Skyrim System In Westeros

The lava mixed with ashes was shaped into stone pillars by Wright using magic, cooling into dense and hardened black basalt.

With his greatsword, Wright carved the words: "Tomb of the Last Member of House Targaryen: Daenerys Targaryen." The tetrahedral stone pillar stood three meters tall, with another identical pillar beside it—one for Daenerys, the other for Aegon, differing only in the inscriptions.

The outskirts of Meereen, once barren and lifeless due to the plague, were now covered in green wild grass and blooming with colorful flowers. However, few animals roamed, and the ecosystem was only slowly recovering.

Around Aegon's tombstone, stone slabs were laid out in a circular formation with a radius of about twenty meters. Fresh flowers were placed in front of the tombstone, and banners of noble houses surrounded the ring. Valyrian nobility frequently visited the site to pay their respects.

As Wright inscribed the stone, Odahviing sat nearby, its massive head shielding him from the scorching sun. Four small dragons lounged on its enormous back, basking in the sunlight.

Behind Wright stood three children—Darkseid, Sauron, and Lilith—studying the inscriptions with great curiosity. Darkseid, the eldest, had claimed there was magic within the stone, so despite not understanding the writing, the three pretended they could, excitedly gesturing and mimicking the symbols.

Nymeria, Tyene, and Kana descended the hillside, each carrying a large bouquet of wildflowers. They distributed the flowers to Wright and the children, and together, the seven of them laid the blooms before the two tombstones, conducting a simple funeral for Daenerys.

A breeze lifted Kana's golden hair. She had cut it short, now at shoulder length, just like Tyene's. However, while Tyene's hair was loose and voluminous, Kana's was sleek and straight.

"Why are you helping to build a tomb for your enemy and even bringing your family to mourn?" Kana asked.

Wright chuckled. "A powerful enemy is what makes one's own strength meaningful. If my foes were as weak as children, wouldn't that make my battles nothing more than child's play?"

"You did it to put those of Valyrian blood at ease, to show that you respect your opponents," Kana said, looking into his eyes.

Before Wright could reply, Nymeria suddenly embraced Kana tightly from behind. "Your children will be the leaders of the Valyrian people. Are you with child yet?"

Kana tilted her head back, smiling as she kissed Nymeria. "It's only been a few days. How could I possibly know so soon?"

"Let's get ready to leave. King's Landing is growing colder. We'll stop by Tyrosh first to pick up some clothes," Wright told the three women before running off to catch the children who were dashing around.

Meereen's defenses had been entrusted to the Valyrian army. The neighboring cities of Yunkai and Astapor, having suffered similar losses, did not dare make a move on Meereen for now. Only the orchards outside the city occasionally fell victim to Dothraki raids.

As Valyria received substantial payments for its military services, the Dragon Cult gradually infiltrated both Meereen's ruling class and its slave population. The city's population had been decimated, and restoring its former glory would take at least a generation—perhaps ten or more years.

Alternatively, large sums could be spent on acquiring slaves in bulk, though capturing, transporting, and training them would also take considerable time. According to Wright and the Valyrian nobility's calculations, it would take just five years to solidify control over Meereen entirely.

The Valyrians had no intention of investing in Meereen's development. Even in peacetime, their own lands were vast and sparsely populated, with plenty of territory awaiting cultivation. They saw Meereen only as a military stronghold and a buffer against the eastern city-states. In the future, it would become a purely military city.

---

The lockdown in King's Landing was being carried out in accordance with the law. Before the late king's funeral and the new king's coronation, order within the city had to be strictly maintained.

Thanks to the efforts of Robert and Wright in earlier years, crime had been significantly reduced—many criminals had been sent to serve in the army at Tyrosh or the Night's Watch on the Wall. The city's economy had also flourished, resulting in much improved public safety.

The current lockdown targeted only fugitives, vampires, and would-be criminals. Nobles and commoners could move in and out of King's Landing as freely as usual.

Wright's new apprentice, Rosamund Lannister, had originally planned to set sail for Tyrosh with the mages of the magic school. However, given the current state of affairs, those plans had been put on hold. She and her parents had been temporarily housed at the academy.

A week earlier, after Lord Renly of Storm's End arrived in King's Landing, Rosamund and her parents had been invited to stay at his residence. To Renly, Wright's apprentice was family—what did it matter if she bore the name Lannister?

Rosamund's father may have been a Lannister by name, but there were too many Lannisters in the world. His knighthood had been earned during the siege of Tyrosh, and he barely earned a modest salary working in the ports and military. His life was only marginally better than that of a commoner.

Inside the lavish private residence, Renly, his wife Margaery, their child, seven armored nobles, and Rosamund's family sat around a long table, having lunch.

Faced with the grand feast, usually seen only at royal banquets, Rosamund and her parents hesitated, unsure how to proceed. After taking only a few bites, her parents stood, respectfully saluted Renly and the others, and excused themselves to return to their room.

"Brienne, bring some fresh food to their quarters later," Margaery said softly with a smile.

"Yes, my lady!"

In Renly's Rainbow Guard, Brienne was specifically responsible for Margaery's safety. Only she, as a fellow woman, and Margaery's brother, Loras, were allowed to enter Margaery's chambers without Renly's direct order.

Margaery watched the nervous young girl, who didn't seem to know where to place her hands. She lifted Lyonel from his chair after he had finished eating and invited the girl to sit beside her.

The little boy's feet had barely touched the ground before he bolted toward the hall's exit, eager to see the two dragons in the courtyard. Robar Royce, sitting nearby, barely hesitated before abandoning his meal. Though there were other guards outside, he still felt uneasy. Grabbing a chunk of meat and stuffing it into his mouth, he swung his red cloak behind him and hurried after Lyonel.

Renly's original four-man guard had expanded into a seven-man force, each wearing a different-colored cloak, earning them the name Rainbow Guard. Each of the seven also commanded a ten-man squad.

Most noblemen only traveled with large entourages on important occasions. On regular days, they rarely had more than a dozen retainers. Renly, however, never moved without seventy sworn guards. Maintaining such a force was a luxury only someone as wealthy as he could afford. He had even purchased the neighboring estate to use as additional barracks.

Ser Loras remained the captain of the guard, wearing a white cloak. In addition to leading the Rainbow Guard, he also served as Renly's personal steward, ensuring he had unrestricted access to the Lord's chambers. Ser Brienne donned a blue cloak and, as the only other woman, was naturally tasked with Margaery's personal protection.

Ser Robar Royce wore armor of red bronze, so he chose a red cloak. Ser Parmen Crane, whose armor bore purple plum decorations, opted for a purple cloak. The two knights took turns watching over Renly's young son, Lyonel.

The first four had claimed the cushiest duties. The three knights who joined later were left with the arduous task of tending the dragons.

Ser Bryce Caron of Nightsong now wore an orange cloak. He had lost his parents, siblings, and all his sisters during the harsh winter of 289, leaving him the sole survivor of his family. His only living relative was a half-brother, a bastard named Rolland Storm.

Nightsong, situated in the southern Stormlands near Dorne, once served as a key stronghold guarding the Prince's Pass. But with Dorne now unified under Wright, the fortress had lost its military significance. Renly had advised Bryce to develop it into a prosperous waystation, charging merchants for lodging. However, being more of a warrior than a businessman, Bryce chose to serve as Renly's sworn guard instead.

The knight in the yellow cloak was Ser Emmon Cuy of the Reach. His armor was engraved with sunflowers, and he was the only one among them who wielded a battle-axe. The Cuys were sworn knights of House Hightower, and Loras had introduced him to Renly per his family's wishes.

The last of the seven, clad in a green cloak, was Guyard Morrigen, the third brother of Lord Lester Morrigen of Crow's Nest. The oldest among them, he often claimed to be a minstrel. While his instrumental skills were decent, his singing voice made everyone want to punch him.

Now that Renly had two dragons of his own, serving as his sworn guard was considered an honor. Unlike the Kingsguard, they had never sworn vows of celibacy. So how should the seven of them divide their prestige? Naturally, through combat.

Loras, being the son of a Lord and Renly's brother-in-law, had access to relentless magical training under Renly's guidance. His skill surpassed the others, securing his position as captain.

Brienne, despite being looked down upon by the three newcomers for being a woman, claimed the second rank. Her sheer size and strength intimidated even men. After receiving a thorough beating, they had no choice but to accept her superiority.

Robar and Parmen, both hardened by Loras's brutal training, vied for third and fourth place. The three newcomers ranked at the bottom.

The dining table was massive—Renly's was even grander. Seated near Margaery were several unmarried ladies of House Tyrell.

Margaery pinched the pale cheek of the young girl beside her. "Have you had your first moonblood?"

Rosamund's face flushed red with embarrassment as she shook her head.

"Heh, Margaery, are you already matchmaking for her?"

"She's still young, I'm just thinking about it."

The women giggled, teasing the blushing girl.

Just then, a guard entered and stood beside Renly. "My lord, a large fleet has been spotted off the coast of Blackwater Bay—both merchant vessels and warships."

"Oh? Have you identified their banners?" Renly dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief. "If the royal fleet isn't engaging them and has allowed them into the bay, then they must be allies."

The guard hesitated. "My lord, the sentries at the port don't recognize the flags on those ships."

Renly asked, "What are the colors of their hulls and sails? How many ships are there?"

"They're all white. The estimated number is around two hundred ships."

Renly turned to Loras. "With this expansion of the guard, it's not just combat training they need—they must also learn more about heraldry and naval insignia. White ships, white sails, and unfamiliar sigils, yet they can't even recognize my brother's fleet!"

"Some of them are illiterate, but they've improved a lot," Loras chuckled, waving the guardsman away. "You may go."

"Has Wright arrived?" Margaery joined the conversation.

Renly replied, "He'll probably be a few days late. This is the first time the newly appointed nobles of the Stepstones are coming to King's Landing. I'll visit Stannis later and have him arrange a feast."

"Then I'll take Rosamund to meet them," Margaery said. Given Rosamund's special status, the Reach nobility would arrive a few days later. With nothing else to do, Margaery saw this as the perfect opportunity to establish ties with her.

That afternoon, Margaery, along with Alla, Elinor, and Megga—four ladies of House Tyrell—brought Rosamund to the newly expanded port. Brienne, along with ten guards, formed a protective circle around them, keeping passersby at bay.

The sails were furled, and the vast number of white-sailed ships filled most of the new harbor, crowding the floating piers.

"Do the Tyroshi have this many ships?" Rosamund, standing by the stone railing, pointed at the bustling port below.

"This is only about two hundred. If all the Tyroshi merchant and warships came to King's Landing, they'd fill the entire harbor!" Alla Tyrell said, as if boasting.

The Tyroshi had been relentlessly building ships and had even purchased Myr's entire fleet. They now commanded the third-largest navy on the continent, behind only the Royal Fleet and the Redwyne Fleet. If one counted longships that could carry just a dozen men, the Iron Islands still held the top spot.

Margaery pointed at a ship that had begun unloading its cargo. "Half of the vessels here are merchant ships. Look at the small flag atop the mast. That green turtle with a blue ribbon tied around its head belongs to Lord Andrew Estermont of Green Turtle Hall."

The girls turned their attention to the docks, where dozens of young men, loitering like common ruffians, suddenly swarmed an elaborately dressed noble who had just stepped off the ship, greeting him with such enthusiasm that one might have mistaken him for their long-lost father.

"Is that Andrew Estermont?" Rosamund seemed uneasy around the rough-looking men.

Margaery patted her head. "He's your teacher's cousin. He oversees intelligence. If you ever want to know anything, go to him."

Rosamund remained apprehensive.

"That over there is Lord Gunthor Hightower of Crabkeep, Lord Gendry of Crane Hill, and Lord Allard Seaworth of Stormport," Margaery continued, pointing to more figures disembarking from different ships and gathering at the pier. "See that blue seahorse banner atop the mast? If the ship has black sails, it belongs to House Velaryon of Driftmark. If it has white sails, it's House Velaryon of Seagull Isle. That silver-haired young man over there is Aurane Velaryon, commander of the Northern Fleet of the Stepstones, overseeing hundreds of warships."

Rosamund watched the noblemen gathering on the dock, laughing and conversing. Each was accompanied by a large retinue of attendants, their armor adorned with the sigils of their respective houses, banners fluttering in the sea breeze—a truly imposing sight.

"What are all these lords doing just standing around?"

A loud female voice rang out. Rosamund turned toward the source and saw a warrior woman, carrying her helmet under her arm, clad in black armor with two swords strapped to her back. She strode toward the docks, leading a large group of women.

"Who is she?" Rosamund's eyes widened.

"The current wielder of Dawn, Ashara Dayne. You'll be suffering under her tutelage quite a bit in the future," Margaery said with a hint of sympathy. Wright preferred to be lazy when teaching magic—once he finished the theoretical lessons, he tended to disappear, leaving most of the practical training to Ashara.

"The woman beside her is Maester Sarella of Tyrosh. The one with the battle-axe at her waist is Asha Greyjoy. The one with the hawk on her shoulder is the mage Meredyth Crane. And the girl with the direwolf at her feet should be Sansa Stark, though why is she wearing a white mask?"

"Ladies first." Aurane courteously stepped aside to let the ladies through.

"Haha, let's get moving then!" Gunthor urged the sailors unloading cargo to pick up the pace.

"I've been waiting here just for you," Gendry said, staring at Ashara with a dazed expression.

"Ashara, I challenge you to a duel!" Andrew Estermont rolled up his sleeves as he spoke.

Ashara glanced at him. "How many of you this time?"

Andrew spread his hands wide, stretching his fingers to their fullest.

"Forget it. Even if you had ten people, I wouldn't bet on you winning this time," Aurane patted Ynsmon's shoulder, shook his head, and walked ahead.

Gunthor stepped up to Andrew. "I'm betting on Ashara to win."

Gendry didn't even spare Andrew a glance as he moved to Ashara's side. "You know I've always supported you."

"Mhm!" Ashara smiled brightly, raising an arm to rest on Gendry's shoulder.

The group bantered as they made their way toward the port.

On the distant docks, more people continued to disembark from the ships. The growing crowd at the port soon attracted curious onlookers from King's Landing.

They were dressed quite differently from other nobles. While the nobility's armor, regardless of material, bore elaborate engravings, the navy in chainmail and the army in plate all carried uniform battle-axes.

A hundred-strong unit marched down from one of the warships, all of them towering figures clad in pale gold armor with long golden cloaks. Their helmets bore antler-shaped decorations, and they carried massive two-handed battle-axes on their backs, marching in perfect formation.

But what truly caught the attention of the gathered crowd was something else—just like the Dornish, nearly half of these warriors were women. Whispers spread among the spectators.

"I thought Tyrosh was so poor they could only afford to eat crabs?"