Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 1: Rahalo the Goatman

Laharo woke up from the darkness, his brain throbbing, and memories that did not belong to him flooded into his mind like a tide.

The neighing of war horses and the roar of soldiers could be heard in my ears, and the air was filled with a faint smell of blood.

He opened his eyes and looked through the gap in the tent, only to see a wasteland.

This is the Dothraki Grass Sea outside Pentos, the kingdom of nomads, east of the Narrow Sea, in the heart of the Essos continent!

He was originally the son of Khal Dro and the slave girl Lazarin.

In the Dothraki language, Khal is a respectful title for the tribal leader, similar to the "Khan" on Earth. Rhakhar was once his khalak, or heir.

Drogo, once the most powerful khal in the Dothraki Grass Sea, ruled over the vast khalasar.

However, Rahalo's wish to win easily was dashed, because not long ago, Khal Drogo killed his father Dro in a duel, and he was also hit in the head and fell unconscious in the battle. Drogo took the opportunity to annex their khalasar.

If the Dothraki had not considered it a shame to kill those who could not resist, Rhakal would have been killed by Drogo long ago.

"You're finally awake, Rahalo. It seems the medicine I prepared is working."

A woman with messy hair and dirty body came in from outside the tent, wearing a tattered linen cloak.

The woman was also a Lhazareen, or "sheep-people" as the Dothraki called them, and her name was Mirri Maz Duur, so she was half his fellow countryman.

"You should be thankful Drogo spared you because he wanted to marry. He was the mightiest warrior on the Grass Sea. He cleaved Hraka's head with his scimitar and crushed the chests of countless foes on his steed."

You'd better run away, run to where Drogo will never find you!"

As the khalak, R'haro was a potential threat to Drogo's throne, and now everyone in the khalasar believed he was doomed.

In his previous life, he was just an ordinary office worker, struggling to pay his mortgage. Working 996 consumed his time and life, and he died suddenly in the office.

And now, he clenched his fists, his knuckles making crisp popping sounds, and felt the surging power throughout his body. The power he had never experienced before made his heart beat faster, and his whole body ignited with the long-lost fighting spirit!
In this life, since he has such a strong body and the knowledge accumulated in his previous life, he will not be satisfied with this grassland. A crazy idea appeared in his mind!
Iron Throne!
Drogo is his first stepping stone!

The identity of Karakor gave him the legitimacy to rule Khalasar. If he killed Drogo, he would have a great chance of seizing the position of Khala!
Rahalo looked at Mirri and spoke word by word, "The name Rahalo means Son of Iron and Blood. I will take back everything that is mine. I will make the entire Dothraki Grass Sea submit to me!"

Laharo walked out of the tent. The summer sun was scorching the earth. Thousands of tents were scattered all over the place. War horses were walking around leisurely, showing a wild atmosphere.

"Daenerys is in the palace across the way."

Mirri followed, staring at Rhallor's head with a hint of amusement in her eyes. "When the seventh sun rises, she will be Drogo's Khaleesi. If you don't run by then, Drogo will cut off your braids and feed them to his horse!"

Laharo's eye twitched, and he subconsciously touched the top of his head. The sides were shaved and only tied in a random knot at the back of his head.

In Dothraki tradition, braids symbolize a warrior's honor, while cutting off a braid symbolizes shame.

For him, it was not a question of whether to cut off his braids or not, but a question of whether to cut off his head or not.

Thinking of this, he decided to test his current strength. If he was not sure he could kill Drogo, he would just run away.

Becoming a khal or something, just take it slow.

He climbed up a small hill not far away, holding a double-curved bow in his hand.

This is a common weapon used by the Dothraki. The bow is made of strong wood and animal horns and can easily penetrate armor.

"You want to sneak up on Drogo? How naive!"

Mili followed him like a ghost. With human life at stake, Rahalo had no time to pay attention to her. He slowly pulled the bowstring, and the double-curved bow gradually bent into an astonishing arc, making a creaking sound under the heavy load.
"That's enough!" Mirri exclaimed, "If you pull any further, the bow will break..."

"Bang!" Before he finished speaking, there was a loud noise and the bow was torn into two pieces by Laharo!

"Cough cough cough..." Mili choked on her own saliva and coughed violently. "Ahhh!"

The surrounding warriors looked in the direction of the sound and were all stunned. After a brief silence, they broke out into a huge cheer!
Because no one has ever been able to break a Dothraki bow with brute force!

Laharo was very satisfied. This ability was not inherent in his original body, but came from the golden finger of soul crossing. It was estimated that his physical fitness was about three times that of his original body!
He threw away the broken bow, drew out his arakh, and set his sights on a huge sandstone in the distance.

Meanwhile, Daenerys was sitting in her palace. She heard the cheers outside and became curious, so she ordered her maid Irri to open the window.

She walked barefoot on the soft Qohor cashmere carpet to the window, and a tall figure on the hill caught her attention.

"Who is that man?" Daenerys asked softly.

"Rahlo, Drogo's goatman son," Irri continued. "Drogo killed Drogo's father, Bulbor. Drogo killed Drogo. In a few days, Drogo will kill Rahlo, too. Alas, he was quite handsome. What a shame."

Daenerys said nothing, her violet eyes reflecting Rhallor's figure.

Facing the sandstone that was as tall as a person, Laharo gripped the hilt of the knife tightly, took a deep breath, and suddenly swung the knife down!

"boom!"

With a loud bang, stone chips flew everywhere, and the blade was deeply embedded in the sandstone, almost splitting it in half!

Yi Li was dumbfounded, but after a while she sighed even louder, "Alas, what a pity."

Daenerys held her breath, deeply shocked by this scene.

At this moment, Laharo seemed to sense her gaze and suddenly turned his head, his obsidian eyes meeting hers.

Daenerys did not dodge, but looked at him deeply, then returned to sit beside the bed.

"sheep?"

Daenerys repeated the strange Dothraki word, not quite agreeing with Irri's assessment.

Sheep can never control their own destiny.

Her brother Viserys is about to send her to the unfamiliar sea of ​​grass as a bargaining chip for the revival of the Targaryen family.

And her future husband, Drogo, was a rude and brutal man who exuded a disgusting smell of blood.

"I wouldn't mind sleeping with all the barbarians in the khalasar if I could get that army!" Viserys's roar still echoed in her mind.

This sentence was like a thorn, causing severe pain in her chest, but also leaving her unable to refute it.

She was just a pawn of fate, a political victim. No matter how much flattery and awe she was surrounded by, she never felt truly free.

She is the sheep who cannot control her destiny!
But just now, she found a temperament in that person of the same age that was completely different from that of other Dothraki.

That was what she had always longed for, the freedom to break free from the shackles of fate!

Laharo withdrew his gaze, and amidst a chorus of exclamations, he pulled the scimitar out of the sandstone, glanced at the tattered blade, and curled his lips helplessly.

The technological level of this world is roughly equivalent to that of medieval Europe, and the Dothraki Grass Sea is the most technologically backward region in the world.

This scimitar was forged from the lowest quality sponge iron, a common quality used by Dothraki scimitars, and was even less hard than bronze.

Moreover, the arakh is a combat weapon for infantry and is very heavy, which is not something that a nomadic people should use at all.

The knife is broken, but it doesn't matter. He will use modern knowledge to forge a more powerful Damascus scimitar, kill Drogo at the wedding, and snatch Daenerys!

(End of this chapter)