'The last of the Lorathi fleet have been captured or sunk Commander, Saan and his sellsails made fast work of em' Areo Morvel said his thick Norvoshi accent echoing around the command tent.
'Aye only after we broke em at Osar' Torrhen Karstark replied receiving cheers and agreements from all those present.
'Do we push on to Lorath and end this once and for all' someone shouted from the back of the tent.
The war between Lorath and Norvos had been raging for more than half a year, starting with the unprovoked attack by the Lorathi navy on the northern Norvoshi port town of Byan. Or what was Byan as nothing had been spared the slaughter the Lorathi had inflicted.
Thousands lay dead before the Norvos council of magisters mustered a company of bearded priests to drive Lorath back. At least that had been the hope; Khal Moro fell upon the priests as they marched butchering hundreds before the rest were able to retreat.
What followed must have been the bloodiest time for Norvos since the Century of Blood. Dothraki roamed free across their Hills attacking as they wished unwilling to take any tribute to stop their slaughter.
From the north came the Lorathi army taking village after village claiming all lands from the river Noyne to the northern tip of Norvos as New Lorath.
What was to be done with the lands to the east and west nothing was said but based on the wealth that Lorath had somehow gathered to finance half a dozen Free Companies he could guess that the lands of Pentos and Qohor would have increased in size.
What would have been doesn't matter though as after three moons of bloody struggle Norvos had reached out and the Legion had struck a contract.
The Dothraki were the first to fall; Khal Moro and his khalasar had grown too complacent with their successes and were easily led into a trap where they lost two thirds of their strength. The remaining khalasar cut their braids in shame before fleeing east leaving their Khal and Khalakka's bloodied remains behind.
With the Dothraki thrown back the Norvoshi gathered their strength; five thousand Bearded priests took to the field and acted as the anvil to the Legion of Rose's hammer.
For two moons they claimed back the Norvoshi lands ending the Gallant Men, the Bright Banners and the Iron Shields to a man before the remaining mercenaries fled abandoning Lorath.
Outnumbered and outmatched the Lorathi army attempted to flee themselves hoping to cross the river Osar and make for the coast to their fleet.
This wasn't to be however as their river barges had been captured by Gylbert Farwynd the Younger and his men who rained a murderous stream of arrows from the middle of the river for all those who attempted to swim across.
Stuck between the river and an approaching army the Lorathi made their stand. Whatever else could be said about them no one could say they weren't brave, they fought and bled for two days before the onslaught became too much dying in their thousands.
The Battle of Osar had been over a week ago and with the news of Saan and his sellsails success now known both the Legion and the bearded Priests were hoping to move onto Lorath.
For the Legion it was a chance to gain even more spoils to go with their already overflowing purses of gold and for the Bearded Priests; they believed it would bring an end to their holy war.
'The Conclave of High Priests have sent word from Norvos; Lorath have surrendered. The council of Princes have been arrested by the Lorathi Magisters who are offering reparations and the Princes for trial. The High Priests have accepted and ask that we standdown' he said bringing silence to the tent.
Many in the tent including the Norvoshi present didn't look pleased with this but none raised any serious objections; from there talk turned to breaking camp and everything that goes with it.
The sun had long set before the Legion of Rose's commander and captains sat together in private discussing their next steps now that their contract had ended.
'Tyrosh and Myr are at each others throats again and there is talk of Volantis gathering swords to protect against Khal Drogo' the legion spymaster Marc Rivers said bringing murmurs of interest from a few present.
'The men have gold and silver to burn and are in need of a rest I'd say break for a moon and see what contracts can be found after' Hazar Kesh shouted back.
Discussion went on for a while before it stopped abruptly when Asher Forrester came rushing into the tent his face covered with dirt and sweat handing him a piece of paper.
'The Legion will break for a time, ensure the men are well compensated and they know they will be called back when needed' he said strongly leaving no room for discussion; his eyes rereading the words that were scribbled on the paper.
Looking up he saw his captains all staring at him waiting for an explanation.
'I return to Westeros, my family have need of me!' his eyes once more drawn to the paper.
Bran Stark has fallen ill.
Word from Winterfell is that he may not see another year.
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