The winds howled outside the high towers of Qohor as Empress Auria stood before the gathered lords and warriors of her makeshift court. The last vestiges of Valyria’s greatness had crumbled, and the Freehold had been reduced to nothing but a shadow in history. Auria, the last dragonrider known to them, gazed out upon the men and women who had flocked to her cause, each of them seeking something they had lost or could never have.

“This world has burned. Our legacy, our empire, our dragons—gone. But I stand before you, the last of our blood, to offer you not just survival, but greatness. The Freehold has fallen, yes, but we shall rebuild it. We shall reclaim Valyria—the land of fire and flame, the cradle of our power. I will lead us into a new era, a true empire. You will not serve under councils and weak minded fools any longer. I shall be your empress, and under my rule, we will burn the world in our image into the empire of Valyria.”

She paused, letting the silence fill the room.

“Who among you will join me? Who will ride with me into the heart of Valyria and claim what was once ours? Glory, riches, power... all these will be yours. A new age of dragons awaits. The Freehold will rise again... under my banner.” The first then stepped up, a noble from a dragonless house.