would summon an Orc type unit from another world. He didn't know how the Dothraki would act, though he was sure that if he summoned them in front of the Dothraki, then they might start to see him as a god.

That's when an idea came into this mind. He could summon the Urak-Hai in front of the Dothraki while claiming that they were powerful warriors sent by the Great Stallion himself to aid them in their conquest of the other Khalasars.

He had used the Great Stallion to increase his authority amongst the Dothraki before, and now that he was blessed, he was sure that using his name again would not be a problem or might even prove to be extremely successful.

So, within his camp, he gathered everybody in one location and started to tell them about how the Great Stallion had given them a gift for their efforts.

Maximus had already talked to Olorin about summoning the Urak-Hai since he knew that he had a history with them. Olorin was fine with it, as long as the Urah-Hai obeyed their orders, then he would not have a problem. He then explained how he didn't dislike the Urak-Hai but the people whom they often served and fought for.

With that settled Maximus stood in front of the assembled crowd of Dothraki, his voice echoing throughout the camp as he told tales of the Great Stallion's favor. The murmur amongst the crowd grew even louder as his story reached its climax.

"And so," Maximus announced, his voice carrying a strong sense of authority, "the Great Stallion, pleased with our valor and courage in battle, has blessed us with warriors as fierce as the tempest, as brutal as the desert storm. Warriors that will send our enemies running in fear. Warriors that will make us unstoppable."

The anticipation in the crowd was tangible. Maximus turned away from the crowd and began summoning the two legions of Urak-Hai from the system.

The ground trembled beneath their feet as from out of thin air two legions of Uruk-Hai emerged, ten thousand strong. Their armor glinted menacingly under the sun and their cruel swords were drawn ready for battle.

An awed silence swept through the Dothraki crowd before erupting into triumphant cheers. They raised their arakhs high into the sky, their shouts echoing throughout the plains. The sight of these brutal orc warriors materializing from thin air had left them in awe of Maximus, reinforcing the belief that he was indeed a god-chosen leader.

Maximus stood proudly, watching as his new Uruk-Hai legions integrated with his Dothraki warriors. The Dothraki, once filled with wary curiosity, now approached the Uruk-Hai without fear, eager to meet these new allies granted by the Great Stallion himself.

The Uruk-Hai, for their part followed Maximus's commands, bowing in fealty. Their deep guttural voices echoed through the camp as they chanted their loyalty.

"Now we march," Maximus declared. "We march toward victory!"

And so, they did. With an army composed of powerful Dothraki riders and the Urak-Hai orcs from Mordor, Maximus led them towards their next battle.

———

Meanwhile near the city of Heaven's Reach, Alexander had just arrived his 300 mercenary warriors plus some additional warriors who had joined them making the total force around 500.

At first, they met with a group of Dothraki riders, trying to figure out what army dared to approach their city. But Eonwe had recognized who Alexander was and told the Dothraki to stand down.

Eonwe greeted him and welcomed him to the grand city that their Lord planned to build while allowing the 500 warriors under Alexander's command to enter the city.

As Alexander and his men made their way into the city, they were awestruck by the thousands of people who were hard at work building what they saw was going to be a massive city. He could already see people digging the outline of what he knew would probably be the wall, while on the inside he could already see foundations for houses being built.

"Welcome to our new home," Eonwe announced, spreading his arms wide as if he was presenting the city himself. "Our Lord has named it 'Heaven's Reach', because it will represent something not of this world."

Alexander nodded in curiosity. He knew that his Lord aimed high, but he hadn't imagined a city this magnificent. As he walked through the bustling city, he saw children playing some games with each other, and elderly quietly resting in the shaded areas of the city.

———

In Westeros, things were starting to heat up in the war. The Starks of Winterfell, under the new leadership of Eddard, allied themselves with Jon Arryn of the Vale and Robert Baratheon of Storm's End. Eddard, consumed by grief and anger over his father and brother's brutal deaths and Lyanna's disappearance, was ready for battle.

His strength and motivation to get revenge for his brother and father, and find his sister had echoed throughout the North, rallying his people behind him.

Robert Baratheon, a man renowned for his power and ferocity in battle, cried out for justice. His love for Lyanna Stark had been well known, the prince's abduction of her was not just a theft but a personal affront to him. He demanded retribution for the wrongs inflicted upon his betrothed and her family.

Jon Arryn, known for his wisdom and leadership became a beacon of hope among his men. It was under his guidance that the rebellion truly took shape.

In contrast to these newly formed alliances, Tywin Lannister continued to observe from Casterly Rock, refusing to declare an alliance with either side. The cunning old lion kept his cards close to his chest, his calculating eyes missing nothing of the unfolding drama.

When the time was right, he would strike.