Irina was a godswife at the temple of the Great Shepherd in the city of Kosrak. She had been one since she was given to the temple at the age of ten. For the last nine years, she had dedicated herself to the service of the Great Shepherd.

She rose from her modest bed, clothed herself in the simple yet dignified robes, and then made her way to the temple's inner sanctum. There, she joined her sisters in prayer. They prayed for the well-being of Kosrak, its inhabitants, and all of Lhazar.

"Great Shepherd, guide us through this day," Irina whispered. "Protect your flock from harm."

As daylight seeped into the city, breathing life into its streets, Irina and the other godswives busied themselves with the care of the temple. They moved with grace and purpose, cleansing sacred spaces, adorning altars with flowers, and lighting incense that filled the air with its heady fragrance.

Soon, the temple doors were opened, and worshippers began to arrive, seeking blessings and solace. Throughout the day, she offered counsel, listened to the burdens of those who came to her, and provided comfort with a compassion that embodied the teachings of the Great Shepherd.

"May peace find you today," she often said, her eyes reflecting the depth of her sincerity.

Her presence was a soothing balm to the troubled, her words a light in the darkness for many.

As dusk fell and the temple gathered the faithful for the evening worship service, Irina's voice joined the chorus of prayers and hymns that filled the sacred halls. This communal act of devotion, a shared expression of faith, bound the community closer, reaffirming their collective belief in the Great Shepherd's guidance.

Yet, as night descended and she retreated to the solitude of her quarters, Irina confronted the doubts that shadowed her heart. The Dothraki raids, a scourge upon their lands, had taken much from her, including her parents. The memory was a wound that time had not healed.

"Why ? Why do you allow such suffering?" she found herself questioning in the silence of her room. "Why must your flock endure such pain?"

Her questions hung in the air, unanswered.

As she lay down to sleep, Irina's prayers took on a new tone, not of devotion but of a plea for understanding. "Show me the way, Great Shepherd," she whispered into the darkness.

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The city of Kosrak faced an unprecedented threat. For years, Kosrak had thrived under the protection of Khal Tenmo, a powerful Dothraki lord whose favor ensured the city's safety from the marauding horse lords of the vast grasslands.

Yet, the tides of fortune had turned. Khal Tenmo, embroiled in a fierce conflict with Khal Jhoggo, was on the brink of defeat. The city's lifeline, its bustling trade, had dwindled as caravans ceased their visits, paralyzed by fear of the advancing danger.

The residents, trapped between the warring khals, found themselves caught in an inescapable predicament, too terrified to venture beyond the city into the perilous unknown.

Khal Jhoggo, known for his brutality and destruction, and his khalasar were riding towards the city.

Hearing the news, Irina immersed herself in prayer along with her sisters.

"Great Shepherd," she whispered, her voice echoing softly in the hallowed space, "guide us through this dark hour."

Her prayers were met with silence, the silence seemed to mock her pleas for divine intervention.

In her most desperate moments, Irina found herself before the elder godswives, seeking solace in their wisdom.

"Why does He allow this?" she implored, her voice tinged with desperation.

Their answers were always the same. They spoke of trials and divine tests, of strength found in suffering, and the mysterious ways of the Great Shepherd. But to Irina, these answers provided little comfort.

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Jhoggo arrived and unleashed his khalasar upon the city. His forces, known for their brutality and thirst for destruction, swept through the streets, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. Homes were razed, markets plundered, and the cries of the people filled the air.

In the temple, Irina and her fellow godswives joined together, their voices melding in prayer, desperately seeking divine protection to shield their city from the encroaching terror.

The response they received was nothing but silence. The Great Shepherd offered no response.

The Dothraki breached the inner sanctum. The sacred space, a haven of worship and peace, became a scene of horror as the invaders committed unspeakable acts against her and her sisters.

As Irina was dragged away, her heart heavy with grief, she found herself abandoning the prayers she had known all her life. She realized the Great Shepherd was uncaring and indifferent to the suffering of His flock.

In her moment of deepest despair, Irina's prayers shifted away from the god she had known all her life. Instead, she reached out in hope for a new protector,a new god, a divine force that might deliver her and her people from the nightmare they faced. Her call was a desperate plea for intervention, a raw and earnest beckoning to any presence that might offer salvation in their darkest hour.