These Westerosi lords, Daegon mused to himself as he traveled the ship's interior. They are so.... Strange.

The Tournament had opened his eyes to the way the different kingdoms decided to wage war upon one another. Dornish would use Spears. Reach traded for brute force. Be mindful of the gap between a dornishman and yourself The North were far more of a stockier sort. Shock Infantry with a lack of horsemen to follow. Avoid the wolve's bite. Take his hindlegs before his head. But the ones that surprised him the most were the ones who dubbed themselves "The Iron Kings." Harras Hoare was a ruthless man. Even in these battles that were merely for sport he pulled no punches. He even crushed his own Bannerman's arm....

The sickening crunch which accompanied the blow Lord Blackwood suffered echoed in his mind.

The man's not to be trusted.

Knocking upon the door, he entered the queen's private cabin once she bid him in. She had traded her queen's regalia for one of a commander's. No longer was she the gentle, courteous queen of his people. She was a soldier now.

"Rhaenys," he said with a smile. He hid his astonishment as he produced the map of Essos she requested. If war were to be waged, emotions would need to be set aside. Love blooming on a battlefield tend to get one killed.

"These Westerosi seemed interesting." He began. "Some, such as the Reachmen, may be able to be trusted." He smiled as he remembered the Gardener and his daughter. Though he seemed to not take much interest in Daegon, his makeshift gift was sure to put the man in Dragonstone's good graces. Not to mention we both share the same foes.

"Others, however..." Daegon shook his head. "The Northmen are far too impulsive to pursue diplomacy with. They would soon drag us through a war over a small jape if we decided to align ourselves with them. The Iron Islanders are not to be trusted either. Look at what Harras did to one of his own bannerman." He sighed. "That man may never use that arm again, my queen. And he was a Westerosi. Like him.

"As for Essos..."

He unrolled the map, placing the markers as she requested.

"The cities of Valyria are now fighting one another, from what i've told. It's a terrible fight. Bodies are piling up by the day. Some of the men say that the free cities are dubbing the years following Valyria's demise 'The Bleeding Years.' "

He tapped the table, lost in thought.

"No dragons are involved, thankfully."