Maegor stood in his solar, the newly retrieved artifacts laid out on a large table. Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Kaeto Targaryen stood beside him, their expressions a mixture of professional curiosity and silent awe. The crude Dothraki wrapping was discarded, revealing the ancient treasures found within the northern ruins.
"Carefully," Maegor commanded, his voice low, his Valyrian Insight (Tier 3) thrumming with excitement. "Open them, one by one. And be ready for anything." He motioned for two of his Royal Guards to assist.
The first, the smallest lead box, was meticulously unsealed. Inside, nestled on ancient, crumbling fabric, was a small, exquisitely carved statue of a dragon, made from what appeared to be solid Valyrian steel. It pulsed faintly with residual magic, a miniature, fierce beast with gleaming rubies for eyes. It was cold to the touch, yet seemed to radiate power.
"Valyrian steel," Ser Barristan breathed, leaning closer, his old eyes wide with wonder. "A statue. Such craftsmanship is thought lost."
"A beautiful thing," Kaeto murmured, his hand instinctively going to his own Valyrian steel spear, drawn to the resonance.
"Indeed," Maegor affirmed, a grim satisfaction in his voice. This wasn't just gold; it was a piece of his lost heritage, a tangible link to the power of Old Valyria.
The second box was next. As it was opened, a soft glint of metal caught the light. Lying within, perfectly preserved, were two Valyrian steel daggers. Their blades were a swirling dance of dark and grey, their hilts wrapped in ancient, cured leather. They felt impossibly light, yet their edges gleamed with a terrifying sharpness. These were not ceremonial items; they were weapons of precise, deadly intent.
"Daggers," Ser Barristan murmured, a flicker of professional appreciation in his eyes. "Valyrian steel daggers. Almost unheard of."
Maegor reached out, picking them up. They felt like an extension of his own hand, perfectly balanced, cold to the touch. The ghost of ancient Maegor whispered of assassinations, of silent eliminations. These would be his personal weapons, for those moments when subtlety and ultimate precision were required.
"These will remain with me," Maegor declared, tucking the daggers securely into his belt, beneath his tunic.
Finally, the third and largest lead box was opened. The guards recoiled slightly, a faint, unsettling scent of dust and decay wafting from within. Inside, cradled amidst what looked like ancient, brittle bone fragments, lay another dragon egg. This one was different from the others. Its surface was mottled, a dull, earthy grey, almost petrified, and its shape was slightly irregular, as if warped by time. The bones around it were unmistakably draconic, small, twisted remains of hatchlings or very young dragons. The sight was a grim reminder of the Doom, of the fragile nature of even mighty creatures.
"Another egg," Kaeto breathed, his voice hushed. "And… bones."
"A dragon's graveyard," Barristan observed, a frown on his face. "Perhaps a clutch that never hatched."
Maegor looked at the egg. It felt colder, more inert than the others from Illyrio, or even his own "weak" egg he'd given to Viserys. But it was still an egg. Still hope. Still a dragon. He would keep it safe, stored with the others.
"Place the statue and this egg in the secure vault," Maegor commanded his guards. "Ensure they are protected. They are invaluable." The guards swiftly followed his orders.
The next six and a half months were a period of intense, focused growth for Maegor and his nascent kingdom.
The Dothraki settlement outside Myrosh exploded. Under Drogo's stern hand and Maegor's calculated guidance, permanent mud-brick houses rose in a sprawling, organized fashion. What had been a nomadic horde was slowly, remarkably, beginning to put down roots. The women and children cultivated the fertile land, learning rudimentary farming from the Myrosh peasants, overseen by appointed Dothraki kos who now answered to King Maegor. It was a bizarre, unprecedented fusion of cultures, but it worked, driven by Maegor's vision and the implicit threat of Balerion, who now soared over the Myrosh skies almost daily, a magnificent, terrifying lord of the air.
In the castle, the Myrosh Castle Guards had been forged into a formidable force. One hundred men, recruited from the local populace, had endured Ser Barristan's legendary training. They moved with discipline, wielded their spears and shields with grim efficiency, and their loyalty to the silver-haired king was absolute, a testament to Barristan's discipline and Maegor's commanding presence.
Viserys had been broken, then slowly rebuilt. His initial terror of Maegor had morphed into a desperate yearning for approval. He was still a sniveling fool at times, but he knew more history than any maester, could parrot political theories, and his sword arm, though still far from skilled, had gained a measure of strength and endurance. He still whispered to his dull dragon egg, its continued inertia a constant source of his frustration and fleeting hope. He lived in constant fear of Maegor's displeasure, yet now craved his occasional, rare word of approval.
Daenerys, quietly growing into a young woman of fourteen, bloomed under Maegor's protection. She spent hours studying with him, learning High Valyrian, reading histories, and observing the management of the castle. She remained quiet, but her purple eyes now held a growing fire, a fierce intelligence, and an almost palpable devotion to Maegor, her rescuer and future king. She diligently nurtured her green dragon egg, a beautiful, vibrant thing that warmed faintly to her touch.
And Lyra's belly swelled with Maegor's first child, the first of the Velysarion line. Maegor's nightly visits continued, a testament to his focus on lineage. He discussed the future with Lyra, the role their children would play, the strength they would bring.
Then, just as the consolidation reached a critical mass, the System chimed.
[ Mission Complete: Consolidate Myrosh ]
Objectives Fulfilled:
Oversee the successful construction of new housing for the Dothraki Khalasar in the Myrosh region. (✓)Ensure the initial Myrosh Castle Guards are fully recruited (100 men) and undergoing rigorous training. (✓)Begin initial training for Viserys Targaryen in both knowledge and swordmastery. (✓)
Reward Granted:
2 Uncommon Game of Chance Cards (with 2% increased chance for higher rarity)5 Common Game of Chance Cards
Maegor felt a surge of satisfaction. The basic infrastructure was in place. His base was solid. He now had seven new cards to play. And the System, ever prescient, immediately presented his next objective.
[ New Quest: ]
Objective: Secure Myrosh's Borders and Influence
Establish diplomatic relations or control over the surrounding independent villages and minor settlements in the Myrosh region.Neutralize any remaining bandit threats or hostile groups within a 50-mile radius of Myrosh Castle.
Reward:
Ability Upgrade: Commander's Presence (Uncommon) - Enhanced leadership aura; inspires greater morale and discipline in large units.Special Unit Access: Myrosh Light Cavalry (Minor Unit - Requires Recruitment)Reputation Gain: +400 (The Settler King) - Total Reputation: 11001 Legendary Game of Chance Card! (plus 8% chance to get non-common items)
Maegor's eyes glittered. Commander's Presence, a valuable leadership ability. Myrosh Light Cavalry – a local unit type to complement his Dothraki and Royal Guard. And a Legendary Card. This was a significant reward.
He had built the foundation. Now, he would expand his dominion. Myrosh was just the beginning. The intelligence report he had just studied would be invaluable for this new phase. He would not just rule Myrosh; he would make it the undisputed heart of his growing power in Essos.