AGOT A CENTURY OF BLOOD FREE

вЂњSpeak child, do not keep us waiting.вЂќ Aurion stared at his son, while Daario sighed, doubting anything would come of the so called visions. вЂњDisturbing ones, father.вЂќ Aeryn shuddered for a moment, but his smile soon came back to his face. The childвЂ™s Dragon Dreams had not manifested themselves in weeks, but the Emperor did not lose hope. Did the night bring any visions?вЂќ AurionвЂ™s eyes gleamed as he looked at his son. вЂњFather!вЂќ Aeryn did not even bow to the Emperor, but the elder Varezys did not seem to mind. More accursed Valyrian magic, in DaarioвЂ™s opinion. The Magister sighed, guessing the child had received another of his Dragon Dreams. Aeryn Varezys either did not notice Daario sitting in the middle of the room, or simply chose to ignore the man, instead heading straight for his father, a wide smile stamped on his face. Or rather, a child.Дecked in a dark tunic, trimmed in red thread, the newcomerвЂ™s ashen hair he had inherited from his father flowed atop his shoulders like a mane, partially hiding his motherвЂ™s light grey eyes that nonetheless exuded wisdom far beyond his years. Perchance the Volantene know moreвЂ¦вЂќ Daario began, unwilling to risk his dragon riding allyвЂ™s life, and hoping to steer the conversation towards the New Valyrian Freehold, but was interrupted by the appearance of a third man. Flakes of plaster snowed on his black tunic. вЂњCurses!вЂќ the Emperor slammed a fist on the MagisterвЂ™s wall.

Daario smiled at the Varezys condescendingly, showing him he understood his grief. You Valyrians have called this upon yourselves. More likely some dragonlord magic gone awry. And they say the Peninsula is no longer, that the eruption has fractured it into islands.вЂќД®ruption. Those that have gone near Valyria speak of ashes and smoke, of a darkened sky. вЂњNone have ventured into the Valyrian Peninsula?вЂќ вЂњNone bearing tidings you would be interested in.вЂќ the Magister sighed, then added: вЂњMy Lord Emperor.вЂќ вЂњDamn it.вЂќ Aurion finally stopped walking. Others look in terror at the Valyrian, fearful that the fall of the Freehold might only herald the ascent of the Empire. Some scoff at his attempts, sure that he will meet his end in the smoking ruins left by the Doom.

To the City of Sorcerers, Qohor of the Black Goat, where the dragonlord Aurion, atop his golden dragon Elenixes, vows to retake his homeland, assuming the title of Emperor of Valyria. It is to the North, however, that one must look. In the South, Valyria's 'eldest daughter', the City of Volantis, aims to take her mother's place as the Triarchs attempt to forge a New Valyrian Freehold. In the West, the Exile, dragonlord Aenar Targaryen, rules the bleak isle of Dragonstone, on the shores of Westeros, a continent engulfed in the constant war between the Sunset Kingdoms.

AGOT A CENTURY OF BLOOD FREE

In the East, the power vacuum left by the fall of the Freehold emboldens the Dothraki hordes, who now have free reign over the steppes and menace the now orphaned 'daughters of Valyria'. All over the continent, the remaining dragon riders are, one after the other, slain by the people they once lorded over, their beasts rampaging free in the countryside. The flames have engulfed the ancient city and it's surroundings, burning to ashes both men and dragons, marking the end of Valyrian dominance over Essos. The simultaneous eruption of the Fourteen Fires has shattered the Peninsula whence the dragonlords had once ruled the world, enslaving and conquering without opposition. вЂ‹ Doom befalls Valyria, and the Century of Blood begins.

Agot a century of blood