In the Godswood of Winterfell, Lord Eddard Stark was cleaning his greatsword, Ice, when he received the news from his wife, Catelyn.
His foster father, the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, had passed away.
This was undoubtedly a heavy blow to Ned.
"The letter also says the King is on his way to Winterfell. He wants to discuss affairs of state with you." Catelyn waited for her husband to recover slightly from the shock before continuing.
Affairs of state?
Lord Stark forced a bitter smile. He could guess the purpose of this visit.
Just moments ago, he had been worrying about the "wildlings" beyond the Wall. Now, it seemed, those concerns would have to be delayed again.
I wonder what kind of monster will grow from this delay, the Lord of Winterfell thought, gazing north with deep concern. Winter is coming, and the wildlings will surely march south...
---
"Damn! Everyone else is getting titles and promotions, and here we are, still stuck with the 'Mercenary' tag, playing a childish game of tag with these bandits!"
The Velvet Hills, Essos.
The joint forces of the four guilds, having just survived a fierce battle, were resting in the camp of an unknown brotherhood.
Player Sister_In_Law had lost his left hand in the fight, but that didn't stop him from sitting next to the four Guild Leaders and complaining non-stop.
"Speaking of which, all the Magisters in Pentos are dead. Who's gonna pay our commission?" Zhao Xiaotian, who had recently joined the alliance, wiped his sword on his knees and voiced the concern on everyone's mind.
"Our King, obviously. Who else?" Pineapple_Pizza_Lover said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Haha, if His Grace refuses to pay, we'll give him the 'Late Tang Dynasty Warlord' treatment," Salty_Egg, sitting next to Zhao Xiaotian, joked.
Because the game had a medieval-fantasy setting, Salty_Egg had buried himself in books whenever he wasn't online. He read everything from history to mythology, East and West. Now, quoting historical precedents came naturally to him.
Storm_Dominator and Nebula_Breaker didn't care about Gold Dragons. They were only here for the settlement rewards after completing the mission.
"Those bastards are back!" a lookout shouted in alarm.
The players, whose butts had barely warmed the ground, cursed angrily as they grabbed their weapons and stood up to fight.
Outside the camp, a group of outlaws—looking no different from mountain clansmen or wildlings—raised their crude weapons, attempting to retake their camp.
"Bunch of mongrels!" Storm_Dominator stood up, spat a mouthful of bloody saliva, and gripped his longsword, staring at the half-bandit, half-civilian Andal rabble.
"Prepare for battle!" Nebula_Breaker shouted.
---
Illyrio's Estate. Now the temporary palace of King Viserys III.
In the garden pavilion.
Ser Jorah stood dutifully behind the King, as always.
He watched silently as a ship captain stood respectfully before the King. The man had brought three armed merchant ships to pledge loyalty and seek a position.
Groleo, captain of the merchant ship Saduleon. An old captain and seasoned sailor with over a decade of experience navigating the seas around Pentos.
According to him, he used to transport spices and mead across the Narrow Sea for Magister Illyrio—the same Magister the King had executed.
Captain Groleo had been drinking his days away in a Pentoshi brothel, planning to sail only after spending his last copper. But upon hearing that King Viserys had led an army to kill the Prince and the Magisters, seizing Pentos for himself...
He decisively came to pledge his allegiance, offering the Saduleon, the Summer Sun, and the Joso's Prank in exchange for a position.
"In the name of King Viserys III of House Targaryen, I accept your loyalty. I appoint you as Vice Admiral of the Royal Navy. Your three ships shall be incorporated into the Royal Navy's battle order."
Viserys held great respect for this captain, who in the original story died for his sister. Besides, the man brought three warships.
That was already much better than that traitor Pymber.
"Thank you for your trust, Your Grace," Groleo said, very satisfied with the position of Vice Admiral. Grateful, the yet-to-be-sworn-in Vice Admiral spoke again:
"Your Grace, I have another gift I wish to present to you."
Viserys responded, "Then I thank you in advance for your generosity, my Admiral."
Groleo placed a hand on his chest and bowed, then waved to his subordinate waiting outside the pavilion.
The sailor immediately picked up a chest at his feet, walked into the pavilion with his head lowered, placed the chest before the King, and hurriedly retreated.
Groleo approached the chest and opened it himself, revealing the gift inside to the King.
Dragon Eggs!
Viserys's pupils contracted when he saw the contents. Three dragon eggs lay quietly in the sand within the chest.
"Your Grace, these are dragon eggs from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai," Groleo explained.
"Of course, although they are still beautiful, they are merely fossils. Fossils that have weathered thousands of years.
"But even as fossils, I—who robb... cough, bought them from a dragon bone merchant—believe they belong only to the blood of the True Dragon."
"I am truly grateful for your generosity. When I retake the Iron Throne, House Targaryen will never mistreat a loyal subject like you."
So, in this timeline, Illyrio's three dragon eggs actually came through Groleo's hands.
Viserys withdrew his gaze from the eggs and looked at Groleo, his expression softening even more.
This undoubtedly made Groleo feel that he had made the right choice.
"Of course! Your Grace will surely storm back to the Seven Kingdoms, retaking King's Landing and the Iron Throne! The nobles and smallfolk of the Seven Kingdoms are secretly sewing dragon banners, awaiting your return!"
Groleo's timely flattery brought a smile to Viserys's lips.
After the Vice Admiral left to assume his post at the harbor...
Viserys looked at the Kingsguard behind him:
"Ser Jorah, please take these dragon eggs to my sister, Daenerys, for safekeeping."
Having spent time in the Free Cities, Jorah had seen fossilized dragon eggs before. To modern eyes, they were just beautiful ornaments—valuable, but nothing to be surprised about.
Ser Jorah stepped forward, picked up the chest, bowed to the King, and slowly backed out of the pavilion.
"Who's that guy?"
Mouse_Is_Duck, Intelligence Assistant, Director of the Royal Secret Police, and Guild Leader of the Brotherhood Without Banners, passed Groleo on the path.
Looking at the man's back, Mouse—who was fully immersed in his role as spy chief—asked his deputy, Flying_Bat.
"A captain who's sometimes a merchant, sometimes a pirate. Heard His Grace took Pentos, so he brought three ships and a few hundred men to join up today.
"Look at that grin on his face, like a blooming chrysanthemum. Probably got himself a cushy job."
Flying_Bat, now appointed Chief of the Action Division, replied in a low, expressionless voice.
Since taking office, he had kept a stone face for over ten in-game hours.
When people asked if he was tired of holding that face...
He would always ask back:
"Don't I look like Zheng Yaoxian from The Kite?"