Ever since the intoxicating aurora had descended, the sun had never risen again. Across Westeros, only the skies south of King's Landing still held a faint glimmer of light. The North and northern Essos had plunged completely into the Long Night.
This made the already frigid northern climate increasingly terrifying. To minimize losses among their people, the lords gathered all their subjects near their castles.
Even so, large numbers of commoners still died of hunger and disease every day.
In Essos, the Dothraki simply led their tribes into Slaver's Bay, slaughtering their way through.
The nobles of Meereen were dragged out of their Great Pyramids. Not only was all their wealth plundered, but they themselves became scarce food supplies, kept alive until they were needed.
As for the slaves, more than half of whom had already died, scarcely any remained. Apart from those with the foresight to flee to Isilia and Reclea, the inhabitants of Slaver's Bay's cities would likely be wiped out beneath the hooves of the Dothraki sooner or later.
Although the southern regions of the Seven Kingdoms had not fallen into complete darkness, the layers of black clouds made them little different from night. The relentless rain had also ruined all the crops that had been nearly ready for harvest.
Many of the elderly, the weak, women, and children could not withstand the cold and damp, and died miserable deaths.
And this was despite the Seven Kingdoms having made ample preparations well in advance, with every noble doing their utmost to combat the disaster and provide relief under the Royal House's coordination.
Essos and Sothoryos, meanwhile, had descended entirely into the dark law of the jungle, where the strong devoured the weak. Before long, countless villages and towns had been wiped off the map by human atrocities