The Game of Cyvasse

Daughter of the First men

Dragons

In the midst of the pouring rain, thundering hooves echoed across the open field as three centuries of the  Golden Company charged towards the Ser Gregor Clegane's men. The once-solid ground had turned into a quagmire, on a muddy crossroad that threatened to ensnare and hinder the mounted warriors.

Mephos witnessed as the cavalry of Serjeant Temerin charged head on into the ranks of the Mountain's men. As the clash began, the air filled with the metallic symphony of swords clashing and cries of men. Men on horseback fought with relentless fury, blades flashing as they faced the barrage of raindrops.

Swords bit into flesh, and the ground churned as horses struggled through the muck. But even as they engaged, the second century struck from the flank, a whirlwind of steel and speed that destabilized the Lannister ranks.

The third century, where Mephos was riding, remained concealed from view until it surged forward unexpectedly, bursting forth from the rear with a resounding roar. They were encircled, Mephos realized. He would be part of the force delivering the monster to King Aegon, securing everlasting glory. Caught between three unyielding centuries, Ser Gregor's men faltered, ensnared in a deadly pincer movement. Chaos ensued as men fought for their lives, the cacophony of battle overwhelming all other sounds.

In thar carnage, he was just an ordinary soldier of the Golden Company but I fight valiantly. Mephos felt his heart pounding, the rain and sweat mingling on his brow as he parried blows and thrust his sword. The world around him was a blur of movement and color, the battle becoming an instinctive dance of survival.

Suddenly, as if emerging from a nightmare, Clegane himself charged towards Mephos. He had heard the rumors about the Mountain, but the beast before him now was clad in armor and moved with an unbelievable swiftness, mounted on the largest horse Mephos had ever seen. His breath caught in his throat as he confronted the Mountain, a hulking figure of death and devastation. With a desperate cry, he swung his sword, but the immense strength of the Giant easily deflected the blow.

In an instant, Clegane's massive blade descended, cutting through armor and flesh. Mephos's world flared white-hot with pain, then darkness consumed him. His last sight was of the battlefield, still full of turmoil, and then he saw retreating figure of Gregor Clegane.

"The monster has escaped," he uttered, taking his last breath.
....

Direwolf

Sansa had initially been wary of Aegon's intentions. The scars left by Joffrey's torment ran deep, leaving her guarded and hesitant to trust. Yet, now, she is a hostage of the new king. Aegon also appeared distant, as if estranged from the present moment. Sometimes, she would think that the young king was not fully present, not quite grasping what was happening around him. Yet, he would swiftly disprove her assumptions, engaging with his guests in a manner that made them feel like the most important people in the world. His responses were insightful and eloquent, leaving a lasting impression, even if the interaction was brief.

The way Aegon spoke carried a peculiar accent that seemed both familiar and foreign to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. It accentuated his enigmatic persona, like a man who did not wholly belong anywhere. Sansa had never met a Targaryen before, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was the embodiment of the Targaryens she had heard of in countless stories over the years.

Initially, Sansa felt like the young king didn't pay her much heed. He would acknowledge her presence with a polite nod as he passed by, as if there was no need for further acknowledgment. However, with time, he started to address her as "my lady" with a subtle half-smile, barely detectable.

In Maidenpool, Sansa found herself with much more freedom than she had in King's Landing. Accompanied by guards and handmaidens, she could venture beyond the castle walls, exploring the town and visiting the pool or craft shops. The newfound freedom was refreshing after the confinement she had endured.