99 [interlude]Effects of the war

As I said this chapter will be uploaded again (I made the corrections you pointed out).

Any recommendations or opinions so far are appreciated.

If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.

  300 power stones for the extra chapter

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We are back to normal, new schedule, as before, two chapters every week plus one for power stones.

sunday and thursday I will upload the fixed chapters, the extra chapter will be at your choice (it cannot be the same day as the others).

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introductory chapter for the Prussian company in the North

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POV of Karlon

The war was a blessing for some and a curse for others. Sadly,the nobles' war has only brought me suffering and misfortune. My loved ones have been ripped from my life, leaving me alone in the midst of destruction and chaos. I can't help but wonder if it was really worth so much violence and suffering. Now, I find myself wandering the ruins of what was once my home, wondering how I will be able to rebuild my life after all this. The war may have brought some victories, but for me, it has left only indelible scars.

 

As many in the village were conscripted to serve in the war, the nobles came and recruited as many as they could without discriminating. If it left families without sustenance, I was taken away from my mother and sister to go fight in the south.

 

The only thing that could assuage my guilt at times was that I had guaranteed more food for my family with my service. As there were fewer mouths to feed and the meager reserves that were in the granaries could last until the next harvest, it was better to die fighting in the south than to suffer from hunger at home.

 

Training was sparse; we were only taught which way the spear should be and equipped with worn leather armor and a spear, and we were quickly sent south to avenge our lords.

 

The journey south was exhausting. We marched day and night, with hardly any rest or food. Hunger began to weaken our bodies, but we had finally reached the river lands, where most of the fighting was taking place.

 

Our arrival on the battlefield was just in time because apparently the nobleman who was claiming the crown was about to be captured, and the combined forces of the north, the riverlands, and the vale arrived just in time with the help of a large mercenary company.

 

The battle was bloody; our enemies were not poorly armed peasants with as much training as we had; they were knights and men-at-arms with access to the king's arsenals, equipped with the best armor they could afford.

 

I had to hold back the urge to vomit; the smell of the battlefield was terrible, and the sound of screams of pain and clashing metal was deafening. My heart was pounding inside my chest as I struggled to hold myself together amidst the chaos. Lifeless bodies piled up around us, reminding me of the brutality of war. Through it all, I remained focused on my goal of staying alive.

 

Although we arrived when the battle was almost over, we still had to fight. Against that force, we outnumbered them by far, but the lack of training and scarce equipment showed as those knights killed several of my comrades.

 

Although our efforts were valiant, the superiority of the knights equipped with the king's best armor was evident. Our numbers were not enough to counter their skill and prowess on the battlefield. Desperately, we sought to weaken their defense, targeting the joints of their armor, but the task proved arduous, and many of our companions fell before we succeeded.

At the end of the fight, we had killed less than a hundred men and suffered horrible casualties. For a while, we stood watching the battlefield until we saw how a group of men wearing wolf skins quickly arrived to remove the armor of the dead on the opposite side, remove their boots, and check their pockets. They disappeared as quickly as they arrived.

 

The sergeant belatedly explained to us that our main form of payment would be in the form of loot. We had some coins in front of us, but we lost them.

 

We also joined in looking for something, but there was not much, just a copper coin or two. After that terrible battle, I thought the war was over.

but I was very foolish to think that it would all end in one battle.

 

What happened next were hundreds of skirmishes in the river lands between our sides.

 

Every day was a battle for survival; more recruits came from the north and joined in this carnage. By showing up, I was good at battle; knowing when to strike and when to retreat saved my life many times, and luckily the other side was better equipped, making the job of killing them more difficult, but I could keep their armor.

 

That's when I got the first decent pair of boots I owned, since my shoes were almost destroyed on the way south.

 

Now, with these new boots and more decent armor, I feel safer and more secure. I could move with greater ease, which was crucial in the midst of this endless war. Every day, the fighting intensified, and the need to find adequate resources and equipment became more pressing. My fellow soldiers and I were brave recruits, willing to give everything to survive. However, the reality was that we were at a disadvantage against the other side.

 

The Royalist side was better equipped, as the kingslanding smiths were supplying our adversaries, while our smiths could barely equip half of our army, and we were often dependent on killing a Royalist and removing his spear or sword in order to be fully armed. Despite this, we continued to fight with determination, relying on our skills and physical strength to face the enemy.

As the war progressed, the need to acquire adequate weaponry and equipment became more and more urgent. We could not allow the superior resources of the Royalist side to defeat us, so we sought ways to seize their weapons and protections, putting our lives at risk in every confrontation.

 

The balance of the war finally seemed to be in our favor when the mercenaries defeated the immense army of the lords of the south. It is said that it was a massacre in which thousands died and that the mercenaries suffered no casualties.

 

Again, my companions thought that the war was about to end, but fate had another surprise for us: the royalists had formed yet another army with the intention of fighting against us to end it all before the mercenaries could act.

 

Our leaders decided to fight while we were still moving towards a position to set up camp. The skirmishes continued.

 

War had consumed these lands; women were raped, men were killed, villages were completely looted, and fields were burned. It was all that both sides left in their wake. It was heartbreaking to see the devastation spread and cruelty become commonplace. The innocent were the most affected, forced to witness the brutality unleashed around them. Hope faded with each passing day, and there seemed to be no escape from this endless war.

 

The battlefield that the nobles chose was a river, where we waited for a few days for our adversaries to arrive. During those days, I dedicated myself to keeping my equipment in the best possible condition, which was easier said than done. The steel was only for the nobles, and the iron that was available was sold as if it were jewels.

 

The day of the final battle had arrived, and we had formed battle lines at the river's edge, ready to face our adversaries. The tension in the air was palpable as we awaited their arrival. Looks of determination and fear mingled on the faces of the soldiers. We knew that this battle would decide the fate of our lives. There was no escape, only fighting to the end, no matter the consequences.

I had survived hundreds, if not thousands, of small fights against groups of no more than twenty men, but here we were facing a huge army, and our commanders gave us the order to move forward.

And so we did. The deafening sound of war drums echoed in our ears as we advanced toward the battlefield. Swords clashed; war cries mingled with groans of pain. There was no room for weakness, only fighting and survival.

Arrows flew through the air, finding their targets with deadly accuracy. Bodies fell one after another, forming mountains of corpses that stood in our way, making it difficult to move along the river. But we didn't retreat; we kept moving forward.

 

I was lucky not to be one of the first in the formation, but I was still in the front line. They were pushing us from behind to continue advancing, crushing our comrades who were fighting at the front with all their strength. I felt the suffocating pressure and the latent fear in the air, but my determination was stronger.

 

The battle had been going on for a long time, and I was still in good condition after having killed four after a long fight, but it seemed that my efforts were doing nothing to favor the outcome of the battle; we were giving more and more ground each time the royalists were pushing us further and further.

 

When I was retreating under the enemy push, I received a heavy axe blow from a royalist that knocked me backwards.

 

I had fought to survive all this time to return home, and I could do nothing but watch helplessly as my opponent raised his axe again to do what I had done to several royalists.

 

I closed my eyes, waiting for my fate.

 

But I only felt the earth tremble.

 

I opened my eyes and saw my opponent turn to watch what was happening on the other side of the battle.

 

I stood up quickly, and before he reacted, I thrust my sword into his eyes, ending his threat once and for all. The sound of his body falling to the ground was gratifying, but I knew the battle was not yet over. With determination, I turned to the chaos unfolding around me and prepared to face whatever came next.

 

But as I watched what was shaking the earth, I also paused to observe it for a few moments.

 

Thousands of knights were charging against the royalist ranks, recognizing the banner. I was glad they were the mercenaries the vale's men had hired.

 

The battle ended within minutes of the brutal cavalry charge. The royalists were quickly overrun and dispersed, leaving a battlefield littered with corpses and wounded. The Vale mercenaries celebrated their victory with shouts of jubilation and huddled together to count their casualties. Although the victory was quick, we knew there was still much to do.

 

Remembering that we had won, I moved about looking for something valuable to take with me.

 

I took several swords, some shoes, and some coins. The royalists had almost nothing on them, but I got some coins. When the sun was about to set, I went back to the camp, where there was a joyful atmosphere and the agonizing cries of the injured all around.

I joined my companions in the camp, where they were celebrating the victory with music and laughter. Although the euphoria was palpable, I couldn't help but feel a knot in my stomach as I listened to the cries of the wounded, but there was nothing we could do to help.

 

Luckily, a group of mercenary healers arrived and helped our comrades, although their bird-like mask was very disturbing. The wounded were quickly tended to, and the agony of the screaming began to subside. As the night wore on, the festive atmosphere once again enveloped the camp, but the memory of those agonizing screams lingered in my mind, reminding me of the true reality of war.

 

A few days later, we marched to the capital. The war was over for the nobles, but the blood continued to flow. The lack of war spoils infuriated the lords, who continued attacking the villages we encountered along the way and causing mayhem.

 

Our stay in the capital was long, much to our bad luck. There was a shortage of food again, and we had to rely on our savings to get something to eat. A fight or two broke out between the soldiers of the different regions for food. The coins I had obtained by looting disappeared too quickly, and every day I had to spend what it had taken me a week to get because of the abusive prices of bread in the capital.

Finally, our lord returned, and we marched north again. After long months, the war was over, we had won, the starks received their justice, and we stopped temporarily in the river lands for the lord's business and to get supplies, but they were also getting scarce. The grain was getting closer every day to being worth the same as the gold.

 

Again, we marched north, this time without stopping until we reached our home. Arriving at Moat Cailin, the lords began to release us from our obligation of service and divide the spoils.

 

It was almost a joke: forty silver coins for almost a year of war. They also told us that we did not have to pay taxes this year, and next year, they gave us some food and we had to return home.

 

When our local lord was calculating how many of his men returned, I found out that I was the only one from my village who survived; out of thirty-three, I was the only one to return alive.

 

To our bad luck, we returned in the snow, and we had no clothes suitable for the weather. Since all the clothes I managed to loot from the dead were for the heat of the south, I had to resist the low temperatures to return home.

 

Fighting the cold and snow, I clung to the hope of getting home. Every step was a struggle, and every breath froze in the air. But I knew I couldn't give up; I had to get to my village; I wanted to see my mother and sister; I didn't have much, but the next year would be good since we didn't have to pay taxes.

 

After a few days, I arrived in my village, where many of my companions' relatives surrounded me as soon as they recognized me.

 

Their joyful faces were short-lived when I told them that I was the only survivor in the village. The pained faces of the fathers, mothers, wives, and children broke my heart. Although I did not have much time to accompany them in their pain, I wanted to see my family.

 

Every step I took, my smile grew as I saw my home, but I slowly stopped when I saw that it was in a terrible state.

 

Entering my home, I found that it was empty and full of dust; my mother was not there, nor was my sister, and silence reigned in every corner. My heart was filled with anguish and worry as I realized that something bad had happened to them. Where were they? Why weren't they here? Tears began to well up in my eyes as I desperately searched for some clue as to what had happened to them.

 

Finding no answer, I went to the village elder, who sadly told me that my sister had died of fever, and my mother followed her a few days later. Grief gripped my being, and I felt an immense emptiness in my heart. I could not believe that the two most important people in my life were no longer with me. Tears kept falling as I struggled to accept the harsh reality. The village was plunged into deep mourning, and my sadness was mixed with the helplessness of not having been there to take care of them.

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