Shadows at Dawn

Highgarden, seat of House Tyrell, sprawled across rolling fields beneath its looming stone walls. The outermost bailey was large enough to host a tournament, enclosed by grey walls eighty feet high adorned with ornate carvings of roses, vines and lions. Towers loomed at each corner, banners streaming from their balconies.

The envoy from Azazel's army approached the gates alone, flanked by two outriders bearing Azazel's black banner - a night-dark field with a blood-red flame, twisting and coiling as if alive.

The envoy himself was a solemn man, clad in travel-stained leathers beneath a cloak stitched with the same fiery sigil. He carried no visible weapons yet carried himself with a proud, practiced ease.

The captain of Highgarden's guards eyed the envoy suspiciously as he called up:

"I come from the camp of Azazel, King of the West! I bear a message for the Lords of the Reach!"

The captain sneered "You demand the Lords of the Reach submit to some brigand calling himself 'king'? Leave now, cutthroat, before I have you escorted in chains!"

The envoy stiffened at the insult but remained polite. "I must deliver my king's message. Please, escort me to the lords' council and I shall speak my piece."

The captain considered for a moment then called down "Very well. But speak out of turn and you'll lose that piece, brigand's dog!"

The gates opened and two armored guards escorted the envoy into Highgarden's bailey towards the great hall where the Reach lords debated within.

As they entered, the guards informed the lords:

"My lords, an envoy from Azazel awaits your audience."

The envoy who entered took them by surprise with his graceful manner and air of power.

The envoy declared "Azazel, rightful King of Westeros, demands you bend the knee."

The envoy spoke of Azazel's arcane powers and hidden realms, promising dark sorcery and fallen hosts.

Yet the lords dismissed Azazel's claims, acknowledging Robert Baratheon as their one true king.

Lord Tarly said "Tell your master the Reach stands by the true king. Now leave before we show you steel and sunrise."

The envoy departed, the aura of power around him seeming to dim.

The lords broke into grim smiles of relief. Madness spoke through the envoy's promises -some brigand believing himself a king through dark magic and deception.

But they knew Azazel would still prove a threat.Lord Rowan sighed "Mad or not, this 'king' gathers an army that marches on the Reach."

Lord Tarly stood firm. "If Azazel coveted their lands, they must meet him in battle and reveal the folly of his ambitions."

His words rang with grim practicality - Azazel may seem mad, yet his forces threatened open warfare. The envoy's lofty claims would soon be tested in blood and steel.

Lord Mace Tyrell's face hardened. "Send ravens at once. Inform King Robert that a bandit army led by an imposter calling himself Azazel marches on the Reach."

The maester hurried to comply, writing that this 'Azazel' appeared mad yet his forces grew larger by the day.

The envoy returned to Azazel's camp with ill news. Cold wrath darkened Azazel's face."Fools!" Azazel spat. He commanded his awaiting army: "Gather your blades. We march at dawn to claim the Reach!"

The sunrise revealed two armies facing each other across a valley. The Reach host shone with armor raised high.

But Azazel's camp hid secrets, Azazel swept his chilling gaze across the Reach host, hungering to unleash his hidden might.

"Is that all this false king can muster?" Lord Redwyne scoffed. "Our horses outnumber his wretched foot!"

The envoy returned one final time, saying: "My king grows impatient. This is your last chance. Submit now, or face his wrath in battle!"

Lord Tarly's face hardened. "Tell Azazel we face him gladly. His threats cannot move us. The Reach stands by King Robert!"

The envoy departed. Azazel spat "So be it! Move forward my armies. Break these fools who defy their rightful king! Their constant refusal has cost them dearly. Now they face annihilation for their arrogance."

Azazel's army began to march. The Reach army readied for battle, expecting a hard fight ahead.

The golden roses of House Tyrell snap fiercely in the wind, rising defiantly above a sea of green banners. The blossoms seem aglow, their petals turned fiery by the light of dawn.

Below, the banners of every house in the Reach swell like a verdant tide. Honeysuckle blossoms flutter fiercely beside rose, apple and oak. Their colors blend into an aura of loyal, martial strength.

The sigils shine brightly from the banners of approaching armies, thousands of knights riding beneath their House symbols. Lances gleam, blades are honed and shields polished until the devices upon them burst into brilliant life.

The banners are raised high as warhorns sound, stirring the warriors' blood. The great roses of House Tyrell bring thoughts of home and hearth, wife and children - worth fighting and dying for.

The knights sing the praises of their houses as they ride, taking strength from the familiar sigils that have flown above them since birth. They feel the pride and honor of their ancestors welling within them, eager to add new feats of bravery to the stories beneath those banners.

As the Reach army marches forth beneath the golden roses and green blossoms, there is a fierce joy in their hearts. They go to battle for the luxury and beauty their lands offer, defended by courage, loyalty and sacrifice.

The banners streaming above them carry the hopes of the Reach - that they will emerge victorious, their sigils flying proudly over a hard-won field of glory.

Lord Tarly mounted his horse and addressed the Reach forces:"We face these invaders with honor! Our cause is just, our blades are sharp and our shields burn gold in the sunlight! We fight for King Robert and the honor of the Reach!"

Lord Tarly voice boomed ."For the Reach!" His army echoed his call, laughing at Azazel's defiance.

Azazel's black banners stream above his army like dark omen ravens, flying towards battle with sinister purpose.The cruel grace of Azazel's carved likeness seems magnified as the banners flutter in the air, urging his forces forward.

The broken perfection of Azazel's smile takes on a razor-edge as drumbeats sound, hinting at his cruel delight in the brutal work to come. His flowing hair seems filled with knots and snarls, ready to entangle the unwary.

The high,arched brows and angular features of Azazel's sigil become sharp blades, ready to slice through any who oppose him.His pale, piercing eyes survey his forces with cold calculation, weighing their worth as tools of war.

The banners wave above an army marching with frenzied purpose, thirsting for conquest and bloodshed at Azazel's command. They take strength from the deception and perfection embodied by their leader's sigil, embracing the corrupted traits it represents.

As his forces march to battle filled with zeal for their devious king, Azazel's banners fly highest of all. They spread their black wings over the army, cloaking them in shadows as they go forth to conquest in the name of Azazel's hollow,mirthless grace and perfection of malice.

The banners' stern promise of brutal victory fills the soldiers' hearts with dark fervor as they march beneath Azazel's sigil of corruption and deceit, headed towards bloody revelation on the battlefield ahead.

Azazel addressed his gathered forces, kingly wrath darkening his face:"My loyal followers, for too long we have remained in the shadows! For too long we have been called brigands, outlaws and cutthroats!"

The forces growled their assent.

Azazel continued:"Today we step into the light! Today we show the so called lords of the Reach that a new order has risen!"

The army roared and howled, thumping their weapons and stamping their feet.

Azazel raised his hands and the armies fell silent."Once we crush these cowardly lords, I shall be crowned king over all the Reach! And you, my loyal followers, shall be rewarded for your fervor and loyalty!"

The forces shouted and cheered.

Azazel spoke again."Today you shall abandon your outlaw shells and rise as my loyal subjects! March now into battle with honor, fight with fury and you shall earn a place at my side as we build a new kingdom from the ashes of the old!"

The army roared, hungering for battle and blood.

Azazel's voice rose above the din."When this field runs red with the blood of our enemies, the Reach will remember this day as the moment a new era dawned! This day we will usher in a new world order - with me, Azazel your rightful king, seated upon a throne of bones and ashes!"

The forces howled and thirsted for battle, eyes burning with zeal and fervor for their king.

Azazel drew his blade."Now march! Show no mercy, give no quarter! March now and fight with fearsome wrath - for today you shall birth a new age of darkness upon these lands!"

The army charged with terrible wrath, screaming praise for their fearsome king. They hungered to fight with honor for the chance to build a new kingdom arisen from blood and fire.

Azazel grinned slyly as the two armies faced off, bristling with courage yet rife with doubt. The air held its breath.

Azazel's mysteries would remain secrets no longer - now revealed in blood and steel across that valley, leaving's only one side standing.