Astapor, the southernmost slave city in Slaver's Bay.
Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor, three colonial city-states of the Ghiscari Empire, stood in a triangular formation along the shores of Slaver's Bay.
Compared to Yunkai, more than a hundred leagues away, Meereen was actually closer to Astapor, at a distance of only about fifty leagues.
So before panic over Yunkai's erasure from the world could spread this far, news of Meereen's fall had already reached the Good Masters.
At that moment, the Good Masters sat around a long table in their ornate Tokar robes, their faces ashen.
A letter passed from hand to hand, its edges already creased by their fingers.
At last, a Good Master with a pointed beard spoke first. "Daenerys, that 'slave's daughter,' has found herself an ally somewhere. Perhaps it's that Dragonlord rumored to have risen in the Disputed Lands."
Before he had finished, other Good Masters chimed in, their voices laden with mockery and abuse.
"Those two bastards! Instead of tending to their Western Continent, they've come to Slaver's Bay to fight us!"
"Those useless fools in Meereen couldn't even hold out for a day."
"Enough." The pointed-bearded Good Master raised a hand to silence the clamor. "Meereen has already fallen. Let's discuss what we should do now."
"Before, there was only Daenerys Targaryen and three dragons that weren't all that large. We could still handle them. Now they say the ally she's brought in has a dragon as big as a mountain."
A fat Good Master wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "We should maintain closer contact with Yunkai and New Ghis. Have Yunkai hire more mercenary companies, and have New Ghis send troops as well."
Another picked up the thread. "We also need to contact the Dothraki khals. Khal Drogo commands the strongest