[Plot-Result] Myrish Lenses Magnify on Westeros

After a couple of months of planning, and waiting, Lord Gerold Dayne was finally able to climb the rungs of the Myrish political ladder to approach a very influential Magister of the City-State.Gerold was ushered into a mansion full of gadgets, paintings, and a legion of well-to-do slaves going about their daily tasks.Tychapho Hotyris sat at his desk. He wore a deep red tunic, his fingers glittered with an uncountable number of rings as he sat back in his large chair that almost touched the roof.Three slaves stood in the room with Tychapho and Gerold: A wiry man with long blonde hair that draped over his high cheekbones and glasses, a smug and round gentleman who gazed upon the Dayne with a raised chin, and a brown-haired woman who wore a thin purple dress.Tychapho said something in Valyrian, "Vala hen morghe zaldrīzoti, skoro syt gaomagon ao māzigon?" leaning back even farther as he stated his last word and began to gaze upon the Dayne with studious eyes.