Melisandre 5

290AC

They had visited Qohor before, once, when she was younger she remembered, just after getting Viserys and Daenerys. The city was enormous, full of stonework and smokestacks which burned day and night for foundries which produced half of the steel in the Free Cities. Slaves constantly pulled great geared mechanisms which drove enormous hammers that beat like the footsteps of elephants to shape and mold the material to the master black-smiths' wills.

The streets were suffused in a thin covering of soot at all times, and black-clad men and women marched back and forth across them, their skin pale and gaunt, though not unnaturally so as some of the denizens of Asshai.

The Old woman had taken them first to the temple of R'hllor, a great dome supported by spiraling pillars that rose above the Grey city, smaller only than the temple of the Black Goat at its center, which was forged of dragonglass, and seemed to devour the light of the area around it.

It was physically repulsive to look at it for too long, and soon her eyes turned back to the R'hllorite bastion, which the Old Woman was even now stepping our from, looking quite satisfied. Behind her stood Viserys, passive and silent, with his eyes fixed straight forward.

He walked behind her like a bodyguard, albeit one who wished to plunge his dagger into her back.

"I take it your meeting went well mother?"

"Yes…" the Old Woman nodded, giving one of her grins. "Old Lysander is a coward, but not a fool, he has a strong network of contacts in the city's nobility, and has arranged us a meeting with one of the Smith-Lords."

Melisandre stood, drawing Daenerys up with her, though the girl still preferred to position herself so that Melisandre was between herself and her brother.

"Where shall we be going then, Mother?"

"To the Foundry-Palace of Lord Aurion."

They progressed through the soot-choked streets to the noble district, where the buildings were grander, and carved with reliefs of the Black Goat and its many spawn, as well as the deeds and successes of the families which dwelled and worked within them. Here there were fewer smithies, compared to the rest of the city, but the ones that remained were simply enormous, multiple stories tall and ringed with dozens of smokestacks that towered above all hut the temples of the city, and all spewed great towers of ash into the midday sky.

The palace of Aurion was one amongst these, it's foundation was a deep black Basalt, and it's structure wad dark granite and limestone, with great carvings of men and horses at war wrought into its walls. They had to climb many stairs in order to reach its cold grey doors, where the Old Woman announced their arrival.

The servants let them inside, where they waited a few minutes in a sparsely decorated lounge, for it seemed that the Qohorish but more effort into their architecture and it's grandiose type than they did to small things such as luxury or comfort. The whole room was full of the sound of grinding gears and of hammers that echoed through the halls of the palace.

When Aurion approached, it was not with a retinue, but rather as a tall lone young man, dressed in a simple but finely made black robe.

"Greetings to the servants of R'hllor." He said, lifting his hand, in a gesture of welcome, before turning to the Old Woman. "I understand that you have a request to make of me, and perhaps of the city proper?"

"Indeed," the Old Woman said, nodding as she met his gaze with her blind eyes. "A multitude of things truly, some of which may quite benefit your city in the future."

"It is not my city," the man said, taking a seat across from her and allowing her to sit down. "But I do wield some influence here, it is true, and Lysander speaks well of you. Come, tell me what you wish of me, and I shall consider it."

"We wish to craft an… alliance of sorts, a force to unite the free cities against the power which now grows in Westeros. I do not have a name for it yet, but it comes with the storm clouds and drowns out our fires, no doubt your own seers have felt the same presence."

"The seers of the Black Goat are infallible, they have mentioned no such disturbance," Aurion said, his eyes turning hard, then softening slightly. "But I will question them on it. Please, continue."

"Perhaps their eyes have simply not turned that far west as of late." The Old Woman said in an accommodating tone. "Regardless, we would like this alliance to stand between Volantis and Qohor, to form together an army to overtake the other free-cities."

"You want a new Century of Blood?" The Smith-Lords raised his eyebrow. "How will this benefit Qohor?"

"Norvos and Lorath will be yours, perhaps Braavos too, though that is… more difficult."

"And I suppose Volantis will have the rest?"

"Yes." The woman nodded.

"How will you do this?" The man asked. "The Elephants have a tight grip on Volantis."

"Indeed, but not so tight that the cult of R'hllor has not been able to grow there." The Old woman gave the young lord a wide grin as she gestured to Viserys behind her. "And not so firm that Dragonblood cannot break it."

As Lord Aurion's eyes flashed with realization and ambition, turning to glance at the armored youth, a small smile crept onto his face.

"I think it is likely that we can work something out."