MAKE WAR, NOT WAR: A KvK CHRONICLE

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

MAKE WAR, NOT WAR

Spring ruled over kingdom 276, full of colors and scents. The trees were heavy with blossoms, and petals drifted lazily on the breeze like prayers to the Seven. The fields glowed with fresh green, streaked with golden grain and dotted with poppies. The air smelled of lilac, iron, smoke, and sweat... the perfume of life reborn after the chaos of war.

But beneath that floral scent lingered the bitter aftertaste of failure.

The All-Out War was over.

And with it, our hopes of glory.

The Scarlet faction, once blazing with wild energy, now lay at the bottom of the rankings. We had come in dead last.

The map had turned yellow. Not gold like a crown, but jaundiced, feverish. The influence of Tempest had spread across the AoW like a yellow fever... and no cure could contain it.

And yet, i, Bezedash, your loyal minstrel-knight of the numbered kingdoms of GoT WiC, refused to yield to despair.

I was not forged in triumph, but in stubbornness.

So i turned my back on the ashes and looked toward a new dawn: the Bounty map.

There, two new stars glimmered on the parchment... faint, but insistent.

Hundred Battles Fortress.

The Siege of Bloodshed.

Golden stars. Gleaming temptations. Promises of commander chests and varied rewards.

I murmured to myself as i fastened my pack:

“We have sung for kings and wept for fools. Let’s see what songs these stars will bring.”

I gathered my troops, rallied my weary riders, and set off... not with fanfare, but with resolve. Alone, perhaps, but never aimless. I completed Prime quests, launched battles, gathered resources, and sent reinforcements to my brothers and sisters in tSB.

A detachment of light cavalry reached the stronghold of Queen Chayle. There, i saw them... the giants of our kingdom. Titans cloaked in banners now unfamiliar:

Vangark. PacoVega. Arthurion.

Under the banner of BDR: The Bloods Remember.

BDR.

It rekindled old fires. I was pulled... suddenly and violently... into memory.

It was last Saturday evening.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, its amber light bathed the high towers of our castles in k276.

We had left our respective alliances... a now-common gesture. Longtime companions gathered once more under a single name: xNx – The Nazguls.

We were quite literally seated around a wooden round table in the Discord tavern.

“So, who brought the cerveza?” said fraant, half-laugh, half-growl.

“Your mug’s already full,” murmured PacoVega, the smile clear in his voice.

“Save the wine,” grunted Vangark, “for after first blood.”

We laughed... but it wasn’t cheerful. A tension hung in the air like cobwebs in a crypt.

There assembled a pantheon: King Vangark, Queen Chayle, Arthurion, PacoVega, Bocaaaa, THE WICH, fraant, Diavola, Urielgrande, Lady Brissy, Sigrid, CCPC... and i, Bezedash, their minstrel, their chronicler. A pilot fish swimming among whales.

I would not match them in martial prowess.

But i would bear witness.

And i would sing of their feats.

Our enemy: kingdom 249.

Their presence gleamed across the map. Thirty minutes before KvK, we had probed their lines.

Dreadful names murmured among us like incantations:

The Yarama. IANQ. Denkura. Amron. Al Cohol. Mackaveli.

“This won’t be a gentle war,” Chayle whispered.

But we trusted in Vangark’s Art of War.

The first hour passed... silent, ominous.

Then, like a spark in a powder keg, fraant launched the first strike and enemy castles went up in flames.

“Too quiet,” said THE WICH.

“They’re watching,” replied Vangark. “It’s baiting time. Be ready, CCPC.”

CCPC nodded.

“I’ll be the bait,” he said. “But you better sing something good after this, minstrel.”

“I’ll make you immortal,” i promised with a grin. “Or at least a little famous.”

He dropped his bubble. We reinforced his walls. Then we waited.

Ten minutes. Twenty. A whole hour. Nothing.

Then, slowly moving his troops, CCPC captured King's Landing... almost mockingly. He was trying to draw attention.

Still nothing.

Until…

“Coordinates,” Vangark said sharply.

Mackaveli had dropped his shield.

The King struck instantly.

Flames burst around Mackaveli’s keep. He tried to flee, teleporting to safety… thinking he was out of reach... but Vangark trapped him with Sapphire’s Blockade.

fraant dove in immediately, smelling blood… and added fire to fire.

Then…

Denkura appeared.

The enemy had teeth... and a full line-up of F5 commanders!

He hit Fraant with such force that i felt the shockwave on Discord from my own castle.

“He’s fast,” fraant said through gritted teeth.

“So am I,” growled Don Chota (a king in disguise?). “My turn…”

He counterattacked... but Denkura had laid his own trap and hit the King’s castle with Blockade. Vangark couldn’t move.

The King was exposed.

“Send your castles to him!” cried Sigrid.

Vangark hid his troops in companion castles. I acted without thinking... my dragon soared skyward, trailing a searing wind. He landed behind Vangark’s walls just as Denkura struck.

The blow was massive. Vangark lost the fight, and the damage was significant... but it could have been far worse, if not for the team's presence of mind in sending their castles to give him time to shelter the bulk of his troops.

The points were shifting. We were losing.

Then CCPC, voice trembling but calm, shared spy reports:

“The Yarama and Al Cohol... no anti-scout. They’re wide open.”

Arthurion struck like a storm. Al Cohol’s castle erupted in scarlet flames.

But Denkura wasn’t done. He hit fraant… then Vangark harder. Then, like a wolf, he came back again.

We clung to the scoreboard... but barely.

And as for me, you ask?

Once i recalled my dragon, i sent my troops to gather in k249. A tactical withdrawal... not cowardice, but calculation.

In KvK, blood means points. And while i wasn’t afraid to lose, losing my troops would mean feeding the enemy.

So you’ll understand... mine were not to be spilled in vain.

The sun began to dip.

We fought on, but something had changed.

“Why does it feel different?” asked Diavola.

“Because we’re not just making war,” replied PacoVega with a sly grin. “We make war… as in, we craft it, shape it like an art. Not just brute force, but strategy, flair... style. We make war, not just war.”

He was right.

Vangark. Paco Vega. Arthurion.

They would soon be joining BDR.

So, after so much blood and flame… why not end KvK with a festival? That’s what the King and Denkura thought. And so, a grand tournament was proclaimed, where all could test their strength… and their limits.

What we fought today wasn’t a battle. It was a trial by fire. A whisper of things to come.

And that day, i knew one truth more deeply than ever:

“To triumph without peril is to triumph without glory.”

I, Bezedash, didn’t wield the blade solo.

But i filled rallies… and i sang to keep courage alive.

I knew my place.

So the whales clashed, iron against iron, flame upon flame. And you know what happens when whales play... the shrimp suffer.

And in the end… we won.

Not only because we broke our enemies. But because we remembered who we were.

Blue Diamond Day has passed.

And now... the whispers rise. The wind carries an old chill once more. The Night King stirs.

Somewhere, in the spring-drenched fields of k276, a new song forms on my lute.

Victory is not a crown… it is a scar, a whisper, an ember in the wind.

We were there. And we remember. And because we remember, you shall not be forgotten…

Not Vangark.

Not fraant.

Not CCPC and his bold gamble.

Not even Denkura, our foe of yesterday and ally of tomorrow.

KvK is over.

But somewhere, among petals and whispers, a minstrel tunes his lute and hums of things to come. The tale is over... but a song now lingers in the air... and now, dare to sing it...

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They say war divides, it burns and it breaks,

But our flames ignite for brotherhood’s sake.

When Vangark roars and Fraant takes flight,

It’s flame that speaks, the thirst to fight.

Arthurion strikes, PacoVega guards,

Chayle commands ‘neath vermilion stars.

Sigrid stands firm, Bocaaaaa storms wide,

And i, Bezedash, sing from the side.

Make war, not war, that’s what we say,

Not for blood, but to feel the fray.

We clash and we fall, but rise even more...

We shout through the fire: Make war, not war.

If the flame should dim, it won’t be tonight,

As long as we fight, we carry the light.

CCPC sets traps with unwavering grace,

THE WICH just grins... he knows the place.

Diavola blazes, Uriel stands tall,

Brissy laughs loud... she’s seen it all.

This isn’t hatred, it’s rhythm and roar,

A furious dance we all came here for.

We fight not to end, but to belong,

To fall in battle, then rise in song.

Make war, not war, that’s what we say,

Not for blood, but to feel the fray.

We clash and we fall, but rise even more...

We shout through the fire: Make war, not war.

If the flame should dim, it won’t be tonight,

As long as we fight, we carry the light.

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 Thank you for reading and see you soon.

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