The Cleansing

## Refugees

In the early beginnings of 360 AC, Lys would find itself beleaguered by a brand new menace, of the religious sort. A dragon worshipping cult had formed, one that desired to reinstate the power of the dwindling Valyrian elite. It didn't take long for the R'hllorists to be executed and expulsed.

The exiles fled to Dorne for shelter, and with Martell's blessing, they began to settle in Planky Town and the Shadow City, while some others ventured inland along the rivers Vaith and Godsgrace.

Eventually, they returned to their original purpose for which they'd been shunned from Essos: preaching their ways. The Dornish, unsurprisingly, weren't too fond of their ideology - the pariahs promoted monogamy, branded same sex relationships as wretched and illegitimate, bastards as cursed and offensive to their God. Although initially only frowned at, perceptions shifted when the preachers became more aggressive and violent. Viewing the Orphans of the Greenblood as impure, several clashes and skirmishes soiled the sands crimson. Their fervour and numbers made law enforcement significantly daunting, and the death toll grew each day.

Tired of watching without action, the nobility petitioned to Martell to put an end to this madness, supported by the local clergy. Preventative measures were enacted, such as relocating the exiles to the squalid slums of the towns. In an attempt to fully integrate them into their society, septons were also sent to these regions to convert the foreigners to the Faith of the Seven. First, the efforts looked simply futile and disappointing…

## Rise of Zealotry

… but then they turned horrid, as a young zealot by the name of Arron burned one such septon and his retinue in the streets of the Shadow City, clamouring for religious freedom and declaring an uprising. Ragged battles followed, until Prince Martell mobilised his forces to cease this chaos once and for all. Unlike the Pitchfork Revolt that took place in the Riverlands many years ago, the flames of rebellion were not allowed to develop. The response to the zealots was brutal, effective, ruthless. Every fifth insurgent's head was put on a pike for public display. Yet the heart of the corruption eluded them - Arron and his band had fled, cutting their way out of the Shadow City at the crack of dawn.

The conflict did not count many battles. Most of the engagements consisted of loose skirmishes that ended as soon as they began. But the cultists were large in number, and favoured subtlety over direct warfare. Several R'hllor temples, who had in no way been affiliated to these madmen previously, were taken up by their fervour. The Dornish nobility did not discriminate their culling - all of such edifices were razed, regardless of allegiance.

The **Battle of the Dunes** was the first major engagement outside of the Shadow City. The warrior-priest Arron and his warband were ensnared by the pursuing cavalry of Lord Vaith. Unwilling to surrender, they planted their feet in the sand and stood defiant in the face of death. Hundreds fell from his side, unable to match the strength of the horseflesh and steel launched against them, yet they did not break, inspired by the courage (which could almost be dubbed suicidal at that point) of their leader. At what looked like the last decisive charge, a vicious sandstorm tore apart the surrounding vicinity, with the Vaith soldiers taking the brunt of the damage. Taking this as a sign from the Red God, the exiles led a shocking counter-attack that routed the Dornish and put them to shame.

## Turnaround

A second such occurrence did not end in a similar victory. Lord Toland, having caught scent of a large group of these preachers amassing near his lands, swiftly sent his levies to crush the law breakers. The **Battle of the Arm** progressed with a series of clashes that sent the cultists as far as to the eastern shoreline. It is said that, making a mockery of their religion, the captives were burned alive at pyres, and in their final moments, they cursed their oppressors with dying breaths. Folk have often talked of the odd sightings and hearings at the shore. Some believe the rageful spirits of the R'hllorists still reside there, waiting for an unsuspecting fool to step into their demesne.

Arron was as quick as thought, terrorising many small settlements and making short work of their militia, disappearing before a proper force could catch up to him. He won several small victories before Lords Allyrion and Uller overtook him in the **Battle of Smoke and Shadow.** Having taken refuge in the hills between Vaith and Scourge, the priest had prepared his defences well. Pyres were enacted, several occupied by the scouts caught from the abovementioned host. The slopes provided natural cover, but the proceeding smoke embellished it even further.

The Dornishmen galloped into a battlefield covered by smoke and pierced by the screams of the burning. Demoralised from the agonising screeches of the brethren they couldn't see and thus save, and the fact that the entire area was coalesced by a veil of grey they couldn't disperse, what looked like a one sided engagement soon turned wild. Some, fallen to mass hysteria, claimed the cultists fought not alone, but with the power of demonic shadows at their side. It took five hours, toiling and wasting away beneath the desert sun, that a victory was secured by the Dornish, with sweat and blood. More than half of their forces had fallen dead or wounded, but the survivors were in a fit of rage.

## Final Cleansing

Arron, a skilled swordsman by all rights, almost managed to flee, hacking away at the enemy lines, sowing unspeakable fear with the strength of his arm, with men attributing his power to mythical, devilish arts. Whether he was consorting with demons or not, the leader of the uprising fell on that day, disarmed by his superior - Lord Drinkwater's blade proved more experienced than his. Although the intention was to take the captive back to the Shadow City for a public execution, it was not meant to be; the remaining Dornish soldiers were as a mob, and all discipline had been lost among them. No order, by lord nor officer, could compel them otherwise, as they rushed the wounded zealot and tore him apart limb from limb.

Much of the momentum of the revolt was lost at that point. With the death of their commander, all remaining strongholds were purged to the last, and R'hllorists became a name to be shunned and spat upon in the deserts of Dorne.