Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 77: Conquering the Peninsula

Chapter 77: Conquering the Peninsula

Though Rhaegar's voice was youthful and his stature small, the presence of Cannibal at his side loomed large, casting a formidable shadow over the assembled wildlings.

At his command, the wildlings bowed in awe before the imposing figure of the dragon.

Taking control of the situation, Rhaegar continued, his tone firm, "Now that you've pledged your allegiance to me, you'll obey my every command without hesitation or risk facing the wrath of dragonfire."

The wildling leaders, at first filled with fervor, submitted, understanding that resistance would only lead to their destruction.

For the wildlings were not stupid; they knew that the curse meant death for them, while the dragonfire offered a chance at salvation.

In the presence of the mighty dragon, the previously disparate and rebellious wildlings were drawn to the prospect of a stronger leader.

Watching the newfound admiration in the savages' eyes, Rhaegar's own emotions stirred, a sense of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

After a moment of reflection, he issued his first command.

"The Shadow Creature threatens all tribes besides yours. Before it becomes too powerful, you will unite under my banner and take control of the peninsula!"

This was Rhaegar's improvised strategy: gather the wildlings, draw out the Shadow Creature, and destroy it with dragonfire.

A chorus of excited cheers erupted from the wildlings at the promise of conquering the peninsula and subjugating rival tribes.

Among this tribe of fierce warriors, who engage in perpetual combat, nothing rivals the intensity of their passion, whether in battle or in love.

...

The Next Day

The next day, Rhaegar gathered the wildling leaders and entrusted them with the responsibility of leading their respective tribes.

Having lost their leader, the Soldier Pine tribe chose a successor and united under the name Crab Claw, signifying their allegiance to Rhaegar as their supreme leader.

The valley proved to be an ideal location for their settlement, offering abundant resources and natural defenses.

Rhaegar ordered the women and children to remain in the valley, guarded by a hundred skilled warriors drawn from the five tribes of the wildlings. With the addition of the elderly, infirm, and non-combatants, their numbers swelled to over three thousand.

After weeding out those unfit for battle, Rhaegar was left with a force of about a thousand warriors, a formidable contingent for his purposes.

Their mission was clear: to fan out across the swamps and pine forests, seeking out and subduing the tribes of savages throughout the peninsula.

At the mere sight of his dragon circling twice overhead, the savages willingly submitted, their silent acquiescence speaking volumes.

In just five days, Rhaegar's dragon traversed the eastern reaches of Crackclaw Point, quickly bringing more than a dozen small tribes under his control and swelling his ranks to tens of thousands.

On the edge of a poisonous swamp, Rhaegar reclined in a rudimentary shelter made of animal skins.

Sitting amidst the animal skins, Rhaegar inquired, "How many have we assimilated today?"

"Prince, we've assimilated over two thousand in total, with only about eight hundred of them fit for combat," Skylar, now dressed in linen, reported, presenting the latest tally of recruits.

The strategy of the Peninsular Savages was remarkably simple.

Rhaegar was largely inactive, except for the occasional dragon ride to intimidate rebellious tribes, relying mainly on the manpower provided by the Crab Claws.

Skylar continued, "You have traversed the eastern peninsula on dragonback and integrated the wild tribes. However, there are noble castles in the western region, so we've refrained from rushing in."

"No matter, the nobles of the peninsula are sworn to the Iron Throne," Rhaegar replied somewhat nonchalantly.

The conquest of the peninsula proved to be less exciting than expected, more like a game of make-believe.

The ignorant savages fell to their knees at the mere sight of the dragon, sparing Rhaegar any significant effort.

At that moment, the tent flaps parted to reveal a tall figure.

"Prince, the leader of the White Crow tribe refused to surrender, so I've brought you his head," Trangal, one of the first Crab Claws to swear fealty, knelt before Rhaegar and offered a bloodied head.

They met regularly with Rhaegar, and though he refused the title of Dragonlord, they gladly addressed him as Prince.

Frowning in disapproval, Rhaegar commanded, "Dispose of the remains and spare me of such display."

Were it not for the Shadow Creature, he would have gladly distanced himself from these brutal displays.

Each of them seemed as dense as a block of stone. How much longer would he have to endure such barbarism?

He nodded and left, announcing, "The White Crow tribe has been subjugated, and the eastern peninsula is tribe-free. We will rest tonight and move on the western region at dawn."

"Agreed, Prince," Trangal affirmed, preparing to take his leave.

Skylar interjected with concern, "We're running low on supplies, and with so many mouths to feed, the valley's resources won't last long."

"How long can we sustain ourselves?" Rhaegar inquired, straightening his posture.

"Three days at the most," Skylar replied curtly.

"Alas, with tens of thousands to feed every day, how did you manage before?" Rhaegar lamented, never having dealt with logistics.

"Tormund and I struggled to feed ourselves for half a year under Uncle Falcon's care," Skylar recounted.

"Let's hurry to the western peninsula and deal with the Shadow Creature quickly," Rhaegar instructed, with a worried expression. "Was there any sign of the creature?"

"No, it looks like he hid, knowing it was being chased," Skylar replied, expressing her frustration.

...

Two days later, on a desolate mountain pass, a procession of wildlings hurried westward.

Above them soared a colossal black dragon, its vast wings casting a shadow over the land below.

With the eastern reaches of the peninsula secured, Rhaegar led the wildlings on a great migration.

But he exercised prudence, choosing not to take everyone.

The elderly, the infirm, children, women, and half of the warriors remained in the east, living off the hunt.

The remaining contingent, consisting of over two dozen Crab Claw leaders and more than 2,300 men, accompanied Rhaegar westward, carrying provisions for three days.

Though seemingly modest for a force renowned across the continent, their numbers made for a formidable army on this desolate peninsula.

Along the way, they encountered several small noble clans, entrenched in the valleys for generations, with noble titles but mired in poverty.

As Cannibal's wings passed overhead, these lesser nobles emerged from their dwellings and pledged allegiance to the prince.

But their  loyalty proved weak when Rhaegar demanded supplies for the wildlings.

They refused even when he promised double repayment, and only relented when they saw the power of the dragon.

...

"Attack!"

"Kill the dogs of House Brune!"

"Damn you Crabbs, slaughter them all!"

Hovering above, Rhaegar watched a chaotic melee unfold in an open field below.

"Cannibal, let's descend and survey the scene," he commanded, tapping the dragon's spine as they descended.

Below, a motley group of iron-clad "soldiers" clashed, their clothing lacking proper armor, most wearing rough linen robes.

Their weapons, aged and worn, betrayed the appearance of a formal army.

Rhaegar watched the skirmish, noting the banners on both sides, marsh marigolds and a deadwood adorned with skeletons hanging on both sides of the clearing.