(121-01-28) Shadow Over Oldtown
Shadow Over Oldtown
Summary: A dragon appears over Oldtown.
Date: 2014-01-28
Related: None
Players:
Silken..Yacio..Bryn..Peri..Thane..Derrioth..Garvin..Daevon..Leof..Trystan..Griffyth..Arros..Eonn..Kelinyx..Jebediah..Vaelinor..Whoremaster..

Quill and Tankard Hightower And Citadel
Tue Jan 28, 121 ((Tue Jan 28 17:48:10 2014))
It is a summer day. The weather is warm and fair.

This is the common room of the Quill and Tankard, that famous Oldtown Inn that has never closed in five hundred years. The building is a noble old half-timber structure with plastered stone between the enormous old black beams. It sits on a small rock of an island at the edge of the Honeywine River, and is accessed by a little footbridge, or by water-taxi.
Rivermen and seamen, smiths and singers, priests and princes, Lords and sellswords, travelers both noble and small, and the novices and acolytes of the Citadel - all come for a taste of the fearsomely strong apple cider that makes this inn so beloved by Oldtown's people. There is a pleasant buzz of chatter, cups and tankards being filled and refilled, and general laughter.

The fire in the hearth allows for a merry glow and a comfortable warmth from Oldtown's breezy, misty cobblestone streets. Benches and tables offer places to sit, and there is a deliciously toothsome smell in the air of food from the back.
!!! Currently at least two City Watchmen are stationed here at all times. They will be quick to arrest those who offer violence to anyone. !!!

Contents: Eonn Trystan Leof Jebediah Griffyth Garvin Daevon
Arros

Arros ignores Griffyth's slight, and instead takes Leof's hand and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles. "The pleasure and joy of making your acquaintance are mine, My Lady." That done, he rises and says to Trystan, "You are certainly lucky, My Lord. A man with such a beautiful wife is most assuredly blessed by the Seven." That said, he bows again, and turns to walk back to the table he shares with Daevon.

Trystan smirks to the knight, then nods to him. "I am indeed quite lucky to have met and been able to wed such a wonderful woman." he smiles to his wife. "I hope to travel the with her, soon. Perhaps after our child is born." he nods to both the knights and smiles, then hugs his wife around her waist.

The sky today is cloudless and clear blue, lacking in the misty conditions that so often characterize Oldtown's weather. Those who are outdoors and not too surrounded by buildings might see a longer way than usual. The breeze is pleasant and clean.

Leof eyes Griffyth and then turns red, "You flatter me, but there are many many Reach women far prettier than I." she does legitimately seem embarassed. She tucks back into her food, sort of eying Griffyth quietly. She settles back in beside Trystan, leaning on him. She seems to get settled then tuck her feet up under her rump, quietly. "If I and our child are up to it. Silly man, announcing to everyone the good news. I'm waiting until the festival to write my parents about it!" she teases.

Eonn steps in, carrying a big stoneware bottle with him.

"Dorne, lovely as it is, might not be the safest of places to visit," Daevon says. "At least for those of us who're not Dornish." And now Arros has returned he has the chance to ask the question he wanted to. "Do you have any skill with those Dornish double-curved bows?"

Garvin stands then, lifting his goblet. "A toast to Lord and Lady Banefort!" he calls cheerfully. "And a blessing upon their good fortune!"

Griffyth does not, strangely enough, take any slight from being ignored. "Blessed by the Seven, indeed. Congratulations, Lord and Lady Banefort. Lady Banefort, your beauty only grows due to a willful spirit and wit. If you'll excuse me?" The Wylde knight inclines his head and slips a glance towards Garvin. "I think, Lord Tyrell, I am going to excuse myself lest I over-indulge again." Finding his feet, Griffyth sweeps his cloak over a shoulder and offers another bownecessary or notand it's with much more fluid grace than his wobbly stumbling the previous evening. "My Lords, Lady. Ser Sand, I hope to see very soon." Hinthint, says his tone. "As we are now both hale."

The boy wouldn't rise up and give the toast.. due to him now asleep, his head laying on the table.. he adjusts his neck slightly at the cheerful call Garvin makes, murmuring to himself.

Eonn has the barmaid fill his big bottle with cider. He seems pleased about this scheme. While she's at this work he pauses to look over the lords and ladies about.

Daevon raises his own goblet in the toast, it would be rude not to.

"Even if you got past the prejudices of the small folk, the desert can be a fast killer." Arros says with a nod to Daveon, "More deadly than any man, even." A pause as he listens to the question Daevon poses, "I apologize. I do not." Griffyth's challenge earns a fierce smile, "Indeed. You only need to name the place and time." His broad smile does not diminish as he lifts his glass for the toast.

Leof eyes Eonn and stands up. "I'm sure it will be at some point, or I'll make the right friend or trade negotiations will occur. Even in hostility ports generally remain less judgemental than inland." she offers, reaching to rub Griffyth's arm when he passes "The seven bless you as well." she looks at Trystan "what were we doing this evening? I know the garden party got cancelled so I'm quite free." she raises her mug up - a simple mug full of cider-tea with honey. "I think perhaps with the good weather, we should go for a long ride tonight." she offers to Trystan, chipperly. "I can finally ride properly again, afterall."

Trystan stands and smiles. "Of course. That sounds like it would be a great time to go for a ride." he looks to the others. "Thank you, and may the seven bless you all as well."

Garvin drains his goblet, then sits again to refill it from the flagon on the table. His honey-crusted violets are all gone now, and he frowns a little when Griffyth announces he's leaving, lower lip pouting out childishly. "And this night started out so fun," he complains softly to the snoozing Jebediah. His eyes light at the sight of Eonn, but the pout remains.

"There are duties to attend to, Lord Tyrell. Every night can't be spent boozing or gambling, much as anyone wants," Griffyth assures Garvin with a small shake of his head. Arros earns a similar smile in kind not unlike that offered before, and Griffyth nods absently. "I consider myself to be a flexible man, Ser Sand." It's the most polite Griffyth has been to the Dornishman—perhaps due to Lady Banefort's presence. Either way, he takes his leave and starts for the door with steady, heavy steps, his path no doubt leading to the stable.

Eonn grins at Garvin, crookedly. Then he's given his bottle full of cider. He pays for it in copper stars.

Leof eyes Eonn "If you join us, I'll pay for all that cider for you, an act of friendship. Also if you choose to stop by, I've a tuna that is too large for us to enjoy, perhaps you and your devout followers would care for some?" she gestures at a cat that is no doubt following Eonn.

"Such a pity, I suppose I shall have to continue asking Dornishmen until I find one as skilled who might be inclined to teach it," Daevon replies. "The warriors with their sand steeds are quite a sight to behold, and to be able to shoot, from horseback with the accuracy they do is an incredible skill. Not that it can be done in plate, but I had hoped. So, might I ask which weapons you are skilled in?" Always with the fighting talk.

"Join you where?" Eonn asks Leof. "I was going to take a ride myself. Hence the bottle." A little smile.

Those who are outside, and have a clear view to the East might see it. A speck. In motion. A bird? It's black, not one of the wheeling white gulls and kittiwakes that fly over the city so often. Its motion is not like that of a puffin. The wingbeats, insofar as they are discernable, are slow.

Trystan smiles to Eoon, happy that there is not open hostility. "Fair enough, Eonn."

Behind it, visible on this exceptionally clear day, are the rocky ridges of the uplands.

"I'm sure we will find a more opportune time to discuss logistics." Arros says to Griffyth, "Do have a lovely evening." That said, he looks back to Daevon, "Ah. I was trained as a Knight, I am afraid. Nothing too exotic."
Griffyth leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.
Griffyth has left.

Leof chuckles "We could, if your lady is not with you, stand to join you." she takes a moment "I don't want animosity - it just exhausts me and I'm sure you can agree it grows tiresome." she takes a couple stags from a pocket - so unfashionably practical, to hand to a waitress. "COme on, wether we go with Eonn or not, lets get some lovely summer air."

One of the Inn's guests comes running down the stairs, two at a time, practically falling. He's carrying a sailor's far-eye and is barefoot, wearing only a pair of pants. He bolts for the door.

Garvin follows Griffyth with his eyes as the man leaves, then turns his attention on Eonn once more. Silently, he listens to the man speaking with Leof and Trystan, slowly sipping yet more mead. He leans a bit closer to Jebediah, giving him a gentle elbow. "You pass out in taverns too much." The man making the mad dash through the common room causes Garvin's brow to arch curiously.

There's a flash of disappointment in Daevon's eyes but he continues smiling. "Some might say that a knight's training is the most exotic of them all. Or perhaps not, but still it is functional, and we are very good at what we do. Would you be interested in sparring, regardless? I could do with the practice before the tournament."

"My lady has her reasons," Eonn tells Leof, dryly. He seems about to say something more, but stops to watch the half-dressed man tear past.

Trystan nods to his wife, then looks after the half-dressed man. "Wonder what that's all about…" he shrugs, then holds his arm out to his wife. "Shall we?"

Leof watches Eonn "And while she does, I've no interest in fighting with her if it can be avoided. Its bad for my health." she taps her belly. "We shall.

Vaelinor comes in from the street.
Vaelinor has arrived.

The man running out shoves Vaelinor out of his way as he goes. Foolish, foolish, considering her looks. Clearly he's got something more important on his mind. He doesn't try to shut the door behind him. Not at all. In fact, he doesn't even try to cross the little footbridge. He just says, "Fuck!" and crashes into its rail. Being about waist high, it doesn't so much stop him as send him headlong into the river.

Wait? A half-dressed man streaking through the inn? This drink must be stronger than Daevon thought. He's up on his feet and then he hears a splash and some cursing. Suddenly he's running after.

Whatever it is, it's moving fast, getting bigger to the eye by the heartbeat. Definitely on wings.

Vaelinor is barely in the door of the tavern when she's being roughly shoved into it by some stranger. She squeaks in surprise and rubs the back of her head where it thunked against the wood. This is becoming a regular thing for her in this place. She blinks up at Daevon with big, violet eyes as he approaches, and suddenly smiles at the Maiden's Knight, as if in recognition.

Garvin refills his goblet again, then stands, tossing long curls from his eyes. "This may prove amusing," he says to himself, turning to Leof and Trystan. "Lord, Lady, it was a pleasure to see you again." With a small bow, he turns and heads for the door, following after Daevon.

The man in the water surfaces and shouts, "Get in the river!" Then he disappears under the footbridge for a moment, reappears on the other side, drifting downriver.

"You Northerners think we are some great monolith of a people." Arros says with a chuckle. "But the truth is-" Then the half-dressed man is dashing down the stairs, and Daevon is dashing after him. He doesn't rise until he notices that Vaelinor has been pushed, and her balance upset as she smacks her head. "My Lady, are you well?" He asks as he approaches.

Trystan leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.
Trystan has left.
Leof leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.
Leof has left.

Oh no! A maiden in distress! After ensuring the man in the river hasn't drowned, well at least from a glance Daevon searches the skyline for… "Dragon?" he asks. And then to Vaelinor. "My lady, are you quite all right?" he offers a hand to help steady her.

Garvin leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.
Garvin has left.

Vaelinor smiles warmly, placing her hand in Daevon's, and nodding to him and Arros both. "Yes, thank you. I bumped. But I'm not a dragon. I have the Blood of the Dragon…but I don't think that's the same thing. Is it?" She nibbles at her lip, apparently directing the question toward the other Targaryen.

Arros leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.
Arros has left.
Daevon leaves the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the door to the street.
Daevon has left.

Hightower and Citadel Streets Oldtown
Tue Jan 28, 121 ((Tue Jan 28 18:38:32 2014))
It is a summer evening. The weather is warm and fair.

Here Hightower Street's course curves from its upper East-West run to follow the river. The narrower River Road continues North, past The Citadel and out the Honey Gates to follow the riverbanks all the way North to Brightwater Keep.
The northern course of the Honeywine is slender and deep. The banks of the river have been improved in a number of places, walling it in to keep it narrow enough to be easily spanned by narrow bridges of stone and timber. Small streams spill into it here and there, some from the surface and some from tunnels running under the streets.
Another cobblestone road leads Northwest to where the Citadel squats alongside the river forebodingly, all stony and thick-walled. Perhaps a quarter mile downriver from the Citadel's narrow Acolytes' Gate is the old Quill and Tankard, that famous inn that has never closed in six hundred years. It stands on a little island not far out into the Honeywine, accessible by a small foodbridge. Most the buildings further South of the inn are far newer, and sparkling clean. Large, expensive manses shrouded in gardens and shrubbery overlook the river.

Hightower Street is wide, clean, and lined on either side with apple trees and stone benches. The river-boats that travel this area are quite finely crafted, with luxurious furnishings, bright new paint, and sound timbers. Looking south, one can see the blazing beacon of the Hightower looming over the city.

The shops here cater to those with rich tastes. Baubles, jewelry, silks, satins, finely wrought armor and armaments, and varies other shiny things meant to catch the eye of well-to-do city-dwells with stags or dragons burning holes in their purses.

Contents: Eonn Trystan Leof Garvin Daevon Arros
Exits: [QT] Quill and Tankard
[N] River Road [S] Lower Hightower Street
[E] Hightower Street [NW] Citadel East

Vaelinor comes out of the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the island where the famous inn stands.
Vaelinor has arrived.

Garvin moves halfway across the footbridge, then leans over the rail to look down at the man splashing around. "What are you on about?" he calls, taking a long sip of mead. "Why should we want to be in the filthy river?"

The man gestures, pointing with the hand that's got the far-eye, at the sky to the East.

"Dragon?" Arros echoes the word Daevon says. As the Targaryen Knight cares for the Targaryen maid, he takes another step across the bridge to look in the way the man is pointing.

"My apologies," Daevon offers Arros. "I did not have the opportunity to see much of Dorne, nor mingle with many people. But you are right, it is wrong to judge the country as if it's a monolith." He shakes his head at Vaelinor. "No, my Lady, it is quite different indeed. I had wondered that if there is shouting to get in the river, and people looking up at the sky, if perhaps there might be a dragon that they wish to avoid?" He steps further out to see if he can catch a glimpse.

Leof watches all the fussing, her arm around Trystan's. "Can you lift me up? Maybe I can see it if its a dragon." she chirps towards Trystan curiously. She eyes Vaelinor curiously before returning to the sky, absently cracking her back.

Vaelinor gasps, eyes widening with excitement. Her hand tightens in Daevon's, and with sudden assumed familiarity, she moves to tuck her arm into his and follow along with him, her eyes on the sky, searching.

Garvin frowns then, looking upward and to the east, shading his eyes with one hand. "All I see is sky and Hightower Street. There aren't any dragons in the Reach, are there?"

The thing in the sky is unmistakable, and now that it's closer to the city, its altitude places it at an angle where it's more easily seen. The wings, the long neck, the snake of a tail that's not at all like a bird, the way it moves…

Jebediah comes out of the Quill and Tankard and crosses the little bridge from the island where the famous inn stands.
Jebediah has arrived.

Griffyth has arrived.

Trystan smiles and nods, lifting his wife up gently so she might get a better view.

Eonn comes out, ignoring the man. His great white destrier is here, and he steps over to take her bridle. There he stops, staring at the sky to the East. "Shit," he whispers.

The boy wakes from his slumber, slowly exiting the Quill and Tankard.. he steps into the street - rubbing his eyes, wondering what everyone is sp fascinated about.

Garvin squints as the shape become larger, his frown deepening. "Oh crumbs," he mutters. "I think I'd prefer to see dolphins flying toward the city." He glances back toward the tavern, chewing at his lower lip, then hurries the rest of the way across the bridge, finishing his drink along the way and absently dropping the cereamic goblet. "Hightower," he mutters in the direction of Daevon and the maiden he's attending. "Safer at Hightower, I'd wager."

"You'd never make it." Arros says to Garvin. "If you are afraid there is always the river."

Griffyth is only a short distance away from the Quill and Tankard; no doubt he'd be further but for the creature in the sky. He's settled with comfortable familiarity astride his roan courser upon the cobbled street on the opposite side of the bridge. His pale blue eyes are affixed, like everyone elses, to the sky above with a furrowed brow and concern limning every feature. At the sound of familiar voices, Griffyth shifts his one-handed grip on the reins and gives a gentle nudge to turn the stallion. "Ho there," he greets a little more brightly than the situation really calls for, even if Arros IS still within sight.

The approaching monster banks in the air, turning, then spirals upwards over the city. It is elegant, it is slender. Its body is the colour of a stormy sea, steel-blue-grey, shimmering. The sails of its wings are a poisonous mustard-yellow. It's impossible, on this so-clear day, to tell how large it is.

Jebediah feels tired again, not aware of what's going on - since he just woke up, he decides to sit onto the Quill and Tankard steps. The boy leans backwards and places his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.. he starts to fall asleep again.

Daevon keeps close to Vaelinor, his amethyst eyes still on the creature as it approaches. He shakes his head at Garvin's suggestion. "There's no time."

Leof eyes Eonn "That is what it appears to be, yes?" she asks for clarification, staying in Trystan's arms as she whistles, "Perhaps we should go get our horses. Maybe the king or queen is visiting and we might steal a glance?" she offers, absently. "Which dragon is that? DO you think it is named?" she asks, curiously.

"Would it move like that?" Arros asks Daevon, "If it had a rider?"

Trystan shrugs, whistling as well. "I don't know. Best we try to get some sort fo shelter, just to be safe."

Vaelinor gapes in awe at the mighty beast flying overhead. "No time for what?" she asks Daevon. Then, with sudden exuberance, she bounces. "Can we meet it?"

Garvin stops to look upward again, a shudder running through him. "We can't just stand around out here," he says, eyes darting around for some sign of safe refuge. He spots Griffyth nearby, face lighting. "Ser Wylde! Do yo have other horses? We need to get to shelter."

On a white mare named Bottle of Smoke does rest a girl who calls herself many things slurps the last drinks from a skin, but there is little to find. She looks about impatiently, the child out of place alone on such a mount, and her nervousness swells as people begin pointing and gawping. "Eonn?" she finds herself blurting out at a conversational tone, a nervous look dancing over her face. "Eonn?" she asks louder, worry clearer. "Eonn! Eonn!" she finds herself bleating like a frightened little animal, though there may be little chance he would hear her from inside the bar.

The beast in the sky circles over the city for a few rounds, going higher. The sun shines through the leather of its wings, setting them aglow.

"I don't recognise it," Daevon admits. "I can't see a rider, but one could likely still stay upon its back if there was." He remains calmly assessing the situation.

Eonn take the mare's bridle and stands there, holding her, and staring at the thing in the sky. "I am here," he tells Kelinyx. "Look." He's fascinated. Enchanted. It is a lovely thing to see. Lovely, and terrifying.

"Boy, this city is tinder to that beast," Griffyth calls back, nudging his horse forward a few yards the short distance between he and the Tyrell lordling and his company. "The rest of my horses are stabled elsewhere. I might be willing to ride you back to Hightower, but if it means to do harm, there's little we could do about it. Stone burns when it's hot enough, or seems to." The knight shifts his weight in his saddle, leans downward somewhat, and offers Garvin a forearm in aid to lift himself up in front of Griffyth if he really does desire that ride back to the tower.

"He speaks the truth." Arros says of Griffyth. "There would be no shelter within the buildings. Think of Harrenhall." Even the Dornish know the tragedy of Harrenhall. Then, "The man in the river is the wisest. If it means to do harm our best chances would be to get in the water."

Garvin grabs Griffyth's arm, pulling himself up on the horse. He doesn't even seem to mind being placed in front of the rider, eyes darting around the street. "Good, Eonn's found Keli, good. Ser Daevon has that maiden, and I can see his horse from here. We could reach the River Road, if we hurried, then…Jebediah!" He places his feet against Griffyth's in the stirrups and rises up to shout across the bridge. "Jebediah, get away from there! What are you doing, you fool? Can't you see the dragon?"

High above, the beast turns, drifting over to the Eastern side of the city. It is clearly visible, more than a speck, but one might cover it with a coin if one held one a foot or so from one's face and positioned it right. For a moment, the dragon seems to just hang there. Then it folds its wings and falls, stooping like a falcon.

The boy slowly wakes up from laying on the steps of the tavern, rubbing his eyes.. he looks towards Garvin's directon, "Huh..?" the boy yells groggily.

The child squirms about on the saddle, almost trying to puddle off into Eonn's arms or shadow or under his feet, but for now she remains seated. "What happens, what do we do, why is that there, what's going on?" she shotguns quickly, her eyes bulging as she grips at her guardian's upper arm tightly with both hands. "What do we do!!" she repeats, urgently jabbing a finger at the diving beast.

Leof 's eyes get wide "get towards the walls. go go go. That is what Althea does when she is about to dive." the little woman shouts, gesturing to get under cover. go go go. She seems to tug Trystan herself. She seems to know her falcons well enough to know that she doesn't wanna get grabbed

Vaelinor clings to Daevon's arm with growing excitement. As she watches the dragon plunge, she starts mumbling quietly to herself, "…velocity applied to the…wind factor…seventy…"

"Even water turns to vapor. Could boil a man alive if he leapt in the wrong water," Griffyth observes without any sense of mockery or torment for the Dornishman. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to reach the River Road. It's just that—" It's only Griffyth's skill with his mount that keeps the beast from flinging he and Garvin both to the stones beneath its hooves. The horse startles and lets out a frightened snuffle, backpedaling sharply and uncertainly at the dragon's dive. Curling the reins in a fist, Griffyth mutters something under his breath and turns the horse sharply to seek a path. "Sit down, Lord Tyrell," the man commands. "I'm not going to be responsible for you cracking your skull on the street." Putting heels to his horse but without force, the courser darts forward, seeking safe haven. The creature IS large enough that squeezing into an alley might be quite difficult. Oldtown is a damned maze, but Griffyth has a loose idea of how to reach the channel of water he seeks.

Jebediah gazes around confused, he sees everyone clambering away.. he slowly stands to his feet - brushing the back of his pants off.. he scratches the side of his head.. looking back over the bridge - squinting.

"Jeb, you wine-soaked idiot, wake up and get over here!" Garvin shouts, sitting back against Griffyth again, just as the horse startles. His hands wrap in the horse's mane then, his eyes wide with fear. "That way, that way, north!" he cries. "The gate's not far. Ser Daevon, your horse! Ser Trystan, take your lady to safety! Jeb, hurry!"

Trystan nods and moves, setting his wife down and moving along with her.

"True enough." Arros responds in a distracted manner as he watches the sky. He turns his head to look to Daevon, "You are the blood of the dragon. Should we make a run for it?"

"Don't panic. Get in the water," Daevon bellows, his voice filled with an authority of its own, cutting through the din. He's still calm, and he's not making any move for the water himself.

In a heartbeat, the beast is. Close. It looks bigger and bigger and bigger as it falls, and bigger still. It's huge. Its head must be bigger than most horses. It seems like it is going to crash right into Hightower Square, and obliterate the entire place with its bulk. Its eyes glow golden. It has horns, and spikes on its tail that same toxic yellow colour. Its storm-blue scales are edged in black and silver, the curved swords of its claws gleam obsidian.

Eonn's got Keli's hands on his arms. When Daevon shouts, he suddenly breaks from his trance and lets go of the mare's bridle to grab the girl's arms.

Jebediah quickly starts to run towards the bridge, darting over it quickly.. he hears flapping and air-movement. The boy looks over his shoulder noticing the large menacing creature.. Jebediah's eyes go wide, he books it over the bridge as quick as a jet, darting towards Garvin and Griffyth. He takes a leap in the air before he skids next to Garvin and Griffyth, barely able to stop himself - but he manages.

Muttering darkly, Griffyth reaches down and seizes Jebediah quite nearly by the scruff of his neck. Being that the young man is slight and slender, it takes little effort on Griffyth's part to haul him over the backside of the horse. It's a seat, even if it isn't a great seat. "Stop shouting, you'll draw attention to us," Griffyth growls, and quite nearly claps a hand over Garvin's mouth. "I don't need any bloody directions. Stay still and stop squirming. Hold on. Does our Septon hopeful know how to pray?" Guiding the courser, aptly named 'Arrow', through narrower alleys, they eventually fall out of sight of the group—but hey! Huge water source! So that's something, at least, even if Griffyth is mildly annoyed with trying to keep Garvin steady and relatively quiet while Jebediah looks ready to fall off the horse's backside.

The sound of the dragon's stoop rips the air, like tearing cloth, but enormous. And then it flings its wings wide, catching itself, the air under it making a deep booming /thud/ as it moves. It lofts itsself upward this way, and the wind it creates washes over Hightower Square, and the street, and the river, and beyond. The smell of it is hot brass and burning cinnamon, overpowering every other smell, and it seems like every horse in the city screams.

Vaelinor presses to Daevon's side, shaking her head and eyeing the water warily. "I'm not allowed in the water," she says quietly. "I cannot swim."
The wind from the beasts' wings causes Arros' curls to move and his sandsilk robes to flutter about his legs. "If it comes to that." He says to Vaelinor, "Ser Daevon and I will help you."

Eonn's great white destrier-plowhorse shrieks like the rest of them, rearing. She's a huge horse, though this isn't exactly notable considering the beast in the sky above. Eonn manages to pull Kelinyx off the mare's back just as the horse takes off, running to the North as fast as she can charge, ignoring the people in the street in her terror. And Eonn, paler now than usual, his eyes wide, throws Keli into the river.

Keli squeals and bucks her little body as she's lifted, fear kicking in but survival instincts clapping her mouth shut as she tries to relax her deft little body once she realizes that horse has powerfully heaved her up and off. Eonn's grip remains secure, though, and he shifts her inertia to send her flying into the water, her in-air twisting showing she intends to land properly in the water, but for just a moment she steals a glimpse back, to Eonn, to the incoming horror, then, darkness for her.

Now the beast skims over the city. So low its spiked tail might touch the rooftops of the towers. But it doesn't. The details of its mailed belly are seared into memory as it passes, spilling its brass-and-cinnamon scent behind it as it goes. It glides over Hightower Street until the street meets the river, sails right over the water, and continues on towards the tourney grounds.

Daevon just stands there, a beacon of of calm in the middle of the chaos. He watches as the dragon swoops over them, and holding onto Vaelinor says. "Then stay and if we need to leap into the water we'll do it, we three together." As the horses start to buck and panic and flee, he searches to see if any need his assistance.

Leof eyes Trystan and moves towards the river, dropping down and covering the back of her head and neck with her arms. Wind storm rules. She's close enough to easily be pushed or roll into the river.

Trystan leaps down and covers her with his body, trying to keep her as safe as possible, holding her to prevent her from going into the water, trying to see where the beast is headed without danger.

Behind the monster, touching every stone it passes over, and the faces of the people on the street, is the dragon's massive shadow.

On the edge of the river road, Griffyth's courser dances skittishly, but the man's expertise keeps the stallion calm and draws him back from the edge of rearing to fling his riders free. Calm enough to keep him in the saddle at least, and his 'charges' while Arrow whickers nervously and tosses his hand. Resting a firm hand upon the stallion's neck, Griffyth shakes his head at Garvin. "Stop leaning forward like that. He'll blacken your eyes or worse." Casting a glance over his shoulder, Griffyth seems relieved to find Jebediah likely still lying there across the horse's flank. "You're in luck. I don't think we'll need to do any swimming, but wait and we'll see yet."

Garvin lets out a small wimper against Griffyth's hand, but tries hard to stop squirming, keeping a tight hold on the horse's mane. He ducks his head as best he can, his long curls flying in the wind, as he lets Griffyn guide the beast through the streets, hopefully away from the even large beast in the sky. Once they've come to a stop, he dares to open his eyes again, relaxing a bit. "Where is it?" he asks, craning his neck upward. "Oh carrots, oh crumbs, it's still there. What does it -want- with us?"

Those in the street lose sight of the beast as it dips below the city's skyline somewhere past Sphinx Street, near the Tourney Gates.

Daevon's breath is coming a little faster, is that excitement, exhileration from the close brush with a dragon, and perhaps a little longing as he watches it make its pass over them. He inhales a deep breath.
Daevon has partially disconnected.

Arros exhales as Daevon inhales, but it is a sound of relief. A deflating as it would. "See." He smiles to Vaelinor, "No need to jump in the water at all, My Lady."

Jebediah clings onto the horse for dear life with his eyes clenched shut. The boy slowly opens his eyes, looking upwards at the sky.. "Still there al'righ'.."

Leof takes a moment, drawing a map, "Maybe it came to eat dolphins." she mumbles, looking at Trystan, worriedly. "I hope our horses at home are not too spooked. Perhaps we should go try to soothe them?" she offers to Trystan "And the pups must be barking their heads off frightened half to death." she whispers.

Vaelinor watches the dragon in fascination, nodding to Daevon's and Arros's words. The water seems to hold far more fear for her than the mighty beast overhead…perhaps not wisely so.

Trystan nods to his wife, squeezing her, both happy that they're both okay and still frightened because DRAGON. "You're right… let's also make sure the men know what's going on, that we're okay." He slowly gets up, holding his hands to his wife to help her up.

"Shall we stay out here and see if it returns?" Daevon asks. "Or perhaps go inside and get a drink?" He's still watching the direction the dragon went.

"You assume it has anything to do with us." A stoic exterior Griffyth might affect, but there's perspiration beading his brow that has very little to do with any sweltering temperatures. Clearing his throat, Griffyth waits until his steed is calmer—it's an imperfect calm, but the snorting and half stamping has ceased. "I don't know anything about dragons beyond the war of conquest. Stop quivering." The knight heels his courser forward and picks his way more speedily back to the bridge a short distance from the Quill and Tankard, though it takes some twists and turns to reach it.

"I want to see it again!" Vaelinor exclaims in childlike wonder. She squeezes Daevon's hand, tugging at his arm eagerly, though in no particular direction.

Leof eyes everyone "Anyone wanting to use the Banefort's roof or balcony is invited and offered access to our wine cellar. Perhaps we can find a pair of far eyes and get a better look at it." she eyes Griffyth "I know dragons breathe fire and in cities fire kills people. I also know that I have animals at home who need to be cared for."

Splashing messily into the water, only to rise when her breath is out and find nothing, Keli comes clambering to the water's edge, but does not fully surface. She has her hands grasping for her daggers, dripping wet, under full alarm. "Eonn!" she yells, seeking the man's return call.

Garvin begins squirming again, jostling against Griffyth, as he tries to follow the dragon with his eyes. "Still alive back there, Jeb?" he asks, shielding his eyes with a hand. "Ser Griffyth, do you see it? Where's it gone? Is it safe to be riding back into the city, do you think? I don't think I've ever needed a drink so badly. The one time I don't bring anything of my own…."

Jebediah grasps onto the horse with one hand, slugging Garvin in the back with a closed fist - "Be quiet! Just face it, the dragon probably already ate Ser Daffodil!"

"It went over!" Eonn replies to Keli. He runs downriver a bit, to find where she's drifted to. "Are you all right, girl?!"

Daevon laughs at Vaelinor, oh how much he was hoping to hear that response, his own enthusiasm flaring too. "Perhaps we could ride out in the direction it went? It may have landed and we can see what all the fuss was about." He's absolutely fearless, if perhaps a little foolish too. "Ser Sand, my Dear Lady, do you both have mounts in the vicinity?"

"What will they do if it doesn't go away?" Arros asks Daevon, and Daevon's question causes him to chuckle. "Won't the dragon cause our mounts to do mad with fear? I do not worry for myself, but I would not want to see the lady thrown."

Poor Ser Griffyth with two slender boys flopping about on his horse. It makes the man cover his face temporarily with a hand, suck in a breath, stifle a sigh—and then promptly dump Jebediah to his feet once he's done punching his friend in the back. Garvin is treated a little more gently, but he's still dismounted with a rough downward hoist so that the knight can better adjust himself and his appearance. "You're a terrible rider," the knight tells Garvin. "It flew over towards the Tourney grounds. Perhaps it has a taste for Dornishmen."

"Ah, quite right," Daevon's disappointment is rather obvious. "It would not be good to inflict such terror upon creatures that seek to only serve us. Not needlessly at least. You are a wise man, Ser Arros."

Trystan is shaking, pretty badly. "Let's just get home, dear…" he turns to the others. "Her offer still stands. Come to our home should you wish to do so."

Vaelinor stares off longingly in the direction where the dragon disappeared from sight, her lower lip protruding slightly in a pout. "I don't have a horse," she says belatedly, even if no longer relevant.

"NO!" she barks, looking almost angry at him, but a moment later clambering up the edge and getting into his arms, smearing her mucky hands and feet on the man. "I almost hit my head on a rock and a fish tried to go up my dress and where is it nowwww?!" The child is in some manic state which blends terror and excitement, her voice right between crying and laughing.

"Almost is fine," says Eonn, swinging the wet child up onto his shoulders. "It went that way." He points.

Garvin lets out a small yelp of surprise when he's swung off the horse and onto his own feet, looking up at Griffyth. "I'm a great rider," he protests, rubbing at his backside. "When I'm in command of the horse, at least. If the danger's past, will you take me to the tower? I've a stock of Arbor gold that's begging to be broken into." He brushes curls from his eyes, turning to look Jeb over. "You look like you survived well enough, no thanks to yourself. You'd have happily sat there and been roasted along with the inn. I don't know what to make of you sometimes, lad."

Clinging to her guardian, the little girl whimpers, then bounces excitedly at the thought a moment later. "I want to see it, do we kill it, is it going to burn down the whole city?!"

The boy grits his teeth and arches his eyebrows as his feet collide with the floor.. he looks towards Garvin with an upset face, shaking his head.. before he looks back up towards Griffyth.

Leof dusts her dress off. "Lets go find some trousers and see if the house is alright, since it seems no one wants to regroup, if you want to go investigate with them, I can manage caring for the house in your absence.

"How the hell could we kill /that/?" asks Eonn, in reply to Keli, but it's Daevon he's looking at.

Trystan shakes his head. "I'm coming with you. Let's just… go home." he then begins to head that way, absolutely DONE with all things outside.

Garvin hasn't stopped shaking yet, and he suddenly grabs Jebediah in a tight hug. "You nearly frigthened me to death, you know," he says, stepping back again, closer to Griffyth on his charger. "You need to be more careful, lad. And more observant. You should run off to the Sept, they're likely worried for your safety." He looks up at the mounted knight again. "Are you going off to chase after the dragon?"

Vaelinor gasps, her big eyes going wide in panic at Eonn. "No! Don't kill it!" She looks desperately to Daevon, curling her fingers into his sleeve. "Please don't let him kill it."

Griffyth's expression is almost pained. "Very well, but I am not going to tow you around town, Lord Tyrell. You are a grown man, not a lady to be courted. You will ride behind me. You're too much of a distraction, and you obscure my vision." Leaning downward, Griffyth offers Garvin his forearm to steady himself against so that he can climb into the saddle behind Griffyth. "Hold on, and don't squirm again. No, I don't chase dragons. Do I look like a bloody fool for you? Only an insane man chases death." With exasperation, Griffyth digs his heels into the horse's flanks and the courser starts forward at a quick clip.

The tiny thing looks to Daevon as well, her arms around Eonn's neck as she, again, checks the daggers at her hips to make sure they are not lost. Also, she completely soaks Eonn.

The boy receives the hug, patting Garvin's back.. stepping back as he is told instruction of what he is supposed to do. The boy nods, petting the back of the horse - and then he hugs Garvin's side, running off towards the directon of the Starry Sept quickly.

"You can't," Daevon replies to Eonn. "Any attempts to do so will likely just enrage it. For all we know it might even have a rider anyway. The danger's likely passed anyway, it had ample opportunity to sow destruction where it flew and did not do so." He offers Vaelinor a reassuring pat on the arm. "I'm sure that it will be all right."

Garvin wraps his arms around Griffyth's waist, keeping his chin high, as he watches Jebediah scampering off. "He's going to get himself killed one day," he says with a sad note. "But I'm glad you don't chase death. I don't think I could handle much more excitement tonight." He looks around the street as they pass, making note of everyone he knows that seems to be safe, then presses his cheek against Griffyth's back and shuts his eyes.

Eonn nods to Daevon. "I don't want to." he says. "I don't think I want to go near it.." Except he does. He clearly does. He's looking off in the direction it went.

"It'll probably just eat some livestock and fly away." Arros says easily.

Vaelinor bites her lip nervously, nodding to Daevon with a fearful look. One might think someone had just threatened to kill her favorite puppy. She presses her cheek to Daevon's shoulder, hugging his side.

Trystan goes along Hightower Street, heading South.
Trystan has left.
Leof goes along Hightower Street, heading South.
Leof has left.

Those on the street can see the dragon again, in the distance over the sound. It's above that little strip of beach near the Blackcrown Road.

Kelinyx peers at the faces of those she recognizes, then back to Eonn, then in the direction he looks. "Why is it even coming here in the first place? People ride those around?"

Laurent arrives from the River Road.
Laurent has arrived.

"Hopefully some sheep," Daevon says to Arros. "So, that was exciting." He casts a glance back into the tavern and then there's the dragon again. "Oh, there it is."

Griffyth has left.

Laurent jogs down the street, shield in hand, toward the Quill and Tankard. He labors under the weight of a suit of brigandine armor, his short hair plastered to his head. He raises one hand to wipe sweat from his brow as he stops to eye the crowd, and then calls out, "Garvin!"

When Garvin sees his cousin charging toward him, he has Griffyth stop his horse and let him down, thanking the man for his kindness, but letting him go on his way in peace. Then he's running toward Laurent, calling, "Laurent, did you see it? It was enormous!"

There it is, sailing lazily over the water, not so far from the city that it's a speck, but no longer so close. One can see it flick one foot, throwing something into the air. Two little things, tossed in front of its great mouth, and then it pours flame from its jaws, bright amber fire.

Laurent nods at Griffyth as he reaches out toward Garvin, pulling him close with a strong hand on his upper arm. His attention shifts from the mounted Griffyth to his cousin, and he looks the smaller man over, his expression grim. "I saw it," he growls under his breath. "You're alright?"

Vaelinor points out over the water, bouncing excitedly. "There it is again! It's so beautiful. Cousin, does it have a name?" She tilts her head at Daevon with a look of pure innocence, obviously having decided he is the resident dragon expert.

When the dragon stops flaming it catches something, something still burning, in its jaws. Another figure, also aflame, falls into the sea below it.

Garvin throws his arms around Laurent for a hug, still shaking a little, though not as bad as before. "I'm fine, are you all right? Ser Griffyth was taking us to safety, but then the dragon flew off again. What in the Seven Hells was a dragon doing over Oldtown?"

Out over the water, the dragon works it's neck like a swan does, then wheels in the air, its mustard-yellow wings working as it spirals to gain altitude.

"I don't know," Daevon smiles fondly at Vaelinor. "Quite likely, but who can know what it is? I'm sure we can ask around and find out what it is and what happened when we couldn't see it. So, is it that you don't have a horse, or that you just did not ride on here, today?"

Kelinyx bounces a bit on Eonn's hip, shaking him at the shoulders. "Eonn, come on, what is it doing here? What do we do? Do we all go hide so it leaves?"

Eonn stares off down to where the beast is visible again, flying about and. Eating something. He murmurs to Kelinyx, "Wouldn't you, if you could?"

Eonn adds, softly, "I think it knows we're here."

Laurent grimaces as he's hugged, but throws his free arm around Garvin anyway. It's a quick and perfunctory return of the hug, and then he steps back to create a bit of space between the two men. "How should I know," he asks, his tone brusque. His free hand drops to the hilt of his sheathed sword, and he seems to take some comfort from its presence. Now that he's sure that Garvin is uninjured, his dark eyes track the dragon's flight.

"Then let's hide!" the little girl urges. "Where do you think Bottle hid?" Keli asks, nervously spying about for the creature.

Vaelinor nods eagerly at Daevon's suggestion to learn more. "I don't have a horse. I can ride…but I don't have my own. Father has one. But it's in King's Landing. That would take a long time to get here, and the dragon might be gone by then."

Garvin looks off toward the dragon as well, squinting. "It's probably an ill omen. Are there every any good omens?" He shakes his head. "My throat is raw, let's find a drink." He looks around again. "Eonn, do you want a drink?:

Garvin looks off toward the dragon as well, squinting. "It's probably an ill omen. Are there every any good omens?" He shakes his head. "My throat is raw, let's find a drink." He looks around again. "Eonn, do you want a drink? Or seven?"

"I don't know," Eonn says. "I better go find her." Then he replies to Garvin, "I have never wanted one quite so much. But I had better find my horse." He squeezes Keli's knee where she sits on his shoulders. "We can't hide all the time." He's still staring at the creature in the sky.
The dragon spirals higher, then does a long, slow, circle over the city. It's up enough to seem far away, though experience says that if it dives it will be there in a heartbeat.

"Maybe we can remedy that," Daevon says. "If you like. Although not today. So, cousin, I'm Daevon, Dae," not that anyone ever calls him by the offered nickname but he does keep hoping it will catch on. "I don't believe we've had the opportunity to meet before." He seems a little uncertain of that. There are so many relatives after all.

Laurent raises his shield a fraction - on instinct, not because it will do him any good if the dragon dives at the small crowd. He stares at the beast through narrowed eyes, trying in vain to gauge what its next action will be as he stays close to Garvin.

"Your horse will find her own way home," Garvin begins. But then the dragon's shadow falls over the city again, and he cringes, stepping even closer to Laurent. "It's back. Crumbs, it's back. And now we're without a horse. I am -not- leaping into the river. I'd sooner be roasted on dry land than boiled in that sewer."

"I brought an extra mount for the tourney." Arros says to Daevon and Vaelinor. "A desirer to use just in the tourney, and a lovely sandsteed mare. Black as the night." He offers the Targaryen maid a slow smile, "Would you like to ride her until you find your own, My Lady?"

Laurent's eyes flash to the river, and his hand leaves the hilt of his sword as he briefly considers throwing his cousin into the water. When his attention returns to the dragon, though, he seems satisfied that the creature isn't about to make a run at them. At least for the moment. Still, he warns Garvin in a low, urgent tone. "If that thing dives this way, you're going into the water one way or another."

"Daevon. Dae," Vaelinor tests the names out on her lips. "I am Vaelinor." She perks up excitedly at the men's talk of providing her a horse, the dragon momentarily (and foolishly) forgotten. "I've never had a horse of my own before. I would like to ride her until I find my own," she echoes.

Up above, the dragon spits a little short blast of fire, then climbs more rapidly.

Garvin uses both hands to shield his eyes now, craning his head way back to watch the dragon growing smaller in the sky. "Oh good, then if the dragon doesn't kill me, the dysentery will. We really should be somewhere safer, not standing around in the street. I just don't know where would be safe from a dragon."

"We shall look for one for you then," Daevon says to Vaelinor. "It is not seemly for a Targaryen to be walking everything." Those words are gentle, teasing though. "That is most generous of you," he says. "I have horses of my own, although I cannot best the offer of a sandsteed mare to ride. That is such a gift. They're beautiful creatures and the move like the wind itself. My own… she's lovely. I couldn't hope for a finer horse.

"They are very spirited." Arros says to Daevon, "But my mare is gentle without losing that spirit. I would be lithe to part from her, but a Maid of Targaryen should have the best of horseflesh."

High above, the dragon turns over the city one more time, slowly, lowering its head and staring down when it passes over the Eastern edge, and those cliffs where the fireweed is. But it keeps gaining altitude, and it does not complete the circle on its next pass, instead breaking off and flying away back to the rocky hills of the Uplands where it came from.

Laurent relaxes visibly as the dragon disappears into the uplands. "If you die of dyssentery," he says slowly, turning to face Garvin, "It's the fault of the maester who couldn't cure you. If you're cooked alive by dragonfire, it's the fault of your Leash." He growls the last word, the emphasis making his tone rougher still.

Vaelinor gives Arros a wide, beaming smile, then quite suddenly parts from Daevon to try to hug Arros. "Thank you. I will be a good rider. I promise."

Eonn squeezes Keli's knee. "Do you want to go inside?" he asks, "Or help me to find Bottle?"

Kelinyx frowns nervously, letting her anxiousness out now that the beast seems to be departing. "Eonn, that thing was casting a spell on you. I saw it in your eyes. We need to go inside a little while, then go find Bottle before she gets too scared."

Daevon nods at Arros, lost in thought. He smiles as his cousin abandons him for Arros, a soft fond smile. "So, now the dragon has gone, what shall we do?"

Garvin also relaxes when the dragon flies off again, letting out a breath. He turns to Laurent as well, eyes lighting at his last word. "I know my Cousin Leash will never let harm befall me," he says, brushing hair from his face again. "Now let's go get that drink, before that creature decides to come back. This entire affair only proves what I've been trying to impress upon you: we must live today, for tomorrow, a dragon may burn the city down around us." He turns then to shout at anyone and everyone, "To the Quill and Tankard, on my purse! When Lord Pansy pays, everyone drinks!"

"A spell?" says Eonn. "No," he says. "I don't think so. I just. I have long wished to see one." He looks off towards the west. "I wonder what it had caught. Or. Who?" He frowns.

"Don't even think like that, Eonn, let's just get inside for a little while, please! It's scary!" Keli bounces insistently against her mentor.

Arros puts his arms out to grab Vaelinor's hands in his own to prevent the hug, although he gives her hands a warm little squeeze, releases one hand, and kneels down to deliver a chaste kiss to her knuckles. "Ser Arros Sand, at your service. And, it is my pleasure, My Lady Vaelinor. I am sure you will take good care of her, and give her plenty of apples for me."

Laurent grimaces as he catches the tail end of Eonn's musing, the look he shoots the sellsword saying that the thought had occured to him, as well. He falls into step with Garvin as Lord Pansy starts toward the Quill and Tankard. Dressed as he is, he's hardly in a state for revelry, but duty is duty.

Eonn nods to Keli. "All right. Bottle knows her way home, anyway." He still frowns, though. And then murmurs, "I want to see it again."

Vaelinor stops short, surprised when she is prevented from hugging. But it doesn't bother her, and the kiss to her hand earns a girlish giggle. "I will. Cousin Thessa likes apples. So we'll get more. Does your mare like gardens? We have a garden. It's small, but there are lots of flowers."

Kelinyx slips off of Eonn after his assurances. "Okay, alright. Milk. And then fruit. And then wine." She looks up expectantly. "I pinched some tobacco, too, this morning. Do you have a cob or pipe?" She scans to see what familiar faces remain nearby.

Daevon laughs gently at Vaelinor's question. "Mares love gardens, but gardens and gardeners generally do not love mares to be eating their flowers and tromping all over their lawns. Of course all horses, just like all Dornishmen, are different."

Eonn lets Keli down and sighs. He says, "Only one glass, for you." He takes her hand. "Do you want to get dry things?" He frowns a bit, as if this concern is puzzling.

"I don't know." Arros says honestly, and with a little smile, "This is the first time I've taken her out of Hellholt. But, you must be sure not to let her have her way, or she will not treat you as her mistress." A pause, "She is called Onyx. I sill bring her to you tomorrow. Would that be pleasing, my Lady?"

"I guess. It's only going to get colder. Let's go home…Bottle may be there," Keli offers to him encouragingly.

Eonn shakes his head. "I don't think so," he says. "Not yet." He looks up towards the River Road. And then starts that way.

Garvin sticks close to his cousin, eyes darting up to the sky frequently, as he makes his way back down the street toward the little bridge to the Quill & Tankard. Soon he's over the footbridge and taking one last look, a shiver running through him. "Eonn, Keli, are you two coming? Ser Dae? Ser…Dornishman?"

"She is leaking everywhere." Keli giggles and tries to make light, now that things seem safe. "And shitting. All the horses went all over the city at once. I am scared!" she laughs, batting at his arm to try and cajole something from him.

"I want to find her," Eonn tells Keli. "Look, let me give you my shirt, you can wear that and wait for me in the Inn. Can you manage this? Even though you are afraid? I won't look for the dragon, I promise. Only for Bottle."

Laurent follows Garvin across the short bridge, pausing at the door to the tavern. His eyes scan the small crowd as Garvin invites his friends into the Quill & Tankard, giving those he's met before a frown and a shallow nod of his head.

Kelinyx hmphs but looks about the sky, scanning slowly one more time, then nods. "I…I will stay inside. Under a roof. Where no monsters will see me." She gives Eonn's hand a squeeze in both of hers, then realizes the muck still on her hands and feet, trying to wipe some of it on her gray garment.

Vaelinor rocks on her heels, glowing with excitement. She nods eagerly to Arros. "Yes, please! You will bring her? I live with Cousin Thessa. Come to her house." She looks back to Daevon, grinning madly. "Dae, do you hear? I will have a horse and we can all go riding."

Eonn starts to pull off his armour so he can get to the black homespun he wears underneath it. He hurries.

Daevon beams at Vaelinor. "Just a loan of a horse until we can find one who you like. It will be wonderful to have people to ride with. Unless…" he looks between Arros and Vaelinor. "I suppose I'm duty bound to ask you what your intentions towards my cousin are? So consider the question asked." It's said goodnaturedly enough, and without much concern for an answer.

Garvin shrugs then, turning back to the door and heading inside. "Come, Cousin. I shall get you good and drunk tonight, then carry you home on my shoulder." This thought lightens his spirits somewhat, as he looks up at the much larger Tyrell.

Laurent looks down at himself to find a man well over six feet tall, broad as you like, and sweating in a suit of brigandine armor. He looks up again to Garvin, frowning like the expression is carved into his face. There's a single shake of his head as he pushes through the door behind his smaller cousin, grumbling something under his breath.

Garvin crosses the little bridge that leads to the river island where the Quill and Tankard stands, and enters the inn.
Garvin has left.

Kelinyx wipes her mucky boots on the grass beneath them as she continues scanning the area, her eyes big and her movements alert, quickly responding to anything sudden or loud. "Remember your promise," she quietly tells her guardian.

"To be a friend to dragons." Arros says simply enough. "I am sure one day lady Vaelinor will have a fine husband who isn't a bastard. But me? I just wish to be a friend." That said, he bows, "I will meet you both at…where does this Aunt Tessa live?"

Eonn pulls his black shirt off and gives it to Kelinyx. It'll make a dress on her, if it doesn't trip her entirely. "I won't forget," he says. "It won't be long, I hope. Bottle isn't stupid. I hope she didn't go far."

Laurent crosses the little bridge that leads to the river island where the Quill and Tankard stands, and enters the inn.
Laurent has left.

"I don't know," Vaelinor says, lifting her brow. "I don't think I've met Aunt Tessa." She looks to Daevon. "Is she nice?" She glances back and forth between the two men, a little lost."

Kelinyx finishes wiping off the last of the mess on her wet clothing, then puts Eonn between herself and others for a quick, back-to-them-all change into the top. "When I get inside I'm going to dry out my socks and boots next to the fire," she says mostly to herself, trying to plan and organize her thoughts like she sees the stern and serious adults around her always attempting. She carries the wet clothes under her arm and trundles off down the path after Laurent so she can be within watch of someone she knows.

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Simultaneously:

Blackcrown Road (#245Rn) The Reach
Tue Jan 28, 121 ((Tue Jan 28 17:34:29 2014))
It is a summer day. The weather is warm and raining.

The Blackcrown Road is narrow, rough for a cart though comfortable enough for riders or those on foot. Most goods travel by sea, for the road follows the coast of the Whispering Sound South by Southwest and can cut no distance nor time off the journey.

Here the track is surrounded on either side by a massive field thick with purple-red fireweed, stretching to the sound and several miles inland, spicy-sweet in fragrance and buzzing with bees. The miles of bright flowers are lovely, but livestock cannot graze on them and so this place is empty but for the skeps of beekeepers and a single low beggar's hovel. The walls and towers of Oldtown are clearly visible to the East and Northeast. Further South down the road there's a little path running Eastward towards the shore of the Whispering Sound.

It's a beautiful, bright, clear, sunny day.

Contents: Silken

Derrioth comes out of the little wattle-and-daub hovel through its fur-covered doorway.
Derrioth has arrived.

Bryn comes along the track from the Tourney Grounds.
Bryn has arrived.

Yacio comes along the track from the Tourney Grounds.
Yacio has arrived.

A beautiful, silvery haired woman is kneeling at the edge of the fireweed patch, picking flowers and putting them into a basket. She lazily sings and half-hums a song in a Low Valyrian dialect, probably Lyseni, as she picks.

The sky today is cloudless and clear blue, lacking in the misty conditions that so often characterize Oldtown's weather. Those who are outdoors and not too surrounded by buildings might see a longer way than usual. The breeze is pleasant and clean.

Apparently, Bryn has snuck away from the Citadel. It's not all that unusual, most of the boys there sneak out on a regular basis, especially on beautiful days like this. However, where most have run for the taverns or markets, Bryn makes his way out here, beyond the walls of OldTown, making his way along the road towards the beach, his path taking him near the woman picking flowers.

About a little less than half an hour ago a sailor swaggered down the street heading towards the Beach, he was pleasant if curt in the way he nodded in greeting to those he passed. Being relieved of his watch over his beautiful wife (a large Braavosi cargo ship called The Wing) that sleeps below the waves to purge her of the plauge she drifted into port with the captain is enjoying the lovely day and walk back to the city with a boisterous and bellowing song akin to an opera. Opera singer he is not. But the song is done with a smile on his face and merry gestures. When he passes the flower gathering woman and the boy he serenades them with a bigger smile and twinkle in his eyes all in good humor.

Silken's head turns slightly as she hears lightly steps. "Little boy…" She says, her words tinged with an exotic accent. "So far from home?" Then Yacio approaches she'll give him a lingering look, her startlingly sea-blue eyes drinking the man in. "I do so miss Braavosi men." She calls out.

Bryn looks up, giving a friendly smile to the woman and says, "Not *that* far. And there's a beach near here that's the best place to swim," he says with a grin. Then Yacio is there and he waves again, "Hello, Captain!"

Slowly walking coming down the street, in armor dark like charcoal, pulling the reigns of a horse similarily as dark comes Derrioth. He lets out a quiet yawn, allowing the horse to follow along side him, his gaze slowly drifting along his surroundings. He'd be talking in a foreign dialect, seemingly to the horse in a foreign dialect, if familiar with the language those who are would find he's speaking Dothraki "And /I/ said I don't even like vegetables."

Those who are outsite, and have a clear view to the East might see it. A speck. In motion. A bird? It's black, not one of the wheeling white gulls and kittiwakes that fly over the city so often. Its motion is not like that of a puffin. The wingbeats, insofar as they are discernable, are slow.

Behind it, visible on this exceptionally clear day, are the rocky ridges of the uplands.

Yacio reaches down to give Bryn's silvery hair a friendly ruffling. "That "mother" of yours know you are going for a swim?" It's clear he is using the word "mother" as loosely and unconvinced as possible. Now to Silken he plucks up one of the near by blossoms and with a rakish grins offers it to her, "Of course you do." He winks to her and presents the flower to her like she isn't surrounded in them, as if it was the most perfect flower. Special in that it was hand selected by none other than, "Commodore Yacio Cruz." He fondly corrects Bryn as well, repeating. "Commodore." With a wink to punctuate that as usual, Yacio is in a good mood and not whole-heartedly being pompous.

Silken does not notice the strange object in the horizon, as her eyes are fixed on Yacio. She takes the flower, and touches the petals to her alabaster cheek before dragging it down her neck to her collarbone. It is a movement that would mean nothing to the child, but cause most fully grown men's hearts to pound in their chests. "The Commodore would be wise to visit me at the Bard." She says in her sultry Lyseni accent, "..I get so lonely with no engaging company."

Peri has arrived.

The motion in the sky is on the far side of the city, hard to see from here what with the towers and buildings blocking much of that view.

Bryn grins and shakes his head to Yacio, "You mean Lady Banefort? No, she doesn't know, but I'm not living with them anymore anyway. I live at the Citadel now." And he indicates the robes he's wearing. "They don't know either," he adds, though, grinning. The robes he wears must be hot in this weather, but he doesn't seem to be sweating. He turns towards the East as he catches something out of the corner of his eye, but when it disappears in among the towers of the city he loses it before he can get a good look, and shrugs to himself, looking back to the adults.

Peri is coming from one of the many beaches nearby, carrying a fishing net and a bucket of fresh catch. The woman looks pretty confident and calm, wearing leather pants with her jacket open - drying after a dip without the leather it seems. She seems to be watching a rabbit down the way curiously.

Whatever it is, it's moving fast, getting bigger to the eye by the heartbeat. Definitely on wings.

The armored sellsword yawns, bringing the horses reigns over to his left hand, maneuvering his right hand to pat it along the side of the neck lightly, still talking in the brutal dialect of the Dothraki Sea. The horse simply follows along, guided by the man. Not speaking, because you know. It's a horse. The man would look over, up the road, taking note of the four and ceasing to speak in Dothraki, the horse lets out a quiet neigh, looking around but Derrioth takes it lightly. He'd continue to progress over his scabbard ocassionally clacking against his armor, once he looks to Bryn with a friendly grin, "Hello, little Maester." he says, nodding to the others with a raise of his hand.

Thane has arrived.

Yacio looks very relieved for the young man that he is no longer living with the Baneforts. "A young novice is in our midst! Good for you Bryn! I am nothing but impressed with you boy. When you go swimming there, make sure that you steer clear of the water around the Wing. She causes rip tides and also don't want you mistaken for a looter!" He ha-ha-has in his trademark way as he bends over to poke tickle the lad to demonstrate the sword poking he'll get if he's is mistaken for a looter. Bit of role-play/pretend pirate scene before he spots the approaching spot and his dark brows knit closer. "I hope it's not here for a feast…looks like a Dragon…what do you think Bryn?" He offers to swing the boy up to sit on his shoulders so he can get a better look. The suppressed gallant in the commodore comes through in his stepping over to position himself between strange thing in the sky and his new lady friend from Lys.

The thing in the sky is unmistakable, and now that it's closer to the city, its altitude places it at an angle where it's more easily seen. The wings, the long neck, the snake of a tail that's not at all like a bird’s, the way it moves…

Bryn looks back at Derrioth's greeting, and waves to him and then Peri with a smile, "Hello." He looks back to Yacio and giggles, but then blinks at his mention of a dragon. His attention turns quickly back to the sky, eyes wide. "A real dragon!" He accepts the lift up from Yacio, quite happy to get up and get a closer look. His eyes are full of excitement as he watches the creature in the sky.

Silken stands up from her basket, and lifts her eyes up to the sky. She steps around Yacio, her flirtations now forgotten, and walks further into the field of fireweed. The sun, brilliant and warm, turns her long silvery tresses molten. She lifts her face up to the sky, and watches, before turning her head to look to the others. Lyseni she may be, but in the light she looks as fair as maid of Old Valyria.

Peri eyes Bryn and gives a quick bow, looking a smidge alarmed "That is a big dragon. This is not good, not good at all. What did you do?" she asks, the last part jokingly aimed at Bryn. The dark skinned woman tucks her net over her shoulder, She covers her eyes with her hands, as if trying to get a better look at the beast.

Hoofbeats announce the approach of a rider along the Blackcrown. Upon the back of a stot taken from a Citadel cart, the poor beast unaccustomed to being ridden, is Maester Thane. "BRYYYN!" he shouts as he gets nearer. When he is near enough, he slows to a stop, and hastily dismounts the workhorse. "Bryn!" He hurries toward the boy, his eyes looking to the sky in deep concern.

The approaching monster banks in the air, turning, then spirals upwards over the city. It is elegant, it is slender. Its body is the colour of a stormy sea, steel-blue-grey, shimmering. The sails of its wings are a poisonous mustard-yellow. It's impossible, on this so-clear day, to tell how large it is.

Bryn grins to Peri and says, "Didn't do anything! Well, snuck out to swim, but that's it." His attention turns back to the dragon, "Maybe one of the royal family's come to visit Lord Ormund? It's beautiful!" Then he blinks again as he hears Thane calling his name. "Uh-oh," softly, glancing towards the maester.

Derrioth looks up, taking note of the beast within the air, he develops a frown, gritting his teeth as his expression turns to that of concern. He grunts, turning to his steed and climbing atop of it, the rustling of metal upon metal sounding from him as he does so. The sellsword fixates his gaze upward, at the sky, analyzing its movements, its shape, its look, trying to make out everything he can about it, seemingly.

Yacio reaches a moment to hinder Silken from strolling away, but he rethinks the deterring and instead the hand goes to a hard leather box on his belt. The simple lock is flipped to allow the lid to be lifted and from the box comes one of the comodore's prized possessions, his far-eyes. "Ahoy." He looks up to the boy on his shoulders and passes the far-eyes up to him. "Crowsman. Does he have a rider?" To the approaching Maester Yacio gives a big sells ice to wildlings smile and lifts a hand. "Everything is alright Maester. Got Bryn all safe right here. No need for alarm. Well…at least about the boy." He gestures to the Dragon in an 'that's some cause for alarm' manner.

The beast in the sky circles over the city for a few rounds, going higher. The sun shines through the leather of its wings, setting them aglow.

Thane moves to Yacio's side, commenting, "I'll wait to make that judgement for myself, my good man. Bryn," he turns his attention to the boy again, "Are you alright? Did you-…this may sound strange, but please answer. Did you know the dragon was coming?"

"Look at it!" The Lyseni courtesan calls out in excitement. A sound of unrestrained glee escapes her lips, "Ah, even if it turns Oldtown into a pile of rubble, look at it!" And another belt of laughter, as clear and as sweet as a bell, escapes her lips. She wipes tears from her cheeks before turning her head upwards to watch more.

Bryn blinks, but then smiles again as he takes the far-eyes and takes a look through them at the dragon, looking at it. Then, his voice sounds a little more nervous, "There isn't a rider. Thought all dragons had riders?" Then he looks back to Thane and shakes his head quickly, "Didn't know at all. I just wanted to swim."

Thane nods to Bryn. "No strange dreams about dragons? Nothing?" He rubs the lower half of his face in concern. "We should get to the shore. May the gods forbid that beast take an interest in us. But if it does, we'll want to be near the water."

High above, the beast turns, drifting over to the Eastern side of the city. It is clearly visible, more than a speck, but one might cover it with a coin if one held one a foot or so from one's face and positioned it right. For a moment, the dragon seems to just hang there. Then it folds its wings and falls, stooping like a falcon.

Peri eyes Thane. She looks between the two "Are you saying he could know about a dragon coming?" she asks. "A wild dragon with blue body and mustard wings, how strange." She eyes the courtesan and snorts, "Why didn't you ask Peri to take you? I am a skilled swimmer and know the most lovely spot." she pauses "What if it is a dragon that dives for fish, Thane?" she eyes the horse. She seems a bit unnerved at a riderless dragon.

Yacio gives a nod of complete understanding to Thane and reaches up frowning to take the far-eyes from Bryn. "No rider? I think we should all go back to the beach…get off the road and away from the city…" Then the dragon plummets and he swallows hard and starts backing up down the road. "Yes, I certainly think that's the best idea… my sweet lady of Lys." He calls to Silken and extends his hand towards her trying to call her back to him. His actions of retreat to the beach not out of cowardice, but of protecting those he now feels are in his charge.

Silken must not hear Yacio's call, because she takes a further step into the field of red flowers. She doesn't notice the others backing away.

Derrioth growls, watching the dragons display, while undoubtedly the sight may be beautiful, but the sellsword doesn't think so. Instead, he kicks the back of his foot into the side of the horse, grabbing onto the reigns with both of his hands as he horse neighs loudly and begins to break into a sprint, fast. The horse also seems to be agitated, breathing loudly, though its movements remain swift as it's white hair blows back as it runs, rubbing against its dark skin. Derrioth growls, muttering to himself, though audible when he rush by the others, "I swear to the gods if I die today…"

In a heartbeat, the beast is. Close. It looks bigger and bigger and bigger as it falls, and bigger still. It's huge. Its head must be bigger than most horses. It seems like it is going to crash right into Hightower Square, and obliterate the entire place with its bulk. Its eyes glow golden. It has horns, and spikes on its tail that same toxic yellow colour. Its storm-blue scales are edged in black and silver, the curved swords of its claws gleam obsidian."

Bryn nods in agreemnet with Thane's advice, and as Yacio agrees he doesn't try to get down. He just turns his attention back to the dragon as they start towards the beach, watching it with fascination. A little bit of fear, perhaps, but mostly fascination.

The sound of the dragon's stoop rips the air, like tearing cloth, but enormous. And then it flings its wings wide, catching itself, the air under it making a deep booming /thud/ as it moves. It lofts itself upward this way, and the wind it creates washes over Hightower Square, and the street, and the river, and beyond. The smell of it is hot brass and burning cinnamon, overpowering every other smell, and it seems like every horse in the city screams.

Now the beast skims over the city. So low its spiked tail might touch the rooftops of the towers. But it doesn't. The details of its mailed belly are seared into memory as it passes, spilling its brass-and-cinnamon scent behind it as it goes. It glides over Hightower Street until the street meets the river, sails right over the water, and continues on towards the tourney grounds.
"
Behind the monster, touching every stone it passes over, and the faces of the people on the street, is the dragon's massive shadow.

Peri eyes the coming "Darlings. Friends. Perhaps towards the beach now would be for the best. It is headed our way." she comments, trying to be serene and calm about it, but it is bothering her. She drops her fish pot, backing towards the beach with graceful steps.

The stot Thane rode out on is done with this nonsense. Dragon? No thank you. It bolts at the first gust of wind from the great beast's wings, taking off to the west.

Thane sighs and grumbles at the horse's departure. But he can hardly blame the animal. He beckons Silken and the others to follow with him and Yacio. But he pauses, watching the dragon's flight, his eyes going wide. "It's coming this way…"

Silken's eyes widen, and she seems to snap out of her gleeful little trance. She blinks once, twice, and takes a step towards the rest, ready to come along to the beach.

Derrioth grunts as a loud scream escapes from his horse, bringing itself up to its hind legs, kicking at the air with its forelegs, its snow white hair violently blowing back in the wind. "Wooah! Wooaah!" he yells out as the horse berserks, shortly before it drops back down to all four hooves, neighing loudly, clearly frightened. He looks back up, seeing the horse coming this way, his heart sinks, his eyes becoming wide as he pulls the reigns to the left, turning the horse and beginning to makes his way over towards the beach, seeing the beast coming this way. Letting go of the reigns with his left hand, he begins trotting about, going by the group, he extends his left hand outward, seemingly to bring someone up, though not directed at anyone, seemingly allowing the first person to take his hand to ride with him.

Those in the street lose sight of the beast as it dips below the city's skyline somewhere past Sphinx Street, near the Tourney Gates.

The dragon drops altitude as it passes over the city walls by the tourney grounds. It's big enough to cast its shadow over the tilt, and well beyond. It's too big, making the landscape around it seem small.

Yacio's thick accent is even thicker. "There are places to hide on the beach…we must hurry!" The boy is lifted off of his shoulders to be swung towards Thane to act as mount to the beloved little bastard. So that he might be able to better help along the ladies. Mostly he pauses just long enough to get a hold on Silkens hand. He pulls her in, and kisses her knuckles while they run for the switch back road that leads down to the beach. "Hurry! Out of sight! Quickly!"

Thane gathers Bryn up into his arms, and bolts for the beach. As he runs, he pants to the boy, "Bryn. I saw this. In my dream. You…the dragon…" As he gets further away, toward the water, his voice lowers.

Silken's hand is grabbed, and she reaches down with the other to hoist up her silk skirts to run. She tries her best to keep up with Yacio, but her sandal gets caught on an uneven stone in the road, and she lets go of his hand as she pitches forward. Her knees and palms scrape against the road in her fall. Letting out a frightening little gasp, she tries to pick herself up.

Peri is not one to hesitate or day dream it seems. She's running , pulling her scale mail off of her hips to wrap it around her shoulders. Her expression is glum and dim, headed for sand and sea. "Abandon your shoes, girl, run bare foot, you'll manage." Peri shouts, tone a bit bossy, as if this is common. The running that is.

And then the beast is on them. Running? In the air, the dragon moves faster just gliding lazily along than any man, or horse, can run. It's too big. Its taloned toes skim the fireweed, knocking off the blossoms, and the sweet spicy scent of them is overwhelmed by the dragon's huge odor. For a moment, it's right overhead, just above the people who are running for the beach. If they were to reach up an arm's length, they could touch it. It's so hard not to scream.

Bryn is still staring at the dragon until Yacio lifts him and passes him to Thane. He holds on to Thane now as they run towards the beach. His eyes widen at whatever Thane whispers to him as they run, looking over Thane's shoulder towards the dragon again, seeing it get closer, "Too late." When it flies overhead, he doesn't scream, he doesn't duck, he just bends his neck back to look up and watch it.

Yacio halts immediately when he loses grip of Silken's hand and turns on a dime and without any hesitation moves to try scoop her up into his arms to carry her the rest of the way. "Yacio has you." Then the dragon is on them and he rolls his body to cover over the fallen Silken. His hands go over his head to protect him and fingers go in his ears as the buffet of wings is deafening. A string of shouted rushed Braavosi words come from him, a prayer.

Thane, however, does duck when the dragon swoops overhead. In fact, he tumbles to the ground with Bryn in his arms, rolling and attempting to shield the boy with his body. "Seven hells…are you alright, boy?" He sits up, throwing open his satchel to peer at something within.

Silken does scream. She screams and sobs in the middle of the road, her joy from earlier diminished by such close proximity of the beast that was at one point so far away. Still, she has some want to live, and reaches for Yacio's neck when he bends to cover her.

Peri drops down when the beast is over head, covering her mouth to muffle a terrified sound. Terribly un salt-wivish of her to show terror and all. Her eyes are the size of dinner plates.

Derrioth hunches down, lowering down upon the horse with a brief yell of surprise and fright, his left hand still extend as he rides along, the horse lower its head as well. He'd grunt bringing himself to roll off over to the left, dropping down onto his side with a thud, though it probably would probably not be noticed because of the dragon looming above, the horse afterwards running off towards the beach.

As it passes over them, quick as a blink, the dragon puts down its big taloned feet and picks up Yacio, and Silken, in one footful.

Bryn starts to say something to Yacio as he sits up, but that's when he notices that Yacio and Silken have been picked up. He's on his feet in an instant and he yells after the creature, "NO! BRING THEM BACK!" Not that he expects the dragon to listen, it's more just a panicked reaction to seeing people, one of whom he really likes, carried away.

Yacio pets Silken's hair as he tries to calm her even though his hands are shaking a little bit. "Every thing is going to be…" WOOSH! "NOT FINE!" Within the creatures grasp he holds onto Silken with one arm, keeping her head underneath his chin and her body curled up against his chest. He begins to reach for the dagger in his boot. "Down! Set us DOWN! — GENTLY!" The Braavosi bellows in Low Valyrian. Then the image of how Silken looked in the field in the light all graceful and a glow. "Tell it!" He shouts down at the girl in this horrible predicament. "In Valyrian, tell it to land!" Literally on a wing and a prayer he hopes the whore has the old blood in her veins. This is what he gets for listening to his gallant streak. He glances down and realizes how high up they are and he hollars, "Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!" Eyes wide the hand that was going for the dagger instead tries to wrap around a toe of the dragon.

The dragon turns, gaining altitude, and sails out over the switchback path to the beach, and then above the water beyond.

Those on the street can see the dragon again, in the distance over the sound. It's above that little strip of beach near the Blackcrown Road.

Peri eyes Thane "I can heal them once it drops them, Do you think we can tempt it to drop them with something tasty?" she shouts, towards Thane. She looks a bit pailed face. She holds up her net for Thane, trying to suggest netting them.

Silken lets out another scream as the dragon's huge claws encase Yacio and her. The tight, leathery grip of it's talons is tight. Too tight. Her screams turn to cries of pain. <LAND> She screams out in Lyseni, hoping it is the proper word. That scream is followed by another choking cry of pain.

There it is, sailing lazily over the water, not so far from the city that it's a speck, but no longer so close. One can see it flick one foot, throwing something into the air. Two little things, tossed in front of its great mouth, and then it pours flame from its jaws, bright amber fire.

Thane reaches into his satchel, and pulls from is a spite of twisted obsidian, wincing as his cuts his finger on a sharp edge. "Bryn…it's a long shot. But if my dream meant anything, maybe…just take the candle, boy. Trust your instincts." He presents the glass object to Bryn.

Derrioth coughs as he lies on the ground, looking up to see the dragon grabbing onto Silken and Yacio, "NO!" He yells out, scrambling to bring himself to his feet reaching across with his right hand for his sword, drawing the blade, but alas by the time he's brought himself to his feet the flying reptilian giant is sailing above the waters of the sound.

When the dragon stops flaming it catches something, something still burning, in its jaws. Another figure, also aflame, falls into the sea below it.

Bryn has tears in his eyes as he looks back to Thane. He nods quickly, taking hold of the candle, not even caring as his own hand is sliced, and turning back. He looks to it, and then to the fire in the sky, eyes wide. For a second, he just watches that flame. Then, hoping that Yacio and Silken weren't those flaming things, he tries holding up the

"I'm sorry…" Silken sobs out to Yacio. Then they are both flung up into the air, Silken higher than Yacio. She screams, her limbs flying out akimbo, before she is engulfed in the center of the dragon's cone of flame. Her skin blisters instantly, her hair burns away. The object that falls into the mouth of the dragon is not the courtesan. It is the charred outline of the body. The beast gobbles up Silken in a few snaps of it's great maw, as if she were just a snack to go with afternoon tea.

Out over the water, the dragon works its neck like a swan does, then wheels in the air, its mustard-yellow wings working as it spirals to gain altitude.

Yacio does his best to puff up and press outwards. Not enough to make the dragon tighten it's grip, but enough that Silken has a buffer the protected soft chewy center. He gasps and does his very best to keep her from getting crushed. A kiss is placed on top of the woman's head trying to sooth her in what's probably their last moments. Then the power of the dragon is proven. The attempts at being gallant had his grip on the woman loosened. So when the dragon gives a little flick of his claw open, The arm he had around the dragons toe keep him from being flung immediately but when silken goes flying away from him he releases as if he can catch her, then there's a world of fire and one of the most beautiful things…beside his mustache… he's laid eyes on is burned and then his mustache! The hot air edging the blaze blasts his face and knocks him backwards catching his clothes and worst of all…mustache on fire! Yacio is knocked out cold (or is that hot) by the force of the blast and then is awakened by the searing cold of the ocean, his lungs are choked by the salty drink. Here, here is where Yacio was prepared to die. His failure to save Silken a heavier weight than the tide pulling his charred form down under the surface. The broken ribs and leg and arm make swimming to shore impossible. So he just floats…for now. But how long that can last is up to the Gods.

The dragon spirals higher, then does a long, slow, circle over the city. It's up enough to seem far away, though very recent experience says that if it dives it will be there in a heartbeat.

Thane watches in horror as one of the victims is charred and gobbled up by the dragon. "Let us pray the dolphins are here and will rescue the one that fell…if alive." He watches Bryn with bated breath, hoping for some miracle.

Peri 's weight is moving, at an alarming clip, pants, jacket, net, scale mail off. The woman is alarmingly good at getting naked quick "Oi. KEEP IT OFF MY BACK. IF I DIE TELL RIKER TO GO FUCK HIMSELF. IF I LIVE I NEVER SAID THAT." the tall brown woman yells, headed into the water, swimming as fast as she can out towards Poor Yacio in an attempt to save him, secretly hoping a dolphin is out there.

Derrioth grows pale, watching the two become engulfed in flames. The sellsword continues towards the water, stopping as his boot touches the waters. He'd fall to his knees, simply staring watching the beast devour one of its victims as he drives his sword into the sword with his right hand, his grip loose but maintained as he watches. It's all he can do, after all.

Bryn bites his lip, glancing to Peri, but then nods and runs forward, towards the dragon, holding up the candle above his head. He'll stop before he hits water, but he keeps running towards the dragon, holding up the candle. "Dragon! Over here," he yells in his high-pitched voice. "Come here!" His voice is more commanding now, as he tries his best to call on his heritage, without really knowing how.

It's still a few weeks early for the massive influx of dolphins, but there are always a few in the sound. It's not a hopeless prayer. And the water is not rough. Such a beautiful day.

It does seem like the spiraling dragon tilts its great head to look down at Bryn as it circles.

Up above, the dragon spits a little short blast of fire, then climbs more rapidly.

In the water, Yacio can hear the bird-song chirping of dolphins, one or two.

Thane hurries to catch up with Bryn, reaching to take him by the shoulders, fearing he just might run right into the water. "High Valyrian, boy. Tell it…<Land>." He has no idea if it will work. "Wait…blood and fire…" He reaches down to place his hands over Bryn's, to run the boy's hand over one of the sharp edges of the candle. A bit cruel, but work a little pain for a chance at saving Oldtown from destruction.

Bryn tries again, yelling, "Come here!" He stops when Thane grabs his shoulders, but he doesn't offer a complaint as Thane slices his hand. Instead, he continues to hold up the candle and shouts the word Thane just told him, <Land!>

One of the little dolphins is there. No, two, a yearling, perhaps half sized, and a bigger one. They nudge the floating Yacio towards the shore, chirping like happy little birds. The dragon means nothing to them, it seems.

High above, the dragon turns over the city one more time, slowly, lowering its head and staring down when it passes over the Eastern edge, and those cliffs where the fireweed is. But it keeps gaining altitude, and it does not complete the circle on its next pass, instead breaking off and flying away back to the rocky hills of the Uplands where it came from.

Peri 's head pops up, a spitting of sea water and soon she's back on track towards the drowning seaman, attempting to get ahold of Yacio, appreciativey patting the Dolphins and pointing towards the shallows, attempting to get Yacio in a position to breathe with the dolphin's help. She intends fully on saving this poor bastard. <Good beasts, yes, very good. Peri is thankful.> she chirps at them in Lysene.
Yacio spitting up sea water and blood now as his body lists in the waves out of his control he begins to "sing" again, the same song he was singing earlier. But now it's more just weakly mumbled words. The hand that's better off than the other reaches out to weakly pet at the mother dolphin. He "serenades" the dolphins just like he had done before to Silken and Bryn. He can't see very well around him or really feel much of anything either. Shock is a wonderful thing to the grievously wounded.

The dolphins squeak and splash a bit, pushing Yacio into the shallows. The younger one claps its jaw on the water, to make a slapping noise and to splash Peri in the face.

Thane pats Bryn's shoulder, breathing in great relief as the dragon seems to be departing. "I don't know if you did that, lad…but it was well timed." His eyes go to the figures in the water, and as they approach the shallows, he hurries out after them. "Get him on shore!" he shouts.

Isador comes along the track from the Tourney Grounds.
Isador has arrived.

Peri splashes the little Dolphin back and tilts over to pat it gently before she picks up Yacio. She eyes the group "Someone sprawl my jacket on the sand and lets get him on it. Keep the sand off of him." she calls out, adjusting Yacio so his head is on her shoulder, chest to chest. She presses her lips feather soft to the sailor's temple, picking him up by the arse, gently.

Derrioth growls, rushing out and grabbing onto the jacket, sprawling it out on the sand as he looks to Peri giving her a nod, backing away slowly as he stares back into the sky, his breathing heavy shaking his head, "W-Why was there a dragon?" he asks himself, muttering rather as he simply stares, moving to get out of the way of everyone else, being unable to perform anything significant of medical sorts, or at least not for /this/ particular sitauation.

The little dolphins, having shoved Yacio more or less to shore, flip about and swim away rather than risk stranding themselves.

Bryn lowers the glass candle he's holding, watching the dragon fly away. He glances up to Thane and smiles. "I.. felt something new too. Dragonfire, that's what we need for this." He looks then towards Yacio and quickly says, "Commodore!" He follows after Thane towards the injured man, still holding the candle.

Another helper that is suddenly in the party to get Yacio fixed up is the Sailor of the Moondancer that came here earlier to relieve the Commodore of his watch. The sailor brings with him a blanket and a flask and waterskin. "Captain!" The sailor calls with worry. "Com*cough*odore." Yacio answers and then his head tilts to the side and looses the rest of the water in his lungs and belly into the sand beside him. Once that's done he looks up and lets out a scream of torturous pain as the adrenaline is ebbing. The scream isn't even finished, it cuts off as he passes right out.

Thane drops to his knees beside the jacket, setting down his leather satchel and throwing it open. "Cut away his shirt," he orders as he digs through the satchel, producing various phials and bottles. "Be careful, as some cloth may be fused with flesh if the burns are bad enough." Along with the bottles, he takes out a roll of silk gauze.

Peri takes a thin knive from her hair, opening the hair piece to neatly begin working the blade, nimble as a surgeon with it in this use. She considers "Mint salve and something to help with the pain." she comments to Thane. She eyes the commodore "Do not give him water right now. set that flask beside me." She is careful, cleaning the clothing off of Yacio carefully "Maybe something to numb him?" she offers. Peri and Thane are huddled over a burnt, half drowned Yacio, cutting his clothing away near the shore. They seem to be doing medical things.

Isador arrives on the scene late it would seem looking over the shoulders of Peri and Thane impotently the witch says, "What happened here? Need supplies?" Isa is a healer herself and her Hovel is a stones throw away. Not content to be confused and idle she settles upon a course of action. "Alright burns - what don't you have that you need?" she asks.

Thane shakes a glass bottle of white liquid, thrusting it and a tiny cup toward Bryn. "Milk of the poppy, boy. Fill this cup twice and give it to him. Isador, Peri is right. Mint. As much as you have." Meanwhile, he begins pouring a few various herbs and solutions into a mortar for mixing.

Bryn stands back a little, watching. Blood is dripping on the ground beneath the candle he holds, but he's not letting go of it right yet. He watches Thane work, and after Peri's comments he asks, "Maybe aloe? Archmaester Luckin gave me a book of herbs, Aloe was in there, said it was good for burns." He finally moves to put the candle in Thane's satchel and hurries to take the cup and moving to fill it with milk of the poppy and then feeding it to the Commodore.

Derrioth simply looks over the victim looking to Isador and then back down to the burnt Yacio. He'd turn, looking up and down the beach before taking note of what he's looking for, he'd bring his index finger and thumb into his mouth before letting out a loud whistle. In reaction to the whistle would come a loudly neighing horse with skin black and brilliant snow white hair blowing behind itself. He'd grab its reigns as it comes over, looking over to the others, "Mint, I ride out and get the mint.." he says somewhat, voice lightly shaking.

Peri takes a moment, taking the flask "Hey Derrioth, bring me my pants and the leather bag on them I have a tub of aloe for the drowned god's kiss. It would help if infused with mint." She seems to shift, grabbing the wine bottle, "We need to get the salt off of his skin too. Lets wash him, and rub him with Aloe as quickly and thoroughly as we can." she is afterall still naked from her swim.

Isador offers her hand to Derrioth, "I have plenty back at my hovel. Care to give me a ride?" she smiles wanely - respecting the gravity of the situation - glancing back at the captain with a worried look.

"I've got aloe in this mixture, lad," Thane says, "But good thinking. We'll make a healer of you, yet." He produces a pestle and grinds the ingredients together in the bowl, forming a thick gray paste. He nods to Peri, "Good. We'll need more. Plenty more. My supplies aren't sufficient for something like this. We just need to get him protected until we can get him to the Citadel. This will require Archmaester Luckin's skills."

Derrioth looks to Isador, "Just give me a moment." He says, patting the horse as he lets go of the reigns, quickly rushing over to Peri's pants and bag, grabbing onto them and hastily jogging over and handing both itmes to her before rushing back over to the horse, who like the good beauty she is stayed, climbing atop and offering his left hand out to Isador.

Isador climbs up and presumably shoots off in thedirection of her hovel - to return in only moments with a great deal of mint.

Yacio burbles and sputters some when liquid is poured into his unconscious mouth. He just got liquid-free! But enough of the drug gets into him and the tightness in his singed and broken limbs. There is a moment when some of the "milk" burbles back up with a pinkish tinge to it as he chokes on it a bit. One rib is very obviously broken and a great deal more of them are fractured. Luckily his lungs are sea logged, but intact. His left arm is broken to the point that his radius is poking out like a spear through his flesh on the top of his forearm and the ulna is creating a lump in the underside. That break not sharp enough to puncture skin. Many of the bones in his feet that hit the water first are shattered. And his knees are dislocated as well from the impact with the water. Thankful his sailor instincts kicked in and he assumed the best diving form he could muster in his fried state.

Peri eyes Thane "Yes, I agree, this is beyond me. Would it be quicker to get him via water to the citadel or over land?" she asks, worriedly. she shifts, holding Yacio's shoulders above his torso on her lap, rotating him so he is on her side, her humming soft and soothing "Don't be suprised if he yacks all over." she warns.

Bryn smiles just a tiny bit at the compliment from Thane, though his eyes are still red with tears. He gently feeds a second cup of milk of the poppy to the commodore, then returns the cup obediently and waits for another command. Not wanting to bother Thane, he pulls a hankerchief from one of his robes' pockets, and wraps it around his bleeding hand.

Thane considers Peri's words for a moment as he begins to spread the disgusting-smelling paste over the worst of Yacio's burns. "The road is close. It will be the fastest and most reliable route. We'll need someone to fetch us a cart to transport him, and to alert the Citadel so they can prepare a bed for him. He'll need considerable attention."

Derrioth remains mounted upon his steed, looking over to thane, "I shall ride out and obtain a cart, others do what you can to keep him alive!" he says. If Isador hasn't gotten off then she'd find herself brought off by Derrioth himself before he'd kick his foot into the side of his horse and set off, hastily making his way down the road.

Peri eyes Derrioth then the commodore. She gestures at him "Go get a horse, a cart, and have a bolt of medical linen, a basket of aloe, and four bunche sof Mint sent to The citadel for Maester Thane." She takes a coin out of her pants, flicking it at the man. A dragon. AN unusual coin for a woman who technically owns nothing "Go."

Isador arrives with the mint, "Here," she says to Maester Thane and Peri, "Burns like that? A Dragon assailed him? Wildfire?" Isador looks about thinking her postulations ridiculous.

Thane blinks in disbelief at Isador. "You didn't see the dragon?" He looks out to the horizon where the beast finally disappeared to. "It killed a woman. This man is lucky to be alive at all."

Derrioth would soon return with his horse, pulling a cart. It doesn't really look like any sort of cart meant for pulling injured people, but it appears to be able to work. "I've brought the only cart people would give me." he says.

Thane spent the time Derrioth was gone spreading the paste over the rest of Yacio's burns, or mixing more of the salve while Peri and Isador attend the injured man. By the time the cart arrives, Yacio is covered in gauze patches and bandages. "Right then. Let's get him up onto the cart. Peri, gently take his legs?" He points to Derrioth. "You there. Come take the other side of this coat under him. We'll use it to carry him."

Peri is careful, lifting Yacio's feet when Derrioth helps. "DO you think I could uh have one of you gentleman's shirts?" she asks, worriedly. "I do not wish to be arrested for indecency." she protests softly.

Isador offers Peri her shawl, "Not sure what you can make of this," she says wondering why the concern for decency came up. She hops on the cart continuing to minister to Yacio. "A dragon? Without a Targaryen?".

The Sailor wobbles and wags the blanket he brought around at the maester. "Use this!" He's a bit in a panic and if the blanket whaps around the Maester's face some, it wasn't intentional. He as well goes to help with hoisting Yacio up into the cart. "Careful! Careful!" Yacio's mouth opens and a strangled sound of pain escapes. Tears tumble out of his squeezed just eyes and sting all the way down his reddened cheeks. His right hand is opening and closing in a grip like he's still reaching out for Silken.

Bryn nods to Isador, and says, "Big too. Very, very big. It looked like it could swallow the Starry Sept." A bit of an exagurration, maybe, but he seems insistant. He looks back and follows after Thane, ready to help if he can but not really able to do much to help in moving the injured man.

Peri tugs the shawl around her torso, tying infront of her, pulling on her pants and adjusting them, carrying her things. She moves to lift up Bryn and set him beside Yacio "Make sure he doesn't get bounced too much,eh?" she asks, blushing slightly."

Thane growls at the sailor when he's hit in the face. But soon he's in the back of the cart as well, monitoring Yacio. "Let's get moving. This man needs the Silver Archmaester's attention as soon as possible."

Derrioth carefully assists in lifting Yacio up into the back of the cart, from there he'd bring himself around tot he front of the cart and climbing up into a seat before taking reigns. He'd reach out with his left hand and give the mare a smack upon the ass, to get her going, before sitting back and guiding the horse with the reigns down the roads, making sure as to limit his speed to a quick one, but safe one for the injured Yacio in the back as they begin to set off.

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