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CHAPTER 241

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CHAPTER 241

296 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

As the days stretched into weeks, Lord Grafton, stationed on the Paps, began to feel an unsettling sense of unease. The anticipated arrival of the Northern forces led by the Druid gnawing at him and the absence of communication only deepened the anxiety that hung over the island.

Unable to shake the growing sense that something was amiss, Lord Grafton took action. Ravens were sent seeking answers to the pressing questions that loomed over the Paps. However, as the days passed, the sky remained empty of the familiar black wings returning with news.

Frustration ate Lord Grafton inside out. Seeking a more immediate resolution, he ordered swift sailboats prepared and manned by a handful of trusted sailors. Their mission was to traverse the treacherous waters and reach the main army, hoping to find answers about the Druid or why there were no answers. They even carried the boats to different sites all around the island, away from any harbor or docks.

Days turned into a week, and still, no word came from the sailors sent on this perilous journey. Lord Grafton paced within his command tent; maps and strategic plans spread before him; his mind was restless with worry. The isolation of the Paps, surrounded by the sea and the looming threat of the Druid's orcas, intensified the feeling of being trapped in a suspenseful limbo. He was sure those treacherous beasts were still in those waters.

The Lord longed to take the entire army and return to the mainland to unravel the enigma that kept the Northern forces from reaching the island. Yet, duty held him fast; he couldn't abandon his post. He grappled with the dual burden of safeguarding the island and the growing anxiety about the fate of the main army. The Druid couldn't be that arrogant to attack the mainland. They had an army of 20 thousand, and there were no levies in that army, but he still felt a knot in his stomach.

...

Aermir soared through the open skies, a solitary figure navigating the vast expanse above the Vale. Leaving explicit instructions for his generals to maintain a firm grip on the strategically crucial islands, he ventured deeper into the heart of Vale, a land now ensnared in his calculated plan.

The 10,000-strong army of the Vale is confined within the Paps and isolated by the orcas under Aermir's command. The first part of his plan was successfully executed.

Now, over the fertile lands surrounding the Vale of Arryn, Aermir circled, surveying the lush valleys and towering mountains that sprawled beneath him. These lands were the breadbasket of the Vale, providing sustenance to its people and serving as the economic heart of the region. Aermir's gaze, sharp and calculating, focused on the prize that awaited him – the key to creating chaos in the Vale.

As the Druid descended upon the mountains adjacent to the Vale of Arryn, the fall of Vale and the rise of the First Men loomed on the horizon, he was going to engulf this land in chaos.

Aermir was starting to descend towards the village of Moon Brothers. As he prepared to unleash the second phase of his plan, the Vale lay unsuspecting, unaware of the storm that approached. The Druid's presence, a harbinger of change, cast a shadow over the land, and the stage was set for the unfolding drama that would reshape the destiny of the Vale of Arryn.

...

Two Years Ago

Aermir's keen eyes swept across the rugged landscape, tracing the contours of the Mountains of the Moon. There, nestled in a hidden nook, lay the village of the Moon Brothers—the largest and most formidable of the mountain clans in the Vale. In this secret haven, their way of life unfolded amidst the harsh beauty of the mountainous terrain.

The Moon Brothers, a clan boasting a population of 4,000 souls, held a unique position among the mountain clans. Yet, the true strength of their fighting force numbered 2,000, with 800 of them being women. These clans, scattered across the harsh landscape, each bore its own distinct identity, and Aermir recognized the need to forge unity among them.

As the Druid approached the Moon Brothers' village, he carried with him a vision—a coalition of mountain clans bound not only by their shared ancestry but by a common purpose. It was no small task to unite these fiercely independent clans, each accustomed to settling disputes with the edge of a blade. The Moon Brothers, being the largest, were chosen by Aermir as the linchpin in this delicate alliance.

The history of the mountain clans was riddled with conflicts, both internal and external. Infighting amongst themselves had often eclipsed their clashes with the Vale lords. Aermir knew that to wield the full strength of the mountain clans against their common foes. He needed to broker a fragile peace among these proud and often obstinate people.

The Moon Brothers, with their battle-hardened warriors and resilient women, held sway over them. Aermir's approach required finesse between diplomacy and a show of force because they wouldn't even listen to him if he didn't prove his strength. The Druid sought to inspire them with a sense of shared destiny—a destiny intertwined with the resurgence of the First Men.

The task was far from easy. The Moon Brothers, accustomed to asserting dominance through strength, were not quick to bow to an outsider, even one as powerful as the Druid. Aermir had tread carefully since he came here to create an army. He couldn't just kill until they bowed. He needed every bit of men he could spare. Leveraging a combination of charm, respect for their traditions, and subtle displays of his own formidable powers needed.

Aermir landed right in the middle of the village and took the form of a man. Women and children started to scream. Some of the brave men and women among them charged at him with clubs and battered swords. Aermir created powerful winds and pushed them back,

"Oh, Children of the First Men, I, the Priest of the Old Gods, come to offer you power and freedom against the pest called Valemen. The Old Gods have sent me to answer your prayers."

He slammed his foot to the ground, and the ground shook with force, but Mountain men were unyielding people. They wouldn't bow down with only a few magical tricks. He created a fireball and threw it onto an unfortunate man who was charging at him. The man burst into flames, which put a moment of pause on them, but again, they started to roar and charge at him. 

This time, he called down lightning on two more men. This made them put a stop to it; Aermir opened his arms and looked to the sky,

"Ohh, Almighty Old Gods, Ohh great gods of nature, please forgive those pitiful and lost children; they didn't know better; they didn't. They didn't know they were raising their hand against the Old Gods."

Seeing that lightning was striking people on a clear day put a stop to their assault. All of them started to observe the tree men in front of them. All of them were thinking the same thing: could it be possible that the Old Gods sent him to help them against the Valemen?

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