Prologue

Second Spice War

Lower Rhoyne

600(???) Years BD [Before Doom]

"Ah! The frog fuckers... you must be feeling the right bunch of nitwit, aren't you?", I opened my eyes. The sun shone brightly, like a maiden's smile, like 'her' smile.

And then a shadow loomed over, of a beast threatening to blot out the sun.

"Garin, the Great! The man that made Valyria tremble... that's what the people are calling you. They say he marched with 250,000 Water Wizards and 1,000,000 Rhoynish warriors. Killing 3 Dragons.", hollow praises rang out from that pretty, sister-fucking slaver, his accent heavy cleary not having conversed in the common tongue much. That haunting violet eye carried the similar arrogance of the worm riders I shot out of the sky, "An admirable string of victories. But you still burnt under the yoke of 300 dragons."

"...s.. *cough* Six... I killed six dragons...", rolling on my back I looked straight into his eye, a smile gracing my face looking at his eye patch still bleeding ever so slightly, "...must be dif..*hehe* difficult to count... with one eye..."

"Well aren't you a cheeky bugger.", the smug bastard had the gall to smirk at me, glancing at my limbless shoulder, "We both took a piece of each other, although I would have preferred taking a piece of Nymeria, alas we don't get what we want, do we?"

Seeing that I didn't rise to the insult, the valyrian sheep fucker moved on from this pointless farce, "Garin, Garin, Garin. I'm in something of an impasse with what to do with you. On the one hand, I've come to respect you, albeit begrudgingly, and on the other hand I can't have you be made a Martyr by giving you an honourable death."

Unsheathing what seemed like a Valyrian steel dagger he moved towards his monstrous, bronze-scaled flying pest.

"See the Rhoynar... are still uninformed about the massacre that's occurred, after all, it's only been a few hours since we fought—"

"Nymeria... will flee long before you sheep shaggers reach her... even with your dragons...", I had no hope of rescue and I was fine with that after all even for all my victories I knew we couldn't defeat what we couldn't touch. Bah, Garin the Great led a cannon fodder of a million children of Mother Rhoyne, arrogance is what it was, not some plot of smoke and mirrors.

"I concede it. They would be gone with the wind however, they might also return, roused by the brave sacrifice of their Prince who fought valiantly while the Princess they follow only looks to flee and save her hide.", what load of nonsense, the only ones that stayed behind were young women, children and the old. Every able body, man or woman was in my army, whom these inbred fucks slaughtered.

"...stop with this... farce... be honest. You're bitter that I got the better of you... didn't you... Aemond, the Horse swallower *wheeze*Hahaha*", oh! the satisfaction I felt watching him grind his teeth, finally got rid of that smug face, didn't I? You Dothraki fucked cunt!

"Ohh I'm going to enjoy hearing you scream. You will watch as I have your women be fucked by pigs and men flailed and skinned alive.", rage simmered in my chest as the bastard brought his dagger, bathed in dragon fire, and cauterize my wounds.

I screamed and my vision started to blur, and darken. At that moment I understood, Valyrians truly are God's greatest mistake.

"and then... when the screaming stops... you will have my permission to die."

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P.O.V. Aemond Dagahra

"/They burn like parchment, don't they Grozarg?/", I rubbed the snout of my bronze mount. My gouged eye still pulsing with pain.

Corpses were littered all around the battlefield being devoured by war dragons, like grass being grazed by a herd of sheep.

"*heh* /He did say quite a lot about our Shepard Ancestry./", finding some humour in my analogies I walk towards the other dragon riders rounding up the last batch of survivors.

Walking through the puddles of blood, a young man stood in front of me, "/Lord Dagahra, the bodies of the 3 downed dragons have been recovered./"

Giving a slight nod of acknowledgement, I inched closer to the rounded up survivors, "/Looking a bit green around the gills, young Ysilla./", well who could blame the boy. It was his first time razing lesser men.

"/It's merely... the smell. Nobody told me that the dead shit themselves, by these conditions an outbreak may occur./", that it will but we'll be out of this slaughterhouse in a couple of days, Volon Therys needs to be rebuilt. This war has costed far more than we initially estimated.

Wiping my dagger of the blood of the lesser man, "/What of Chroyane?/", I inquired about the land of origin of our... beloved, Garin the Great.

"/Ashes and bones are all that remain./", a fine reward for the 'Dragon-slayer'.

"Before you stands, of the esteemed House Dagahra, of 40 Families, rider of the Bronze 'Beauty', Bane of the Dothraki, Aemond 'Ysilla'", the Rhoynar gnashed their teeth at announcement of my arrival. Most of them missing limbs or having been burnt here or there.

"Be honoured, for you lesser men breath the same air as the ones who rule the skies.", hearing that, they surely must be cursing our demise. After all, what else could they do.

"Well, top-o-the mornin' to you laddies. How is everybody, in pain and agony I hope.", it really is fun being an abysmal winner. "But fear not, it's gonna get worse, much, much worse."

I guess we can extend our stay here for another day or two.

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Yo,

Just recently watched HotD and got new idea. Give your feedback, suggestions , criticism and ideas.

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