Forging the New Horde
The plain outside Pentos was quiet now. The fires of battle had burned to ash, and the dead lay thick across the earth. Dothraki corpses sprawled beside their fallen horses; Spartan shields and spears lay broken among them.
But the living remained.
Twenty thousand riders had bent the knee, their braids dusted with blood, their eyes still burning with shock. Never before had a Khal fallen in single combat. Never before had a foreigner — a stranger in bronze and crimson — taken his place.
Leonidas stood before them, helm in hand, his face streaked with dirt and blood. His voice carried across the sea of riders.
"You followed a stallion," he said, "a man unbeaten — until today. He is gone. I remain."
The riders shifted uneasily.
"You call yourselves the strongest," Leonidas growled. "But strength without discipline is nothing. A wave crashes, then breaks. A storm howls, then fades. You charge as the storm — but we stand as the mountain. Which endures?"
The Spartans slammed their shields in answer.
"A-oo! A-oo! A-oo!"
The khalasar flinched at the sound. But in their eyes, Leonidas saw something else: not just fear, but hunger.
Daenerys stepped forward then, silver hair unbound, her voice calm but clear. "You call me Khaleesi," she said, her Valyrian tongue translated by trembling riders. "Then hear this: I will not be a Khaleesi who is carried in a tent. I will ride with you. I will fight with you. Together, we will build something greater than any khalasar has dreamed."
The riders murmured, uneasy — but some nodded.
Leonidas raised his hand. "Those who would ride with us will learn our way. Not the way of chaos — the way of the phalanx. You will fight not as a hundred riders, but as one spear. You will hold not as men, but as iron."
He pointed to a group of bloodied warriors. "You. Front."
Confused, they stepped forward, horses snorting. Leonidas barked a command in a tongue they did not know — but his Spartans moved instantly, forming a shield wall.
The Dothraki laughed — until Leonidas ordered the Spartans to charge.
The shield wall slammed into the riders, unhorsing two with brutal efficiency. Before the men could rise, Spartan spears hovered an inch from their throats.
The laughter died.
Leonidas' voice cut the silence. "This is order. This is strength. Those who mock it will be broken by it. Those who learn it will become gods of war."
The khalasar shifted uneasily. They had always worshiped speed, fury, the wild chaos of the charge. But here was proof — chaos could be broken.
And what could not be broken, they would follow.
Daenerys lifted her voice again. "The old Khal is gone. My shield has slain him. But I tell you this — we do not ride to plunder and burn. We ride to conquer. And we ride for more than horses and fire. We ride for thrones."
A murmur rippled. The word "thrones" was strange to them — but they understood conquest.
The System pulsed in Leonidas' mind:
> [New Quest Unlocked: Train the Horde]
Objective: Transform 20,000 riders into disciplined formations.]
Reward: Spartan-Dothraki Hybrid Army — 'The Crimson Horde.']
And so it began.
On the blood-soaked plains of Pentos, where chaos had met order, a new force was forged. Not Dothraki, not Spartan — but something far greater.
A horde of bronze and fire.
A queen with dragons yet unborn.
And a king of shields, preparing them for war.