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CHAPTER 225
295 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
A deafening explosion had torn through the steel-reinforced wooden doors, and with a resounding cry, Aermir's forces surged forward, storming into the heart of House Stormcliff's castle. The defenders were already hopelessly outnumbered because of the sea battle; they had lost most of their knights and soldiers and could offer little resistance against the unstoppable juggernaut that was Aermir's vanguard.
The Stormcliff soldiers fought valiantly but were swiftly overwhelmed. With a mere thousand defenders remaining, their depleted ranks were no match for the sheer power and ferocity of Aermir's paladins and Knights of Drasil. The vanguard, now further enhanced by Aermir's spells, cut through the opposition like a relentless force of nature.
Aermir himself had taken a commanding position, and from his elevated vantage point, he summoned his wildfire spirit to lend him its fiery strength. The flames that erupted from his spell became more devastating than ever before, engulfing the opposition in an inferno.
As the battle raged on, it quickly turned into a massacre. In the end, House Stormcliff's defenders were reduced to mere remnants, their once-strong castle now echoing with the victorious shouts of Aermir's forces. The Stormcliff slaughter had been merciless and swift, a testament to the unyielding power of Aermir and his army.
...
The Lord of Ironcrest, faced with the grim reality of House Stormcliff's destruction, made the painful decision to retreat to the more fortified stronghold of House Longthrope. While it was a bitter and humiliating choice to abandon their ancestral home, the specter of death and impending doom left little room for pride or sentiment.
As the Ironcrest forces gathered what remained of their strength and possessions, a somber atmosphere hung over the abandoned castle. The halls that had once echoed with the voices of their forefathers were now empty, the silence a haunting reminder of their retreat.
Yet, the Lord of Ironcrest knew that survival was paramount, and his decision, however painful, was a necessary one. They would regroup within the walls of Longthrope's fortress and prepare for the inevitable confrontation with the relentless Druid and his forces. The shame of abandonment would weigh heavily upon them, but they clung to the hope of redemption in the battles to come.
...
Aermir's forces moved with determination, each step echoing a resolute intent. As they came close to the castle with every step they took, they slammed their shield and released war cries. This scene was birthing terror in the hearts of Ironcrest and Longthrope men. As they approached the formidable gates of the castle, the banners of House Drasil billowed in the wind.
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At the castle gates, Aermir stood tall and commanding in his Druid persona. His voice filled with justice as he proclaimed the crimes of the Sistermen and demanded their surrender. The Druid's voice carried like a thunderclap, resonating through the courtyard and sending shivers down the spines of those who heard.
Within the castle, the Lord of Ironcrest, who now held authority in the absence of the fallen Lord Longthrope, the new lord was only a 10-name-day-old babe, gathered his council to discuss the dire situation. It was a grim assembly, for they knew the strength of the enemy they faced.
Amid the council's somber deliberations, the youngest son of House Longthrope, a man of few words but resolute character, approached the Lord of Ironcrest.
"My Lord, surrender may be our only choice," he said quietly. "The Druid and his forces are too powerful, and our people cannot endure further bloodshed. It is time to put the well-being of Three Sisters ahead of our pride."
The Lord of Ironcrest, with a heavy heart, nodded in agreement. "We will surrender, but not without negotiation. We must seek the best terms possible for the sake of our people."
Their mouths might be talking about "the people," but their primary concern was not the welfare of the Sistermen at large but the preservation of their own noble houses. Facing the overwhelming might of Aermir and his forces, the lords knew that their end might be inevitable. It was clear that the lives of the smallfolk mattered little to them when weighed against the survival of their noble bloodlines. The only path to a peaceful resolution would be one in which their houses were spared.
...
Aermir stood atop the gatehouse, the wind ruffling his cloak made out of moss and leaves as he gazed down at Lord Ironcrest. His voice was carrying great power and shook the bones of Sistermen.
"People of Longthorpe Castle," Aermir began, his voice resonating with a powerful undercurrent, "we do not seek the needless suffering of innocent lives. Our quarrel is not with those who have been caught in the shadow of their rulers. The flames that consumed Stormcliff were a testament to their aggression. We wish not to repeat that tragedy here. Now I ask you, will you surrender, or are you going to pay for your crimes in blood?"
Lord Ironcrest visibly stressed, but a glimmer of hope in his eyes said, "Esteemed Druid, we will surrender and submit to Northern rule, provided that you grant clemency to the innocent lives in here."
They knew they would not be allowed to rule as lords, but they were hoping for their sons to rule. Aermir quickly grasped the intentions of the Sistermen lords and forestalled any further negotiations by raising his hand. Then he continued,
"I do not bargain with pirates, but I do not slay the innocent either," Aermir stated resolutely. "So I will give you one option and one option only: Every male member of your houses will take the black, and female members will marry a Northern noble of my choosing. They will become the new lords of the Longsister, but I will give you one respite; they will take your last names. So the name and lineage of your house will continue through your female members."
The Sistermen lords, disgruntled and skeptical, began to grumble among themselves. However, Aermir put an end to their protests by pounding his wooden staff against the castle gate. The ground quaked slightly beneath them, and the smallfolk and soldiers dropped to their knees in prayer to the Seven.
In an angered tone, Aermir reiterated, "Like I said, I do not bargain with pirates! Do you accept or do you deny my goodwill?"
Lord Ironcrest, who had initially spoken on behalf of the castle, looked at his fellow lords and then back at Aermir. His voice, tinged with defeat, conveyed the house's surrender. "We accept your terms, Lord Druid. The male members of our house will take the black, and our female members shall wed Northern nobles of your choosing."
With this, Aermir had conquered one of the Three Sisters, and the slaughter at the Stormcliff had won him the whole island as he planned. He took all of the male members of each house with him to the next island. He also didn't forget to get half of the food on the island so the good people of Sistermen would know the meaning of hunger that they forced upon Northern people when they raided their grain ships.