(Third-person perspective)
A deafening explosion ripped through the reinforced wooden door, and with a loud shout, Aermir's army surged forward, charging into the heart of House Stormcliff Citadel. Due to the naval battle, the defenders were dwindling in number; they had lost most of their knights and soldiers, and were almost powerless against the unstoppable wave of Aermir's vanguard.
The Stormcliff soldiers fought valiantly, but were quickly overwhelmed. With only a little over a thousand defenders remaining, they were exhausted by the overwhelming power and fierce onslaught of Aermir's paladins and Drasil Knights. Aermir's spells further enhanced the vanguard's fighting strength, and they, like the relentless forces of nature, cut down their opponents.
Aermir himself also took command, and from his high vantage point, he summoned his Wildfire Spirit, infusing it with scorching power. The flames erupting from his incantation were more destructive than ever before, engulfing his opponents in hell.
As the battle intensified, it quickly devolved into a massacre. In the end, only remnants of the House Stormcliff's garrison remained, and their once formidable Citadel now echoed with the triumphant shouts of Aermir's army.
Faced with the grim reality of the destruction of the House Stormcliff, the lords of Ironcastle painfully decided to retreat to the more fortified stronghold of the House Longthorpe. Although abandoning their ancestral home was a painful and humiliating choice, the shadow of death and the impending doom left them with little room for pride or sentimentality.
As the Iron Champions gathered their remaining strength and possessions, a somber atmosphere descended upon the abandoned Citadel. The halls that once echoed with the voices of their ancestors were now empty, and silence enveloped their retreat.
However, the Ironcrown Lords knew that survival was paramount, and his decision, however painful, was necessary. They would regroup within the Wall of House Longthorpe's fortress, preparing for the inevitable confrontation with the ruthless Druid and their forces. The shame of abandonment would weigh heavily on them, but they held fast to the hope of redemption in the battles to come.
Aermir's army advanced resolutely, each step carrying a sense of finality. With each step they approached the Citadel, they pounded their shields and roared in battle. This sight instilled fear in the soldiers of Ironcastle and Longthorpe. As they drew near the Citadel's imposing gates, the banners of House Drasil fluttered in the wind.
At the Citadel gates, Aermir stood tall and imposing as Druid. His voice, filled with righteous indignation, proclaimed the crimes of the Three Sisters people and demanded their surrender. The Druid's voice thundered through the courtyard, sending chills down the spines of all who heard it.
Inside the Citadel, the lord of Ironcastle —who now reigns in the absence of the late Lord Longthorpe —and whose new lord is just a ten-month-old infant, convened his council to discuss the grim situation. It was a somber meeting, for they knew the strength of the enemy they faced.
Amid the somber discussions in Parliament, the youngest son of the House Longthorpe, a man of few words but resolute character, approached the Ironcastle.
"My lord, surrender may be our only option," he whispered. " The Druid and their army are too powerful; our people cannot endure any more bloodshed. It is time to place the well-being of the Three Sisters above our pride."
The Ironcrown Lord, his heart heavy, nodded in agreement. "We will surrender, but we cannot fail to negotiate. For the sake of our people, we must seek the best possible terms."
They may speak of "the people," but their primary concern is not the well-being of the people of the Three Sisters, but the survival of their own noble families. Faced with the overwhelming power of Aermir and his army, the lords knew their fate was likely inevitable. Clearly, compared to the survival of their noble bloodlines, the lives of commoners were of little importance to them. The only peaceful solution was to ensure the survival of their own families.
Aermir stood atop the gatehouse, the wind billowing his cloak of moss and leaves, gazing intently at the Ironcrown Lord. His voice carried immense power, resonating in the bones of the Three Sisters people.
"People of Longthorpe Castle," Aermir declared firmly, his voice resounding, "We do not want innocent lives to suffer needless pain. We have no conflict with those who have fallen into the shadow of their rulers. The flames that devoured Stormcliff are proof of their aggression. We do not want tragedy to repeat itself here. Now I ask you, will you surrender, or will you pay with your blood?"
The Ironcrown Lord clearly felt the pressure, but a glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes as he said, "Honorable Druid, we are willing to surrender and submit to the rule of the North, if only you would forgive the innocent lives here."
They knew they wouldn't be allowed to rule as lords, but they hoped their sons would. Aermir quickly grasped the Three Sisters lords' intentions and raised his hand to stop any further negotiations. Then he continued.
"I will not bargain with pirates, but I will not kill the innocent either," Aermir said firmly. "Therefore, I give you one choice, and only one choice: all the male members of your family will become men in black, and the female members will marry the North nobles I have chosen. They will become the new lords of the Three Sisters, but I give you a chance to breathe; they will use your surname. Thus, your family name and bloodline will continue through your female members."
The lords of the Three Sisters, filled with resentment and suspicion, began to blame one another. However, Aermir struck the Citadel gates with his staff, silencing their protests. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet, and the commoners and soldiers knelt to pray to the Seven.
Aermir reiterated angrily. "I said I don't bargain with pirates! Will you accept or reject my offer?"
The Ironcrown Lord, who had initially spoken on behalf of the Citadel, glanced at the other lords, then turned to Aermir. His voice carried a sense of defeat, conveying the family's surrender. "We accept your terms, Lord Druid. The male members of our family will become men in black, and our female members will marry the North nobles you choose."
And so, Aermir conquered one of the Three Sisters, and the massacre at Stormcliff earned him the entire island he had planned for. He took all the male members of each family to the next island. He also made sure to get half a meal on the island so that the kind people of the Three Sisters would know what the hunger they had imposed on the North meant when they attacked the North ' grain ships.