Of Thrones Brother - Game

The rain on the Iron Islands didn’t wash things clean; it just made the rust bleed.

Victarion’s men shifted nervously. They were ironborn, reavers, killers, but Euron was something else. He was a storm trapped in human skin. They looked to Victarion, waiting for the order to charge, to wash the beach in blood and end the madness. game of thrones brother

Victarion raised his axe, the cold iron heavy and familiar. There would be no parley. There would be no brotherhood left to salvage. The rain began to fall harder, hammering against their armor. The rain on the Iron Islands didn’t wash

"Kill him," Victarion whispered, the words torn away by the wind before they could reach his men. waiting for the order to charge