The Golden Path
Twenty-Eighth Day of the Seventh Month 293 AC
At the appointed hour you rise from your seat and move towards the front of the receiving hall. Once there you gently tap the glass of pear brandy in your hand with a finger, amplifying the pure silvery note with magic.
Only the finest Myrish props for your play. You can just make out the faint ghost of a smile on Lady Uraka's face as she watches you play to your new subjects. It would be impolitic to add Braavos to the show, and given her temperament she likely approves of the lack.
"My lords and ladies, if you will please follow me..." you motion towards the tall elegant cypresswood doors, bare save the simple goldenwood border. Hopefully your Tyroshi subjects will take it and the rest of the complex for inspiration.
Thus in a somewhat ragged single line you lead your guests down the corridors of the terminus. Most of it is shaped of pale granite since it had been the quickest and cheapest option available, but given the powers of the stone fey who molded it Dany and Lya saw no reason not to add the odd restrained 'neo-Valyrian' flourish. The style new to Sorcerer's Deep could best be described as what might happen if a Braavosi architect had a passion for Lyseni architecture.
You wonder how many of your guest are paying attention to the tracks. Rhango you would wager, but however enlightened he may be stone houses mean little to him. Perhaps the Myrish delegation also, they had sent masters of the guild, used to witnessing works of artifice sorcery with an analytical eye.
The hum of conversation falls silent as you come to the terminus proper under its great dome with one entrance line and nine sending lines flanked by arches where the carriages would slide in to activate their Wheels of Far Travel. For now there is only one destination fixed against the vagaries of the wheel's magic, just as this terminus is.
You watch in silence as the first official carriage from the Xorn materializes and slides in place for unloading. Only once they have taken in the arcane spectacle do you turn to speak to your assembled guests: "Citizens. Distinguished guests. Naval-men, Legionnaires, warriors. Today, we stand before an ocean larger than all the seas of this world together. Cities more populous than Volantis and Braavos combined. Lands filled by demons, castles in the clouds, and enough dark wizards to feed a God to bursting."
Most of the legionnaires smile and their captains besides them, but only Tyene and Hermetia dare to giggle at the thought of blood sacrifice. Rhango looks... interested.
"You've heard the tales of monsters, fool's gold, and tricksters hunting for mortal souls with twisted bargains," you continue in a more serious tone, though without the grimness you usually give such news. This is, after all, a time of celebration and victory. "You've seen the specter of ruin come to our lands, perhaps brought by armies clad in molten flame or simple gold plentiful enough to make the livelihoods of all worthless. And of course, there are the plays about the dangers of passages leading beyond this world and the difficulty of closing them—some of which still have more truth than flattery in them! All here know how hard I myself have fought against such things in the past."
By now, plays about your exploits in Mantarys are likely common enough that most present will either have seen them in person or heard of them, and indeed no one seems disbelieving of your words. "Yet this was built at my command. It was built in the belief that no matter how mighty their armies, even lands of giants and mighty spell-weavers can be turned into profit."
That is enough to get a cheer even from so polite and tepid gathering. Wealth these men and women know well, whether it be disgorged in their ports or plundered in the wake of a successful raid. "Yes, their merchants bargain with sorcery. Their bandits fear neither blade nor bow. Their kings have ruled since before the Free Cities were built, and even their lesser tribes thrive in lands where mortal men would die in moments. But today mankind stands together, without divides to prey upon and with mages to shield our traders. Here stand a Dothraki Khal and a Braavosi Keyholder, sharing concerns and not blades, standing stronger in the face of the inhuman than they could alone!"
As you speak these words you wonder how many of your guests understand them, how many understand the depth of your ambition, to rule more widely than any lord who has ever been, perhaps some day even to unite the world entire. In the end it matters little. They will see in time. So on you speak on: "Both see the danger—but both see the opportunity, coming hand in hand. All captains here know that the further the port lies, the richer the voyage will be. Beyond the edge of our world, our homes are not just another prize among others: we are called dwellers of a Garden, a place of safety and delights unknown to even immortal spirits. For every myth of cities paved with gold, they have tales of lands where wines worthy of kings are grown. Shellfish for those who dwell in all-consuming fire and have never seen the sea. Cotton and silks for dwellers in a land of eternal stone."
The promise you weave seems to hold them spellbound more surely than any spell ever could, for verily this is wealth beyond the dreams of avarice and yet they begin to believe.
"And what shall we have in return?" You pause to catch the eye of as many of the more alert and thoughtful of those present. "With a little caution and shrewd bargaining as we've all done before, wonders undreamt of by mortals who cannot journey to these crystal palaces. The sorceries they would turn on us, brought to bear against shared enemies. Secrets of stone-shaping to build roads across the world, gems beyond mortal ken, and even art to warm a dragon's heart—all that and more can be found in the halls of the Shaitan and the Djinn, our allies and trading partners both."
You are pleased to see a hint of recognition in the eyes of many present, and not only among those who dwell in the Deep or Lady Uraka.
Good, the Three Daughters will have need of their famed shrewdness, even as the cruelty will hopefully pass from the world. "So let us raise our cups tonight, not to drink away the worry and the fear of the horrors that can be found beyond this world, but in hope and appreciation of the marvels. And the wealth, of course." So saying you raise the glass still in your hand in a toast, mimicked by all present. Then as one you drink, hope finer and more heady than wine upon the tongue.
What do you do next?
[] Financial decisions
-[] Write in
[] Report on summoning and devil capture
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: In the end I decided to go with the initial idea for the terminus. It both makes more sense with the spells you have and feels more original than a gate. I'll edit the bit with the Xorn to have them get into a carriage.