The Phantom sat upon a raised loft, overlooking her patrons, a goblet of the finest Dornish vintage in hand, a book resting in her lap. Candlelight cast flickering shadows across her domain as she read, occasionally lifting the goblet to her lips. Her gaze drifted to the beaded curtains, where, from the shadows, she could watch the ebb and flow of the room below.

War raged between five kings, each vying for the Iron Throne, while across the Narrow Sea, a self-proclaimed queen gathered strength. But war bred opportunity. There was coin to be made, and power to seize..