Braavos's Ambition, Medieval Trade Alliance, Faceless Men

Braavos.

This secret city of a hundred islands lay shrouded in thick sea fog all year round.

The Sealord's Palace stood at the highest point of the islands, overlooking the purple harbor and the enormous Titan.

Inside the palace.

Braavos's most powerful figures sat around a massive round table of redwood.

Sealord Ferrego Antaryon sat at the head of the table.

He wore a deep-purple velvet robe, his fingers covered in gemstone rings.

Across from him and along both sides sat the keyholders of the Iron Bank.

They controlled the greatest wealth in the world. Every decision they made could raise a kingdom up or bring one crashing down.

The atmosphere was oppressive, broken only by the sound of waves crashing against the rocks outside.

"The situation in the Seven Kingdoms is terrible."

One of the keyholders broke the silence first.

He was a fat man with short, thick fingers, tapping anxiously on the table.

"According to the latest intelligence, the Iron Throne has practically changed hands."

"Robert Baratheon's throne is on the verge of collapse. You could even say his crown has already fallen."

The fat keyholder turned, giving Sealord Ferrego Antaryon a pointed look.

"Your Excellency Sealord, what about the Iron Bank's debt?"

"That is three million Gold Dragons."

"If Robert Baratheon falls and the new king refuses to acknowledge the debt, this bad debt alone will deal the Iron Bank a severe blow."

Another keyholder joined in, his tone sharp.

"Shouldn't you reflect on this?"

"Why did you transport those mercenaries with the Braavosi fleet for one hundred thousand Gold Dragons?"

"That was obviously helping Robert Baratheon's enemy."

"He has every reason to use that as an excuse to delay repayment, or even refuse it altogether."

Sealord Ferrego Antaryon leaned back in his chair, gently turning the