Bharbo was one of the many sons of Khal Jhoggo, who led one of the largest Khalasars in the Dothraki Sea.

His father was a skilled rider and a fearsome warrior.He possessed a keen understanding of the complex dynamics that governed the Dothraki. It was his father's ambition to unite all the Khalasars in the Dothraki Sea to become a Khal who ruled over other Khals.

It was this ambition that led him to attack Khal Tenmo; it was supposed to be the first of many his father had planned to fulfill his ambition.

Their victory was swift and brutal, doubling the size of their Khalasar and laying waste to Tenmo's forces.

Then his father led a great raid against one of the three cities of the Lamb Men as a demonstration of his power and dominance and also to assert his rule . It was all supposed to be the start of glorious conquests that would end with his father as the Khal of all the Dothraki.

We reveled in our triumph and planned to scour the lands, pillaging villages and enslaving the weak lamb men.

Then it happened. Bharbo was not present in the camp that night; he would piece together the night's horrors from the accounts of the terrified survivors.

A single man had destroyed everything his father had built. A Maegi, the survivors began calling the Dark One.

They say spears rained down from the sky, striking and killing everyone in sight. They claimed his father bravely fought the Maegi and was even close to defeating him, but the Maegi had struck him down with his tricks.

Bharbo was able to rally some of the survivors of his father's once mighty Khalasar; many had split into smaller hordes and were raiding the lands. Some cowards had even fled, calling these lands cursed.

Bharbo swore vengeance against the Dark One. He was going to build a Khalasar that would surpass his father’s and make war against the trickster Maegi, take his powers, and finally fulfill his father’s dream of being the Khal of all the Dothraki.

******

As dawn approached, a thick mist shrouded the landscape. Bharbo, mounted on his horse with his bloodriders by his side, surveyed the area.

“This is the largest village in the region,” Aggo, his oldest friend and chief bloodrider, noted.

“Capture as many as you can alive; we need more slaves,” Bharbo commanded.

“But what of the Dark One? If the rumors are true, he is heading this way,” Qarro, the youngest bloodrider, inquired.

‘He was right’ Bharbo thought.

Some of the warriors who had recently joined his Khalasar had spoken of the Dark One’s rampage; they said he was following the river down to Hesh and slaying any Dothraki he encountered.The very mention of him filled Bharbo with rage.

Bharbo turned to Qarro with a stern look.

“This Maegi, he bleeds like any other man. I will kill him myself should he dare to face us,” Bharbo declared, his intense gaze silencing Qarro.

“Your father was a great Khal, and you are destined to surpass him, Bharbo,” another bloodrider proclaimed, affirming his loyalty.

“Prepare the men. We ride at dawn. And if the Dark One comes. I will greet him with my blade,” Bharbo announced, earning the cheers of his bloodriders.

*****

As the first light of dawn broke through the horizon, Bharbo led his raiding party through the thick mist. The village was in sight, its inhabitants still wrapped in the false safety of their dreams. With a thunderous roar, Bharbo signaled the attack, and like a tempest unleashed, the Dothraki descended upon the village. Bharbo led the charge with his arakh raised high.

To Bharbo, the chaos was a symphony, each cry of terror and clash of steel a note that stirred his blood. The thrill of the hunt, the exhilaration of combat—it was in these moments that he felt most alive.

He reveled in the destruction, and with a smile playing on his lips, his arakh cut through the air, finding its mark again and again.

The villagers were no match for them. He watched with satisfaction as his men rounded up the survivors; they would make good slaves for his expanding Khalasar.

Bharbo quickly turned towards the direction from which he had heard something—a strange, unfamiliar sound that seemed out of place on the battlefield, leaving him momentarily puzzled. He couldn't identify its source or purpose until he saw one of his warriors in the distance suddenly collapse to the ground.

It was then he saw it amidst the chaos and the clamor of battle: a spear slicing through the fog with unnatural precision.

Bharbo’s eyes widened in shock as the spear found its mark, impaling one of his bloodriders. But the horror did not end there; the spear continued its deadly dance, moving of its own accord, striking down his men with ruthless efficiency.

Panic began to spread among his men as they tried to defend against the unseen terror.

“He is here,” Bharbo said in a low voice.

Aggo rode near him, an expression of fear etched on his face. “The Dark One,” he said, echoing Bharbo's realization.

“We have to retreat,” Aggo finally found his voice.

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But Bharbo had no plans to do that. His heart surged with wild, dark joy. He would face the cowardly Maegi right here and avenge his father.

He saw the spear turn towards him, its tip gleaming menacingly in the dim light. In a split second, Aggo acted, pushing Bharbo out of the path of the deadly projectile.

Bharbo hit the ground hard, his breath knocked out of him. As he looked up, he saw Aggo impaled by the spear that was meant for him. Anguish and rage filled Bharbo as he watched his friend fall.

Rising to his feet, his face a mask of vengeful wrath, Bharbo bellowed into the dense mist.

"Maegi! Coward! Face me, if you dare!"

He let out a guttural roar that tore through the mist. The battlefield fell eerily silent for a moment as Bharbo stood tall and defiant, his eyes scanning the shifting fog for any movement.

It was then he saw it. From the depths of the mist, a figure emerged, followed by other shadowy forms. The figure extended a hand, and the spear flew back to it as if called by some dark magic. Bharbo's heart froze as he realized who it was.

He wanted to charge and attack, to fight this Maegi, this Dark One who had brought such devastation upon his people. But before he could move, one of his remaining bloodriders grabbed him, urging him onto a horse.

"We must flee, Khal! We cannot win this battle," the bloodrider urged, panic evident in his voice.

Bharbo's eyes remained fixed on the figure in the mist, the embodiment of his hatred and vengeance. The figure, now holding the spear, began to laugh, a cold, mocking sound that chilled Bharbo to his core.

"No! I will not run like a coward!" Bharbo screamed, his voice filled with fury. But his bloodrider was insistent, pulling him onto a horse. As they retreated, Bharbo's gaze stayed locked on the figure until the mist swallowed him whole.

Vengeance burned within Bharbo as he rode away from the battlefield.

"I will kill you, Maegi," Bharbo swore under his breath, the vow burning in his chest. "This I swear upon the blood of my ancestors."

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Jason watched as his troops decisively overpowered the Dothraki warriors they had used the dense mist to surprise the Dothraki raiders.

Garth was proven right in his predictions, as the hundred men he had used his power to share skills exhibited signs of enhanced capabilities.

Garth, who had monitored these men for a month, noted their transformation into what could only be described as super soldiers.

Their agility, strength, and reflexes surpassed ordinary human limits, with every maneuver executed with unmatched precision and every strike proving fatal.

While Garth was monitoring them, Cregan was putting them through a rigorous training regime. Due to this, they worked together as a cohesive unit.

Garth and Cregan had studied the books I had brought with me, especially the one on military strategies. The hundred were equipped with mostly leather armor now, as metal was in short supply.

They used a spear as their primary weapon; he had made them himself so the smiths could focus on the armor. The training Cregan provided, combined with Jason's enhancements, had forged a formidable army.

Jason, leading from the front, bolstered his troops' morale merely by his presence. He used his kinetic powers to turn his spear into a deadly projectile; sometimes, the sixty men he had brought with him didn't even have to fight.

Cregan shouted orders, his voice booming over the clash of steel. As the last of the Dothraki fell, the battlefield fell silent, save for the labored breaths of the weary yet victorious men.

"Victory is ours!" Cregan's voice thundered across the field, igniting a wave of cheers among the ranks as they celebrated their victory.

"Excellent work," Jason commended, approaching Cregan.

“You did all the work,” Cregan responded, giving Jason a hearty slap on the back.

"Now, where's my spear?" Jason murmured, scanning the vicinity. His gaze locked onto two Dothraki at a distance, eyeing him intently. One of them was glaring at him with intense loathing.

“Looks like we missed some” Cregan said to Jason.

Finding his spear nearby, he launched it at the Dothraki glaring at him, but he was pushed away, and the spear struck the other one.

"Maegi! Coward! Face me, if you dare!" he heard the surviving Dothraki shout.

"This is a brave one," he said to Cregan.

Jason walked towards the man with his personal guard following him. Sensing an opportunity to look as menacing as possible, he summoned his spear to him with a dramatic pose, something he had been practicing a lot to be more intimidating during their campaign along the Skahazadhan.

"Ah, damn it, the spear's covered in blood now," Jason noted, trying to get the blood off his hands.

"That tends to happen when you use it to impale people," Cregan quipped dryly.

As Jason was distracted, the Dothraki was able to escape. Cregan began issuing commands, but Jason halted him.

He let out a laugh, seeing the fleeing Dothraki. 'He was so confident before,' Jason thought.

"Let them go. They’ll spread the word of what happened here," Jason decided.

"Are you certain?" Cregan inquired.

"Yes," Jason affirmed.

"Allow me to clean the blood off the spear, Great One," offered one of Jason's guards. The initial ten enhanced men had become his personal guard. Something like his own Kingsguard, as Cregan mentioned.

"Here," Jason said, giving the spear to the guard he had been calling Sam, since his name was too difficult to pronounce for him. This had started a whole thing with the others, which ended up with him giving names to the rest of them as well.

Sam took the spear from him as if it was the most important thing in the world and sprinted to the river to clean it.

Cregan was watching the whole encounter in amusement, then turned to Jason.

"We should head back; we've ventured farther than intended," Cregan suggested.

"We've secured all the crucial farming villages along the river. Advancing further would lead us to Hesh," he added.

“I agree. Well, you know the drill,” Jason ordered, turning to the guard near him, who Jason was sure was the one he named Jim.

"Yes, Great One," Jim responded, before departing. Jason had implemented a strategy of stationing soldiers in key villages. They would be replaced later by new regular soldiers trained by the forty men he had left behind in Kosrak. This approach was designed to maintain the security of these villages and solidify his dominion over the territory.

‘Maybe I should change the name of the city,’ Jason thought.

‘Kosrak sounds weird to me,’ he added in his mind.

“Are you sure the ones we left behind will be able to handle any more raids once we leave?” Jason asked.

“Yes, more than enough. I am half tempted to have you do the same to me," Cregan said.

“I can do that if you want,” Jason offered.

Cregan shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Tempting as it might be, I'd rather stay as I am till I die.”

“I’d rather have you make more of them,” Cregan said, pointing to the men helping around the village.

"Oh, no, I'm not going through that again. The hundred will train others in the normal way," Jason said, quickly dismissing the idea.

Cregan let out a booming laugh.

“You are laughing. I was out of commission for a month, and you are laughing," Jason said in a joking tone.

“Well, it was a good thing, as it gave me more time to instill some discipline in the hundred, and Garth had the opportunity to conduct his studies on them," Cregan explained.

Jason had begun enhancing the people Irina brought to him after the first ten were successful. Even Garth, who was hesitant about the whole thing, had decided to select people himself as he reached the forty mark.

As he reached the sixtieth person, he began to feel weak, yet he persevered, determined to enhance at least a hundred. Upon enhancing the hundredth individual, he was on the brink of collapse.

The following morning, he found himself unable to rise from his bed, as if paralyzed, his head throbbing as though he had a thousand hangovers at the same time.

It took a full month for Jason to recover completely. Garth had theorized that his condition was caused by overusing the ability. Jason had operated under the assumption that this power was devoid of the drawbacks associated with his other abilities; it was something he found out the hard way.

His thoughts were interrupted by a woman approaching; she was one of the five women Irina had sent with him. They had been a great help in calming the populace of the villages they had passed through.

Whenever they reached a major village or town, one of them would ask to stay behind, and now, Jason assumed, as the last of the women remaining, she was here for his permission to stay as well.

The woman bowed to him and was about to speak, but he interrupted before she could say a word.

“Let me guess, you wish to stay?” Jason asked.

Her eyes went wide and she gave a silent nod.

“You have my permission. Help these people any way you can,” he said, offering her a supportive look. “Thank you, great one. This one will not fail you,” she said as she bowed deeply once more and backed away from him.

‘I really have to talk to Irina when I get back,’ thought Jason. He knew of the cult that had formed around him and seeing how fast it was spreading alarmed him a bit.

“Cregan, I am going to lay down by the river and watch the sunrise,” Jason said as he left Cregan to coordinate their return.

He found a nice place beneath a tree and watched the sunrise over a now mostly peaceful land.