CHRONICLES OF ARENA OF HONOR.... AND LET DIE

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

Honor… and Let Die 

Spring had finally won the war against winter.

A silent yet dazzling victory: buds burst on bent branches, the air smelled of warm moss and the promises of gentle storms. I, Bezedash, kinght-minstrel of the numbered kingdoms of GoT WiC, had returned a few days ago from the grueling 24 hours of the last KvK.

My castle, with its familiar stones and echo-filled corridors, welcomed me like a discreet old friend.

I lingered in my chambers, my body heavy and tired but my heart restless, too full of energy. My lute rested in a corner, its low string slightly slack... much like my inspiration.

Lying on my old canopy bed, i had taken up the habit of seeking inspiration by staring at the ceiling of my room. My quill scratched the vellum, but words came only in drips and drops. Nothing rang true. Serenity is always too quiet for true songs.

To clear my mind, i went down to the stables.

Hermine, my black stallion with a coat as dark as night, pawed the ground impatiently. I placed a hand on his neck, and while brushing him, i began to speak as one does to an old companion:

"You are my faithful steed, Hermine. I have ridden you through fiery battlefields, aboard my ship on the Narrow Sea, and in the snows of the North. And never do you falter, never do you waver. You are my only friend...".

I paused.

"What am i saying... Of course not. Scattered, yes... but real. Brothers and sisters in arms. Laughers, dreamers, storytellers, fighters. Familiar voices in the turmoil. And i don’t care for them as much as i do for you. That must change..."

I climbed the steps of the raven tower, quill in hand, for it felt like a revelation. Up there, my messenger ravens stared at me with the impatience of birds too long ignored. I entrusted them with words full of affection and hope. Missives for King Vangark, Queen Chayle, my shadow-brother THE WICH, and my great sisters of war: Lady Brissy and Diavola, here in k276.

Then i waited, waited... For a long time.

But no raven returned.

"What did i expect?" i murmured. "They are like me: never at rest, always in the fray. So be it, if they won’t come to me, i shall go to them."

So, with my lute on my back, i made my way beneath the walls of the royal castle. I climbed atop a creaky barrel, raised my arms, and began to sing... not in the common tongue, but in the lilting language of the South... the king’s tongue... so that hearts would understand me, even if not every ear caught each word:

🎶 "...Mira a Diavola, siempre está presente,

vigila el reino con ojo valiente.

Lady Brissy ríe y va de frente,

te abraza el alma y golpea al siguiente.

Y THE WICH con sus guerras nocturnas,

manda tropas que cruzan las dunas.

Sus consejos cortan como cuchillas,

la sigo yo, aunque pierda rodillas....

...Shini es fuego que no hace ruido,

pero cuando actúa, se siente el latido.

Y Vangark llega como un torbellino,

duro y franco, sin ningún filtro fino..."🎶

Windows opened. Curious faces leaned out. I got what i wanted: a glance, a smile, a spark of warmth.

It was then, with swift steps, that i climbed once more to the Tower of Ravens. Then, i launched a new volley of ravens. This time towards another circle, more discreet, but just as precious: the Nerds. It was time to gather more friends for new adventures... those of the Arena of Honor.

Eyaka, our captain, answered me immediately. A feast was prepared.

The night before the match, my castle filled with voices and laughter. Around the banquet table, each of my companions shone in their own way: we were ten, united like the fingers of a hand. A true house.

Gathered around the great table, we savored dishes and memories before the battle: eyaka, the chronicler with moving images, ScottTeller, the captain’s right hand, henomaus, my brother forever, Little Blu3, joy incarnate, the mysterious twins mf000 and mf001, Paco Jhones, straight from his wine cellars, LadySam, my wife and my steadfast star, the formidable Арморация, who never backs down… and me.

The match was about to begin.

“We’ll go with a chill strategy,” declared eyaka. “Well-placed trade posts. Less stress, more points.”

Eyaka wanted the least stressful tactic possible and, as in the previous match, opted to turn Strongholds into Trading Posts in order to accumulate points quickly.

We set off on this mission, but at the same time, i kept an eye on the enemy houses.

We were House Targaryen, and to the north stood House Greyjoy. Imagine my surprise when i saw that my longtime idol was among them: Lady L0ry, known for her amazing animated stories of invasions.

I was probably her number one fan, and as such, i knew how powerful she was… Looking closer, i saw that the Greyjoys weren’t building trade posts but infantry offensive camps. They were ready for battle from the start.

Meanwhile, our trading posts were calmly reaching level 3, and we were holding second place in the rankings.

Suddenly, a shrill alarm rang out, accompanied by a swirling red circle... signs of an imminent attack: our House’s castle was under siege.

The ten of us immediately sent reinforcements to counter the attack… troops from the Greyjoys!

Our house fell in one blow. It had become their possession, which meant our trade posts could also become theirs, depriving us of points.

Yet the match had only just begun!

Eyaka gave the orders:

“Priority to retaking our House’s castle... we must take it back at all costs,” he thundered.

We launched simultaneous cavalry rallies because Lady Lory (yes, my idol!!) and her infantry troops were occupying it . Our cavalry charged. Арморация launched the first rally. I followed. Our horses pounded the earth... so did our hearts.

We won a first victory… and reclaimed our House. We were taking back control and about to unleash the fury of the dragon we embodied.

With our grip restored, we launched a counteroffensive on their Altars, especially the Maiden’s, to gather as many points as possible, having clawed our way back to the top of the rankings after starting in second-to-last place.

But the respite was brief. The Greyjoys returned with t5s spearmen troops, and our House fell once more. Only eyaka and Paco Jhones had t5s, and we were no match for their t5s AND F5 commanders.

There is one ruthless law of nature: when you're surrounded by powerful predators, the scent of blood can only attract them. All the Houses, Baratheon, Stark, Lannister, and Tyrell, joined the Greyjoys to take our Altars, the mines, and the Dragon pits. A tidal wave.

And by the way, what was going on at the City of Glory? Who had taken it? No idea... and honestly, it was the least of our concerns!

And then… discouragement set in. LadySam quietly withdrew, her troops decimated. Little Blu3 and mf twins said nothing. Henomaus fought for a while longer… then fell silent too. Only half of us remained: Арморация, eyaka, Paco Jhones, ScottTeller… and me.

“We don’t give up,” said eyaka. “Even if we finish last, we’ll go down in style!”

We were now in last place.

Facing these relentless opponents, was our fate already sealed?

True to myself, i couldn’t help but drop one of my famous pearls of wisdom, like a mantra:

"Better to fall on one’s sword than slip on one’s pride.”

A nervous laugh spread through our ranks. After all, an honourable defeat is rather like weak ale: a let-down, yes, but better than going thirsty.

Our castle changed hands every minute. We launched rally after rally. Every victory was swept away by an enemy counter-rally. Infantry, cavalry, spearmen… The Greyjoys' strategy was surgical.

Eyaka, like a furious dragon, led his t5s into the fray. His name shone: 3rd in elimimation ranking.

Арморация fought as if victory were still possible.

And i… i sang to give us courage, while leading my troops through the flames.

But the golden Kraken tightened its tentacles. It suffocated us slowly, mercilessly.

The match ended.

We were dead last and had lost our House.

The match barely over, we gathered in the Tavern of Lost Souls, which echoed with murmurs. The fire crackled. We were all there. Hermine slept outside, muzzle resting on the cobblestones.

“So, Nerds?” said Scott Teller, breaking the heavy silence that had settled among us.

I stood, placed my mug down.

“We lost. No doubt about it. Last. Without a House. And yet…”

I scanned the room. My friends looked at me... tired, but present.

“We fought with honor. We didn’t flee. Even when everything seemed lost, we stayed. Some had to let go… and we won’t blame them. But we held on. Until the last minute.”

Silence. Then Арморация raised her mug.

“To honor… and to defeat.”

“To honor… and let die,” i whispered.

That day, i understood that honor and friendship do not guarantee victory. They adorn it. They give it meaning.

We were overwhelmed, outmatched… There was nothing we could do to resist. The chill tactic didn’t work. The hot-blooded enemies had stronger troops and far more powerful commanders… and yet we, the Nerds, held on. We didn’t win the Arena of Honor, but we won in spirit and dignity.... well kind of... No regrets, no shame... we tried to lose with honor… but found only death... with a salty taste.

Perhaps next time, we must better anticipate enemy compositions and adapt our strategy in real time, balancing the chase for points with the defense of what truly matters.

Sometimes, that’s enough to inspire a song. I stood in the middle of the crowded room, on a table, i reached for my lute. My fingers hesitated. What song could carry this match? What rhyme could dress our wounds?

And yet, i began to play.

Because someone must.

And this one… I shall call:

"Honor… and Let Die."

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We went to fight in the Arena's name,

Thought we were ready... but it’s never just a game.

We geared up proud, our banner raised up high,

The Nerds arrived, and silence met our cry.

We struck like stormwinds, fast and cruel,

The ten of us, our tactics cool.

But fire was burning in our core...

We fought for something they’d not fight for...

Honor and let die...

We gave it all, no time to ask why...

We knew the odds, but still we tried...

To take our House and let our flags fly...

Honor... and let die...

Last place in line, but first in soul,

We played our part... not chasing the goal.

It wasn’t written, nor foreseen...

That this would be the Honor Arena’s scene.

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I will see you soon for some more thrilling adventures.

Thank you for reading.

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