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The Water Runs Red 4b

The Water Runs Red 4b

As the former pirate – one of the many who’d just bent the knee to me after my taking of the port – opened the door to the building, I considered how the battle had gone.

On the whole, it had been successful as the port and both galleys had been taken relatively intact. Around ninety men in the port had bent the knee, the majority surrendering not long after I killed my fifth pirate. So far the count of the dead stood at nearly eighty, with about three of every four being a pirate in the port. The loss of around two dozen of the men I’d attacked with was less than ideal, but as only one of those who’d died had been a sellsword – one who’d been with me since the taking of Dustspear – it wasn’t a huge overall loss.

With the new men under my command, I nominally had crew for the two captured galleys, meaning the option to abandon the port and take everything of value – including the handful of slaves so far discovered – was on the table. That wasn’t something I felt I’d have to do, as based on my recon flights over the bay, Rakakz had about the same number of men left as I did in this port. Even if the newest men to bend the knee weren’t loyal, Jaeronos was a day at most away with nearly two hundred more men – most more reliable than the rabble here. That would grant me overwhelming numbers to engage Rakakz while not leaving this port and the fleet undefended from any raids by Allerion, The Lotus Prince or another pirate.

I didn’t expect either to attack as, from what I’d seen before controlling the gull attack on the watchtower, Allerion had no vessels in range to attack with, while the two galleys baring the green sails of the Lotus Prince were far enough away that by the time they reported back to their lord, I’d have too many ships here to make anything beyond an all-out assault viable.

Regarding the Lotus Prince, he and Salladhor Saan were two of the pirate lords I felt might be reliable enough to ally with. Or at the very least, reach an agreement to not attack each other. Setting that plan into action would have to wait until after Rakakz was at my feet: either dead or on his knees.

“This way, mi’lord,” the pirate who’d opened the door said, gesturing for me to enter. “What you asked about is in here.” The pirate who had volunteered that this was the port commander’s office – well former commander as the man had, amusingly, been struck down by my squires – wasn’t one I felt was even remotely trustworthy. Offering up everything he knew within minutes of bending the knee made clear he was nothing more than lickspittle seeking reward. The man had been searched extremely carefully before I’d allowed him to lead me and others to the commander’s office.

I glared at the man, my shield still attached to my arm and the other hand resting on the hilt of a sheathed Red Rain. The gesture had the pirate scurrying back, fear raging in his gaze. Secure that he wasn’t going to try anything as I crossed the threshold, I entered the building.

Inside was a large room, one that reminded me of my solar in Northpoint though with far less impressive furniture and decoration. Given this office was only for a port commander and not a pirate lord, that made sense. What I was pleased to see, as my eyes adjusted to the limited amount of light entering the room, was that there was a decent-sized desk with a large chair behind it, along with a bookcase that held a handful of tomes. There was a table in one corner with three tables around and on the opposite side of the room from the desk was a bed. However, given the rather rank smell coming from there, I knew I’d sleep on the Kraken and that those sheets would be taken away and either burnt – which might be the best choice – or used to repair the sails of any of my fleet in-port.

I turned back to the door, watching as my squires moved past the pirate. “Get in here,” I ordered the man. He glanced at Horden, who along with two of my men was acting as my escort. “Now!” The pirate flinched at the growl I attached to my command and scurried inside the room. “You said there were missives?”

“Yes, mi’lord.” The pirate pointed at the desk. “In there.” This pirate was one of the few to speak the Common tongue in the port, which might be why he offered up the information about the former commander’s office and his contact with Rakakz before others could. His accent meant unless I was badly mistaken, that he’d come from Tyrosh originally.

While my Valyrian – both High and Bastardised – was more than sufficient, forcing the man and the others who’d bent the knee to speak to me in Common made clear, if the recent battle failed to do so, that I was in command. That these men served me and would do as I wished. When combined with my display of Fire Magic in battle, I hoped my actions would ensure that, at least until he was dealt with, these men feared me more than Rakakz. At least until the rather ballsy plan I was quickly formulating in my head was enacted.

Reaching the desk, I pulled open the first drawer and found a pile of papers crammed inside. Getting them out was more of a struggle than I would have liked, thanks to the gauntlets making such tasks a chore. Eventually, I managed to spread the papers across the desk. Most were in poor condition, worn and stained, but two distinct sets of handwriting stood out. I could make out enough to realise these were communications between Rakakz and the commander—information not meant for the average pirate's eyes.

I glanced over at the pirate who had brought me here. "My thanks. Now get out." He blinked, clearly startled by my blunt dismissal.

"Are you deaf as well as dumb?" I asked, my tone sharp as I lifted a hand from the documents, summoning a fireball to hover over my gauntleted palm. "Get out!"

The pirate stumbled back, tripping over himself and landing in a heap on the floor. "F-forgive me," he whimpered, his voice shaking. Horden, standing nearby, rolled his eyes at the pitiful display.

The pirate shifted, scrambling to his knees as if about to start praying.

“If you so much as utter a single word tied to R’hllor, I will personally send you to meet the fool!” I snapped. I had about fifty followers of the Lord of Light among my ranks, though after the bloodshed further south, that number had dwindled. I was not keen on adding any more. Whenever one of them was identified, I threw them into the front lines, hoping they would die before they could infect the rest of my men with their deranged beliefs. The last thing I needed was rumours spreading that I was Azor Ahai, drawing attention from the temples in Essos. The longer those fanatics remained ignorant of who I was and what I could do, the more time I had to enact my plans. The later I had to deal with a fleet from Volantis—or one of the other Free Cities, Braavos aside—the better.

The pirate turned, and while still on his hands and knees, scampered from the building. For a moment, I thought Horden might kick him to help him on his way, but the captain of the Kraken merely moved back, as if disgusted by the man at his feet.

Horden turned to me, his eyes glancing at the fireball I had floating above my palm. He didn’t say anything about it, but I knew he, like many, was uncertain about how to regard my magic. At least beyond the fact that it helped me win battles quicker and thus increased their odds of survival. When combined with the fact I’d only lost one battle – the ambush in The Whores and which I’d escaped with the loss of only one ship of the six I’d had when the trap had been sprung – and the fact I paid them better than they’d earned as simple pirates, meaning that for now, I had their support. In time, I planned to turn their support to me through fear and coin into servitude and loyalty, but for now coin, fear, and winning battles would suffice.

Horden pulled the door closed, the men with him already instructed to remain outside as guards while I was inside. "Come closer," I said, waving over my squires.

Trystane moved gingerly, the result of the commander striking him on the shoulder with a hammer. The blow had dented his pauldron, which would make removing it difficult, but since he still had motion in the arm, he seemed otherwise fine. I would keep an eye on him for the next few days to ensure that the lack of pain was not just due to adrenaline, but I believed he would be fine.

"First, well done to both of you. You fought well against men bigger, stronger, and more experienced than you." The pair nodded, their faces still covered by their helms, which offered more protection than the one I wore. "Also, Edric, thank you for protecting Trystane."

The heir to Starfall puffed out his chest at the praise, while Trystane turned to him. When the port commander had dented Trystane's armour and driven him to the dirt, Edric had rushed forward, his blade slipping into the commander's back. The commander had knocked Edric back with an arm, but in doing so, had left his front exposed. Trystane had finished the man off by driving his blade up into the pirate's stomach. The blood and entrails that spilt from the wound had stained Trystane's surcoat, but I had already told him and Edric—who bore the blood of another pirate from the battle on his surcoat—that such marks were signs of their prowess. Once back in Northpoint, I would want the surcoats cleaned, but for now, they could wear their battle marks with honour.

As the pair approached, both having the sense to bring chairs from the table toward the desk, I settled into the chair already there. "How are you feeling?" I asked Trystane, working to remove my gauntlets. I needed my hands free for what I planned to do.

"I... I am well, My Lord," he replied as they reached the other side of the desk.

"What have I said about titles when we are alone?" I gently teased, focusing on getting my right gauntlet off after freeing my left hand.

"Sorry, My... Cregan."

I chuckled at his response. Getting the pair to break from the rules they had spent years learning as nobles was a challenge, but I wanted them to view me less as their knight and more as their friend, and in many ways, their older brother. In formal settings, honorifics were fine, but in private, I had no need to feed my ego by having the heir to Starfall and a Prince of Dorne call me Lord.

"If anything hurts later today or even tomorrow, you will tell me immediately." Trystane nodded. "That goes for you as well, Edric."

"Yes, cousin."

"Good. Now, with the port taken, perhaps you might offer suggestions for what we should do next?" I placed the second gauntlet on the desk and flexed my fingers, rolling my hands and wrists. Though my armour allowed for full movement, it was always a relief to be free of it.

As the pair considered my words I looked down at the missives between Rakakz and his commander, wanting to try and get a read on the pirate lord. I already knew what my next step would be, but knowing more about the Gilded Hand would be useful, and having my squires offer suggestions would help with their education.

There was more to being a knight than simply being good at fighting. Particularly for trueborn sons of old and important Houses. While I was a bastard, Oberyn had taught me – and Daemon as well – as if we were trueborn. At the time, I’d hated the political lessons, finding the intrigues of the Game annoying at best, but I’d known even then that I needed to know about it. Now, before I had to truly draw on those lessons, I could use them to teach the pair before me.

“We need to check the defences of the port and secure them,” Edric offered confidently after about half a minute. “The Gilded Hand will soon know of you taking this port. In his place, he will be forced to move to retake it, otherwise, his men might consider him weak.”

“An accurate assessment,” I replied, pleased with my cousin’s words. “Trystane?”

“Edric is right, My… Cregan.” I chuckled at Trystane struggling to break from formality. “However, we cannot expect the men who just surrendered to stand and fight against Rakakz. They would have friends amongst his ranks, and would likely turn their cloaks on you in battle. Because of that, I think it wise that we keep the men we arrived with near the galleys. That way, if the new men do turn, we have the greatest chance to escape. And it means once Ser Jaeronos arrives, your forces will be able to face off with the new men.”

The last I saw he’d split his forces. Two galleys had stopped at the southern port, no doubt to take anything of value. The Howl and the remaining galley continued onward and provided the weather holds, they should be here by noon tomorrow.

The pair took in my words, considering the extra information. “What are we to do?” Edric asked, leaning forward and placing his gauntlet-wearing hands on the desk. “Fortify the defences, remain near the ships for safety, or both?”

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“Both,” I replied as I pulled out the quill and inkwell the commander had stored in the bottom drawer. Already a mainly empty sheet of paper had been selected from the pile. “However, there is a path we can take that if it even partially works, lowers the chances of battle before Jaeronos arrives considerably. Which is why I need these.” I pointed at the inkwell and sheet of paper I’d pulled from the missives.

My squires looked at the objects, and I knew both were frowning even as I dipped the quill into the ink and used that to score out the short series of messages at the top of the paper.

“You…” I paused just before adding new ink to the quill as Trystane spoke up. “You intend to inform him you have taken the port?”

“Along with taking the southern port, yes that is my intention,” I smirked at the pair, dipping the quill into the ink. “The question I want you to answer is why?”

I began writing my missive, the words and tone set after a quick review of Rakakz’s missives with this port’s former commander. This was a risk, but a calculated one that I felt had good odds to at the very least, weaken Rakakz’ forces before we moved to take the bay port.

“You want him to attack. Particularly tomorrow around when Ser Jaeronos arrives.”

I shrugged at Edric’s reasoning as I continued to write. “Perhaps.”

“What if he chooses to fortify his position?” The heir to Starfall continued. “Will that not make taking the final port more troublesome?”

"It would, and that is one outcome of my letter. However, there is perhaps one thing you are forgetting about our opponents." I looked up from the paper, smirking wickedly at my squires. "They are pirates. When faced with overwhelming odds, such men generally take one of two paths. Either they fight in the hope they might escape the battle, or they run and find safe harbour elsewhere. The only place that exists is with Allerion, and given how long the three pirate lords on Redwater have been in conflict, it is unlikely Allerion would take any man from Rakakz into his service. Going any further is folly in longboats, especially for sailors who have spent most of their time only moving around the bay." I brought the quill back to the paper, having reapplied ink to it. "That means the men in the bay port, either with Rakakz's support or without, have one clear choice."

"You expect them to bend the knee?"

Trystane's tone was a little higher, revealing his shock at what I was aiming for. "I do not know if they will," I replied, not lifting my focus from the paper. "Or at least not Rakakz. However, his men are another matter. When word reaches them that not only have I taken both the eastern ports of their lord, but that Vaegon's holdings and men are under my banner, they will want to survive what is coming. The best way to achieve that is to bend the knee."

"What about Rakakz?"

I shrugged again. "There are two ways I can see things going for him. Either he will see which way the wind is blowing and bend the knee to save his skin. In that case, I would accept him into my forces but trust him half as far as your children could throw him..."

"We do not have children!" Edric complained, prompting me to point the quill at him, spilling some ink on the desk.

"Exactly." I dipped the quill in the inkpot once more. "Or, and this, in my opinion, is the more likely outcome, he will have to face a potential mutiny. Either he puts it down, costing him men in the process, or the men take him out for us and then surrender the port to me."

"If they betray their lord, they cannot be trusted!"

"No, Edric, they cannot. However, the same is true of the majority of the men now fighting for me. Those who bend the knee after the Grim Prince fell have, so far, proven capable, but even there I have reservations. In time, I hope to ensure their loyalty—at least those who survive my coming battles—beyond coin, but for now, the promise of better pay than they make as pirates will have to suffice."

In my former life, if I had been told I had to have pirates obey my commands to achieve a goal, I would have questioned the sanity of the men giving those orders. Placing any trust in such scum only resulted in death, and it was why military policy was against using former enemies as cannon fodder in high-risk operations.

In this new life, such ideals—even when espoused by former operators such as myself—were the reserve of high-minded fools with ideas about honour that only existed in fables. Or in men who were among the first to die in war because of their ideals. War was a bloody mess, especially when one had to kill the enemy up close and personal, and the more bodies one had on their side, the more flesh there was to distract those trying to kill them from getting in a lucky strike.

"Why would Rakakz detail your offer to his men?"

I smiled, pleased to see Trystane spot the issue in what I had said. "If the letter was sent directly to him, then I would assume he would not. However, to ensure that my offer is known to the men under Rakakz's command, six of my most recent followers will deliver the letter. All will know the contents and be shown Jaeronos' approaching ships."

"Will they believe you?"

"I have no idea," I replied with another shrug. "However, they will not stay quiet about what happened here, and they have little reason to believe I am lying about taking the south of Redwater. Deciding what to do about both the message and the men delivering it will cost Rakakz time; and the more he wastes dealing with my offer, the less time we have to fear an attack before Jaeronos arrives with reinforcements."

"How will you know what he decides to do?"

"Rian is already flying above the bay port. Once I have prepared new gulls, I will help with that watch. While words will not reach the eyes of the birds, they see everything that happens in the open below, so there is almost no move Rakakz can make that I will not be aware of before it becomes an issue."

Even as I finished the letter, I was not expecting Rakakz to bend the knee. The man had ruled as a lord for nearly a decade on Redwater. He had fought tooth and nail against Vaegon and Allerion to hold that territory or expand it. The idea he would simply give up when faced with a new external overwhelming force and having lost two of his three holdings was slim. However, as I had told the squires, dealing with my offer and the men carrying it would cost him time. That, as much as he might not realise it until the offer was given, was his most precious commodity.

Once Jaeronos was here and my forces were bolstered, I would send a message via gull to Daemon and Bronn. What they would be ordered to do, beyond moving their men and ships to the bay, was not set yet, but already the next stage of my assault on Redwater was forming in my mind. The attacks were not progressing as quickly as with Dustspear or The Whores, but the basic principle of speed and surprise was working remarkably well. Eventually, it would cease to be an option, but as the saying went, no matter how simple or stupid a plan might appear, if it worked, there was no need to change it.

Of course, before Allerion could be targeted for swift strikes, Rakakz and his final port had to fall. All I could hope was that the cost in manpower to achieve that was as low as possible. I would need every man and ship I had to take Allerion out in the manner I was considering.

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The day after taking the port, I stood at the edge of the dock, watching as the Coral Howl and its escort galley closed the final distance between us. Jaeronos had made good time as the ships were here not long after I’d had my breakfast, though thankfully the sun was high enough that looking at my approaching ships didn’t require me to squint. Those reinforcements would be useful as, via Rian and the gulls, I’d yet to see a response from Rakakz. Or at least one involving leaving his remaining port.

The six men who I’d selected at random had left yesterday escorted part of the way by an equal number of men who had come with me. That group had stopped at the watchtower, taking up the position with orders to remain until a significant force left the bay port. The six I’d sent back to Rakakz had known the contents of my letter, that Jaeronos was arriving with reinforcements – something I’d proven via my Myrish Eye – and that I could ignite my blade.

They’d arrived before sunset, and via Rian, I’d watched as they were led to the central building near the docks, and taken inside. About an hour later they had emerged and been left to move freely around the port. That meant either Rakakz didn’t know they knew what my letter said, or he was aware but had made the odd choice to not limit control of information. From above, I’d watched where the men had gone, specifically into which buildings they’d headed before sunset. Those had to be barracks, and along with Rakakz’s command post, were priority targets if I had to assault the port.

Before settling down for the evening, I’d had a letter delivered to Dameon via gull detailing my intentions for him, Bronn, and the men at the south of the island. They were to take all but a handful of men to the bay port formerly controlled by Vaegon. The ships would travel around the coast to that port as well, save for the Pride of Saltbrook and one galley.

Those two would take everything bar food and drink from Vaegon’s ports, along with the freed slaves, back to Northpoint. Once there, the ships were to return along with either the Windchaser or Ilaerah’s Luck and move to the island in Redwater Bay. By the time the transports arrived, I hoped to have taken most, if not all of Allerion’s ports and would need the ships to transport my haul of goods and men back to Northpoint.

From the bay port, Daemon would command nine galleys and four longboats, however, I wasn’t sure yet if they would move to attack Rakakz’s remaining port or move beyond to target Allerion’s holdings. That would be detailed in another letter, but only after I was sure of Rakakz’s response to my offer. In preparation for whatever I planned, Daemon was to take the entire fleet, and all but a handful of men, to the bay island. They weren’t, however, to land there.

According to those formerly loyal to Vaegon and Rakakz, the island was cursed. Normally, I’d not place any importance on such a thing, but given I knew that some of the worst monsters of legends were real, I wasn’t going to risk losing my men on the chance there was more to the stories than just the words of former pirates.

From their gathering point at the island, the plan for Daemon would depend on what Rakakz and his men did. I expected a response by the end of today or early tomorrow, but until then, I, and by extension my men spread across the island, were in a holding pattern. However, such things could wait, and I moved down the dock as the first mooring lines were tossed from the Howl.

By the time I reached the ship, the ramp had already been deployed and Jaeronos was marching down it, a wide smile on his face.

“About time you got here,” I challenged jovially as we clasped arms.

The large Essosi laughed deeply. “Unlike some, we had to stay and mop up Rakakz’s fleet after the ambush, which worked perfectly by the way. Then we needed to slow down and secure the other port. However, I suspect you already know that.”

“I saw the battle unfold,” I replied as we broke the arm-clasp, “however, I did not hang around or use Ymir to get details. My focus was on this place and Rakakz’s movements.”

We turned and began moving down the dock as other men on the Howl began to disembark. “For the record, all six galleys were taken. One suffered minor damage to its sails from an errant bolt, and two others needed minor repairs to their hulls after beaching themselves during the attack. All that should be fixed by now, and along with most of the men onboard those galleys bending the knee, await your orders.”

“I sent a gull to Daemon last night,” I said, drawing another laugh from the Essosi.

“You and your beasts,” he said, slapping my back hard enough that my next step was a longer stride than normal. “An unusual ability, but one that has served us well on this campaign. This is what? Half the ports on the island are under our control?”

“Four of nine. On the voyage here I discovered a fifth port under Allerion’s control. a minor one, but it does mean some changes to the plans I had for engaging the last pirate lord of Redwater." As we reached the end of the docks, a group of three men – all having joined by force on this island – stopped and bowed. “Fucking R’hllor… That cunt can kiss my arse.”

Jaeronos chortled loudly. “That, my friend, I would pay greatly to see. The reaction of the High Priest and his flock would be priceless as you bent their holy flames to your will.”

“Ignoring that I suspect they can do what I can with magic, at least where it concerns fire, I would be more concerned about their slave legions.”

“Yes, the Fiery Hand are a dangerous lot. More for their devotion to R’hllor than skill I say. The only upside is that there are only ever a thousand of them.”

“A mistake, but one I hope they never correct,” I muttered as we moved into the port proper. Around us, the men were working on preparing the last of the loot for transport to the Howl. While I hoped we wouldn’t be forced to abandon the port before I was ready, until Rakakz was dealt with, I wanted anything of value on my ships.

That included not just coins, gems, and jewellery from across the Narrow Sea, but the nearly two dozen slaves we’d found in the port. Like those found in Vaegon’s former ports, these people had been captives for so long that their minds were shattered. While I knew they’d never be capable of living truly free lives again, I intended for them to serve on Northpoint, and be paid accordingly for their service.

“On that, we agree. As for them being able to control the flames of their god, to do that each of them, even the High Priest appeared to need to use chants to carry out their parlour tricks. You need not do that, nor can I recall any of them creating works of art with fire.”

“They likely can do what I do, and without the chants. However, they choose not to as it projects the aura that it is their fucked-up deity that is shaping the flames and not them. That helps ensure the fealty of the sheep that follow them, and makes the more deranged elements of their faith acceptable.”

Jaeronos sighed deeply and shook his head. “Yes, that. Abhorrent practice, but one the ruling families, including mine, allow. Not because we worship the Lord of Light – I myself place my faith in the Gods of Old Valyria – but because slaves outnumber the freemen by around five to one. Even in the Old Volantis, protected as we are by the Black Walls, around half the slaves bore the mark of R’hllor.”

“Shame there be no dragons to teach R’hllor’s minions the truth of who controls fire.”

Jaeronos laughed at the image and slapped my back again. This time, however, I was ready and didn’t stumble forward. “And that is another thing I would pay to see. Just so long as I was nowhere near the dragon's maw.” He looked around and leaned closer. “Hells, if any man could bring a dragon back, I suspect my father and the heads of most of the Tigers would offer up every female in their family to such a man.”

“I like you Jae, but I do not think I want to call you brother,” I retorted, drawing another booming laugh from the man. “Besides, my bed, when I have time to use it, is already full.”

“True. Very True. Thankfully for you, the last I heard, all my sisters are married to other nobles, meaning you would have to fight their husbands and fathers for their hands.” His expression soured and he snorted as we neared the port commander’s office. “Though for a few of them, I may stand at your side in such a fight.”

“Good to know, though I hope not to have to face the legions of Volantis for a long arse time. Preferably never.” Jaeronos nodded in agreement. “Now come,” I continued as I pushed open the door to the office I’d taken over. “While there may be little wine of quality, the former commander has a decent supply of rum.”

“Thank the Gods, and your gifts, for that.”

I chuckled as we stepped inside the office. My squires opened their eyes, the pair having been meditating on the floor. “Ser Jaeronos,” Trystane said as the pair stood, “it is good to see you again.”

“You two, young ones. But should you not get back to your studies?”

“Head to my cabin on the Kraken,” I offered, knowing it was easier to focus on whatever internal magic one had in a quieter location where they’d not be disturbed. That was why they generally used this office as I’d spent most of the time since taking the port elsewhere, and their studying inside didn’t draw too many questions.

The pair nodded and moved toward the door while I headed over to the small stash of rum I’d mentioned as I’d entered. “I understand that the Martells have links to the Rhoynar, but what chance does the Dayne boy have to wield magic?”

I turned to Jaeronos, a bottle in each hand and gestured toward the desk. “While skinchanging came from my father, the rest likely did not. That suggests my mother's house has some capacity for magic. I am not sure if Edric will ever have the control of the elements that I do, but it is worth exploring.”

“True,” Jaeronos replied, settling into a chair on the other side of the desk from me. “I just wonder how his family and those who serve them will react to him if he unlocks such ability.”

“That, my friend, is a bridge Edric will have to cross if he comes to it.” Jaeronos nodded as I passed him a bottle, and I considered him.

The Essosi, because of his upbringing, was the most open-minded and accepting of my captains when it came to magic. That said, the ability I had to control the minds of weaker men was something he feared, which was entirely understandable. It was that, and the lies the Septons spoke of about how skinchangers became more animal than men, that turned many in Westeros against magic. The Seven was, of what I knew of the many religions in Essos, the most anti-magic of any on this world, which was why I was fighting in the Stepstones and not Westeros.

After taking a long drink from my bottle, I leaned back in my chair pushing thoughts about magic, R’hllor, and the Faith away. With Jaeronos here I finally had someone to run my ideas for how to finish Rakakz and then engage Allerion past. While I felt what I had laid out made sense, I wasn’t foolish enough to think I was some sort of savant with battle plans.

Skinchanging, and in particular aerial recon, granted me insights that few others could ever hope to use. However, it wasn’t anything that guaranteed victory, just a way to stack the odds in my favour.

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