GoTAdvisor Reviews : Chronicle of a Knight-Minstrel

I am Bezedash and welcome once more into my GoT world.

PRELUDE

In the realms of GoT:WiC, where ambition weaves through every whispered word and the weight of power presses against your chest like heavy armor before battle, i, Bezedash, a knight-minstrel, continue my wandering path. I have left behind the familiar comforts of k276 — my king Vangark, my loyal brethren — forsaking all that was known for the siren call of new tales.

My journey led me to k335, where i reunited with my beloved wife, LadySam. Together, we ventured onward to k299, a realm brimming with fresh stories yet untold. As i traveled from one numbered kingdom to the next, i encountered scorn and disbelief.

“A knight-minstrel?” they would ask, their lips curling in mockery. “Do you carry your lute on your back as a shield, or have you fashioned a sword from your quill?” Though laughter echoed through the feasting halls, it never quite reached my heart. With every jibe, i merely smiled, packed my tales, and carried on — like the wind, forever in search of new stories to share.

One fateful evening, Bezedash and LadySam sat together in their castle, sharing a bottle of Arbor Gold, their laughter and stories flowing like the wine. The atmosphere was calm, the fire crackling softly, when suddenly a messenger burst through the door.

“My Lord, Lady! KRakeN has returned!”

The name sent a chill through the air. KRakeN wasn’t just a warrior—he was a trapcastle, skilled at provoking Lords into attacking only to destroy their armies. I could already feel the weight of impending conflict settling on my shoulders.

Bezedash exchanged a tense glance with LadySam.

“We must act,” she urged, her voice steady, a beacon of resolve.

“Then let’s gather our forces. We’ll meet him head-on,” Bezedash replied, determination coursing through him.

Though my heart was that of a minstrel, i knew this battle demanded my strength as a knight. The kingdom’s peace rested on the success of this rally, and the looming threat of KRakeN hung heavily in the air.

Quickly assembling our forces, we gathered cavalry from the armies of Bezedash, henomaus, CC528, and FC123 to launch a rally.

As we marched toward his castle, KraKeN taunted us, his laughter echoing like a dark omen. My heart was torn—this was not the song i wanted to write, nor the story i wished to tell. But the minstrel had no place on the battlefield, so i donned my armor, silencing the part of me that longed for the lute’s softer touch.

The battle erupted with a resounding clash. KRakeN’s traps inflicted heavy tolls, and i could feel the tension crackling around us. Each arrow that flew and each sword that clashed reminded me that this was a war of wits as much as strength. I spotted KraKeN poised for a decisive blow, his eyes gleaming with malice. My instincts took over; i had to protect my comrades.

With a strum of my lute, i disrupted his attack, giving my comrades the opening they needed. But in that fleeting moment, doubt crept into my mind—what if this song of battle turned into a dirge?

KRakeN retreated, his army in tatters. Victory was ours—but at great cost. The attack would have caused more damage without the t1's... too late. As i stood there amidst the wreckage, breathing heavily, i began to sing, my voice rising over the battlefield.

KRakeN, his laughter thick with mockery, called out,

“Has the minstrel had too much rum or smoked too many herbs?”

I grinned, replying,

“The only thing smoking is your castle, KRakeN.”

As the echoes of battle faded into the chilly evening air of King’s Landing, a heaviness settled in my heart. It had been too long since i’d written or sung, overshadowed by the realm's new darling, the storyteller eyaka.

I entered a modest tavern, where locals drowned their cares in drink, the scent of roasting meat mixing with the smoke from the hearth. Laughter filled the air, but i spotted a group of Lords and Ladies huddled together, their whispers piquing my curiosity.

“Advisors, you say?” I called out, my voice cutting through the murmurs. “Pray tell, what new sorcery is this?”

One stout Lord gestured for me to join them.

“You’ve yet to hear of the Advisors? Only Lords with castles at level 20 may summon them.”

I leaned in, intrigued.

“What do they do? Do they wield blades or whisper truths?”

The Lady beside him chuckled.

“They reside in the Council Hall, offering wisdom rather than force. But beware—they grow weary with each task, needing Vitality Potions to restore their strength.”

I stroked my chin, considering.

“So they’re driven by ambition and weariness, like us all?”

“Aye,” the Lady nodded. “And not all 36 Advisors are equal. Choose wisely; they can only aid one building at a time. Push them too hard, and they’ll abandon you.”

A quieter Lord then spoke up.

“There’s also the Supply Management Shop, where you can trade past victories for Glow Coins.”

“Glow Coins? For what purpose?” I asked.

“To purchase items like Vitality Potions. But choose your trades carefully; even the smallest item may hold great value,” the stout Lord explained.

The tavern keeper, wiping down a mug, chimed in,

"A bit of advice for you lot—you can 'idle' your Advisors if you don't want them burning through their energy."

As i absorbed this new system, i realized the Advisors could guide Lords and Ladies through the game’s complexities, but only those bold enough to seize such power.

“What are the dangers?” I asked, resting my lute on my knee.

“The risk lies in your choices,” the Lady said, her smile shadowed. “Misuse your Advisors, and you’ll find yourself alone when you need them most.”

Nodding solemnly, i strummed a few notes as the conversation fell silent.

Rising, i raised my tankard.

“To the Advisors! May we wield their wisdom wisely and help our kingdoms thrive!”

The Lords and Ladies around me echoed the toast, lifting their goblets into the air.

With the warmth of the fire on my back and the weight of new knowledge in my mind, i ventured back into the cold night, my fingers on the frosty strings of my lute, warming my vocal cords...

♪ ♪ ♩ ♩ ♪ ♩

In shadows deep, where whispers creep,

I tread the path of stories steep,

With every tale and every rhyme,

I gather wisdom, lost in time.

♪ ♪ ♩ ♩ ♪ ♩

Oh, mighty Lords and Ladies fair,

In councils grand, beyond compare,

Let not ambition blind your sight,

For wisdom shines, a guiding light….

A figure cloaked in shadow stood before me. His eyes, sharp and calculating, swept the room before landing on me.

“KraKeN,” I muttered under my breath, a wry smile tugging at my lips. He had returned, not as a foe on the battlefield, but as a fellow player in this grand game of whispers, tales, and strategies.

It seemed the next chapter of my journey was already writing itself.

The End... for now.

Thank you for reading

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