When sixteen-year-old Drax Silverthorne falls asleep after a night spent playing as a Black Prior, he doesn't wake to a game; he awakens in the blood-soaked world of Game of Thrones. Thrown into Braavos as an unwanted orphan sold by his own family, he has nothing but a harsh survival system, the knowledge of a military nerd, and a sealed egg belonging to a forgotten line of dragons. There are no game shortcuts, no godlike powers, and no heroism waiting to save him. If he wants to live, he must earn every coin through cunning, every skill through pain, and every piece of influence through calculated risk. From the shadows of the streets to the vaults of the Iron Bank, Drax begins building foundations meant not for survival, but for conquest. Through steel, fire, manipulation, and strategy, he will not follow the game of thrones. He will rewrite it. A stranger to this world. A black shield in the dark. The first king who will build an empire instead of inheriting one. Welcome to the rise of the Black Dragon.

Maegon Waters, the bastsard son of Maekar Targaryen born just 2 years before redgrass field his mother handing him off to a traveling Minstrel at the age 1 and half in fear of the Targaryen's hunting down there bastards at the age of 12 he was handed over to a hedge knight by the name of Florian the Fair at the age of seventeen upon defeating a wildling in the borders of the vale he was knighted on the way to Ashford meadow while his master died of an festering wound he decides to become a mystery knight for the tourney

Rhaegar Royce-Targaryen was never supposed to exist. Born in secret at Runestone in the Vale, the only son of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce, he was the product of a single drunken wedding night - a child his father never acknowledged, raised entirely by a mother who was too proud to ask for anything from the man who had abandoned her. Lady Rhea gave him her grey eyes, her bronze stubbornness, and her name before his father's. She gave him Runestone. She gave him everything. When she died, he inherited it all - the castle, the title, the Vale lordship - and ruled it capably at seventeen with her cousin Gerold Royce at his side. He did not think of King's Landing. He did not think of dragons or thrones or the silver-haired family that had never once thought of him. He was, in every way that mattered, a Royce. And then the King's invitation arrived.

Aenar Targaryen, Son to Rhea Royce and The Rogue Prince, had no desire to be remembered merely as the Prince of Runestone. When the chance for greatness appeared, he seized it, determined to carve his name into the history books.