Chapter 187

The Riverlands, a fertile expanse nestled between the Trident and its tributaries, has long been recognized as one of the richest regions in the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, compared to the neighboring Reach, its fortunes have been far less kind.

Located at the very heart of Westeros, this crossroads of conflict has rarely known peace. Unlike the Reach, unified under the powerful Gardener dynasty, the Riverlands never developed a shared identity or strong local loyalty. After the Andal invasion wiped out House Mudd, no local house managed to consolidate power, leaving the region fragmented and vulnerable. When unity finally came, it was not through triumph but subjugation—first under the Storm Kings, who extracted harsh tributes for centuries, and then under the Ironborn of House Hoare, whose reign of terror culminated in the construction of Harrenhal.

It wasn’t until Aegon the Conqueror’s arrival that the Riverlands saw deliverance. The Tullys, shrewdly aligning themselves with the Targaryens, became the new rulers of this war-ravaged land. Yet, centuries of suffering left deep scars. Even after 300 years of relative peace under Targaryen rule, the Riverlands never regained the strength or pride to rival other regions. Its people lacked the fierce spirit of the North, the martial prowess of the Westerlands, or the ambition of the Reach. Instead, they became known for relying on marriage alliances and external protection, a tendency that persisted from lowly peasants to the lords of great houses.

This history of dependence was on full display when Edmure Tully clumsily led his forces in an uncoordinated chase after Tywin Lannister’s raiders. Only with the arrival of allied troops was the Lannister force of a few thousand finally driven from the Riverlands, a display of incompetence that became a laughingstock across Westeros.

But mockery aside, the arrival of reinforcements dramatically shifted the tide. With House Frey leading eastern Riverlands forces and the Vale's cavalry joining the fray, Tywin’s raiders were soon overwhelmed and forced to retreat. After regrouping and organizing supplies, the allied army marched west, reaching the key Lannister fortress of Golden Tooth within days. Meanwhile, southern forces from the Reach advanced along the coastal road to besiege Kayce, and royal troops gathered outside Deep Den along the Goldroad. Shield Islands fleets sailed northward to blockade Lannisport, cutting off the Lannisters’ vital sea access.

The war had escalated into a full-scale assault on three fronts. Tywin Lannister faced the most significant military challenge of his life. Yet his troubles didn’t end there. Unlike the widespread sympathy for the Vale’s lords during their rebellion, Tywin’s iron rule had earned him many enemies. Troops from the Stormlands were already marching to join the royal army, while Dorne, driven by a long-simmering desire for vengeance over Elia Martell’s murder, mobilized over ten thousand soldiers and sought passage north through the Reach.

As armies from six kingdoms poured into Lannister lands, villages and minor houses swiftly surrendered. The Westerlands, known for its wealth rather than its size, had little defensive depth. In a matter of days, Tywin’s realm shrank dramatically, reduced to the narrow strip of land between the Golden Tooth, Casterly Rock, and Kayce. The once-mighty Lannister dominion teetered on the brink of collapse.

While the battle for the Westerlands raged, a different kind of chaos unfolded along the eastern coastline. Mysterious pirates, almost certainly hired by Tywin, launched raids on the Stormlands, Crownlands, and the Vale. Though the damage was limited, the disruption forced royal fleets to patrol the coast rather than join the siege of Lannisport.

The "War to Destroy the Lion" raged with such overwhelming force that its outcome seemed inevitable. Every soldier believed the eventual plunder of Lannisport and Casterly Rock would yield untold riches. This confidence ensured the war avoided the prolonged stalemates that might have impacted the Night’s Watch’s commercial interests. Beyond an expected surge in demand for wartime supplies, business continued largely as usual for Aegor and his enterprises—enough for him to question whether halting the construction of the third paper mill had been the right decision.

Fortunately, diversifying investments had paid off. The launch of improved lipsticks and soaps brought in steady profits, though not as lucrative as the paper business. Still, the success was undeniable, silencing critics who doubted the wisdom of repurposing the paper mill.
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In the bustling central square of King’s Landing, a massive crowd gathered. Thousands swarmed to witness the final act of an unprecedented spectacle centered on the Night’s Watch—or more accurately, the wight. Aegor had pulled strings to turn the creature, originally dismissed as an unclean abomination, into a marketing phenomenon. Its grotesque state, complete with severed, decaying arms, was both shocking and compelling.

Realizing the wight’s disintegration posed a ticking clock, Aegor decided to stage its destruction as a public display. Over several days, the Night’s Watch demonstrated the effectiveness of dragonglass weapons. They amputated the wight’s limbs, paraded the twitching remnants for the audience, and finally ended its unholy existence with dragonglass weapons. Each performance drove home the need for Night’s Watch supplies and stoked demand for dragonglass products.
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On the final day of the performance, the square overflowed with spectators. With hundreds of Goldcloaks barely maintaining order, the crowd eagerly awaited the climactic killing of the wight. Aegor, standing on the steps of the Alchemist’s Guild with Nina, watched from a distance.

“After this, we could auction off the dragonglass spear used to kill the wight,” Nina suggested brightly. “It would fetch a fortune.”

Aegor raised an eyebrow, impressed. “A brilliant idea. Let’s make it happen.”

As the crowd roared in anticipation, a black-clad Night’s Watch soldier stepped onto the platform, wielding a spear tipped with dragonglass. With deliberate flair, he drove the weapon into the wight’s chest. The creature thrashed once before falling still, its unnatural existence finally extinguished.

The presenter held up the spear, now smeared with the wight’s ichor, and launched into a practiced pitch about the power of dragonglass. From their vantage point, Aegor and Nina exchanged a satisfied glance.

“Black market rumors might add some mystique,” Aegor mused. “Spread the word that the best dragonglass weapons are restricted for military use, but some ‘misplaced’ pieces might find their way to the right buyers.”

Nina’s eyes sparkled. “A shadow market for stolen goods? I’ll handle it.”

With the wight’s death marking the performance’s finale, the buzz surrounding dragonglass surged to new heights. Aegor’s ventures were poised for yet another wave of success, fueled by calculated theatrics and the fears of an increasingly uneasy populace.