ASOIAF/GOT: Minecraft in Essos.

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~~~Jade Sea, Asshai~~~

~~~Eighth Moon, 277 AC~~~

Asshai, a city full of dangers, witches, demons, vampires, priests, pirates, bandits, and all the cursed progeny that a world could offer. The Great City of Shadows, where the sun dared not enter, either because of the thick chain of black clouds that covered the sky... Or because of disgust at touching with its solar rays those monsters that called Assahi'i their home.

Whatever the reason, it served as a mask and additional protection to those who walked the black-tiled streets of the city, bartered, sold slaves, bought people's organs for their experiments, or helped them to let out the naturalness of their horrifying selves.

Many of its inhabitants had been in a hard struggle to survive with the little that came to the city, whether clean water, or food, due to the harsh conditions that the city and its surroundings had that made everything planted die, and even the water running through the rivers or ditches was not healthy for bacteria.

So much so that no animals or children lived in the city, and while the lack of the latter made their price skyrocket and made them highly sought after by the inhabitants of Asshai, food was positioned on a far superior pedestal.

Unfortunately, few were the brave merchants or sailors who dared to cross its waters and enter the city, even knowing the astronomical amount of gems, gold, or jewels that the Ashai'i offered to the merchants who transported food and drinking water to the city.

But now, the city teemed with huge black ships at its robust and old docks, ships bearing the flag of Xandar flapped in the offshore winds, as Asshai men unloaded huge crates full of food from Tavalar, as the holds of the huge ships emptied, chests full of gold or gems were the new cargoes.

Xandar had made a fortune from trade with Asshai, it could even be said that all the trade with the Free Cities of the Narrow Sea was not enough to compete with the amount of gold-handled with Asshai.

This brought about a mutual agreement between the two sides, one stipulated by the strength of the other and good service, for even in Asshai, news of Xandar's strength came, and the sight of dark beings with purple eyes, or women with grayish faces and black eyes flashed a hidden danger that was best not to awaken.

In the bay in front of Asshai, there was a large ship, of blood-red wood and all-black flags, but what stood out most was the flag that was proudly anointed on the highest mast, a red eye with a black pupil beneath a black iron crown held by two ravens.

The Silence 

The ship of Euron Greyjoy, also known as Crow's Eye and the eldest of Lord Balon Greyjoy's younger brothers of the Iron Islands. Euron had made a name for himself, scourging the shores of every coastal city that could find his eye sound.

He was a cunning, sneering man, and a reputation as black as the sails of his ship, he had been for two weeks in Asshai, though he had been to the city twice before, this time he was drawn to something more.

The Xandarians 

Being in Ibben when he learned of the destruction of the pirate pit that had once been the Basilisk Islands by Xandarian forces, his curiosity for that place was kindled, and moons later, when he was crossing Volantis to go to Asshai, the news of the destruction of the Temple of Black and White reached his ears, and it was no longer just curiosity that drove him, no. Now it was something else, something more sinister hidden in that bright blue eye.

And now that which motivated him drove him to Asshai, instead of going straight to Xandar and finding what he was looking for straight from its source, he decided to go for broke, making sure to tread carefully and three steps ahead.

The existence of a place like Xandar, created only two years ago and having the greatest power in the known world made Euron marvel at the possibilities it represented. So much so that Euron, standing on the bow of his ship overlooking the Xandarian ships anchored offshore, blew a horn attached to his hip.

The news that Azrael controlled a dragon, fueled the man's thirst for ambition, and with the dragon horn plucked from the possessions of the sorcerers he had captured moons ago, painted a prospect of power within reach.

"Lord Euron, the hostages have agreed to talk," a clean, neat man with the obvious ability to speak, something rare among the crew of the Silence because Euron took it upon himself to rip out the tongues of those who stepped on the planks of his ship, said to Euron, causing Euron to turn around.

Handsome face, pale skin, hair as black as night, and a neat, blood-red beard like the hull of his ship, Euron was shown in all his fury, with his strong, sturdy body, along with his bright blue eye-like the sky, in contrast to the other which was covered by a patch of red leather. They made him a difficult sight to maintain for the sheer power he oozed.

"See what I told you?" Euron said to the man, who at no time had raised his eyes, keeping them on the ground, "A prick here, and a blow there, and that will be enough to break any man, even those who claim not to be."

Euron's method of torture was to kill one of the warlocks and feed him to the other three, who after almost a moon without a bite, the sample of flesh, regardless of what being it was and where it had come from, caused the three warlocks to ingest it as if it were chocolate candy.

The mocking and sadistic comment caused a numbness in the man's body, which did not go unnoticed by Euron, who only smiled even more, delighted at his crew's irrational fear of him.

However, Euron stopped getting excited about the fear shown and instead started walking towards the stairs leading to the second floor of the ship, the place where he had the three warlocks locked up in chains like dogs.

The three warlocks had been captured after the Silence intercepted a Qarth galley in the great Jade Sea, the crew consisted of slaves, which Euron sold in Asshai for a good price, what would they do with them there? He did not care to know.

The three warlocks lay with chains around their necks, to one side of their cell lay a half-eaten corpse, maggots had already made their appearance, and a foul, foul smell hung in the air.

"My dear friends!" Euron greeted with a beaming tone full of brimming happiness, as if the prospect of seeing former siblings or family was near him, and not the fact of meeting three men in deplorable conditions brought on by himself.

"They let me know they wanted to talk, and the idea makes me very happy, know that you have given me gifts that are very important to me, and I couldn't be more grateful," Euron rambled on with a friendly tone and a serene smile on his face. The three warlocks just looked at him with unreadable faces, not showing a hint of what they were thinking.

"So," Euron sat on top of a barrel, his good eye glowing, "let's talk."

But contrary to his thoughts, none of the three warlocks said a word, which only caused Euron's smile to fade, and in its place, an angry and threatening countenance was replaced. "Speak or I will cut you limb from limb and have them eaten!"

Despite the outburst, the three warlocks showed no fear or any emotion of weakness, but one of them decided to speak, "thank you for our friend Gerald, he was too weak to be named a warlock." Referring to the warlock that Euron had killed days before.

"We warlocks don't need food or sustenance, nature itself sustains us, but something that feeds us more than nature itself, is the essence of life, what drives it, and that is evolution, and something that drives it, is vengeance, give us that, and the secrets of the Eternal Men will be yours, including how to use the horn you took from us."

The idea captivated Euron, and the warlocks could see the gears moving in Euron's mind, thinking about the ramifications of this and what it might mean, "revenge for what?"

"Xandar."