(122-07-16) A Thief!
A Thief!
Summary: A thief hits the Dragon Door Manse, and is pursued. His target is a mystery.
Date: Date of play (16/07/2015)
Related: Pending

The Dragon Door Manse is quiet this early in the day, the sun is only now starting to color the sky a somber silver blue as the discoloration of the sunrise fades. The morning hours bring hustle and bustle to the servant's lives around the Royal Manse. There are washer women, cooks and scullery maids criss crossing the floor inside the interior of the Dragon Door. Outside stableboys and guardsman patrol the scene. A large bearded man and his son of about fifteen years approach the stables with a rack of horseshoes between them. The Blacksmith was here to drop off the irons and check if any of the horses needed a change.

Eonn seems to live in the stables, at least sometimes. He sleeps in the straw. Not now, though. He's up early, and in his piecemeal armour, tending to the horses. He stops when the smith and the boy arrive, and leans with his arms atop a rail to watch them.

Jurian isn't much of one for mornings, but he's up and in the garden, wearing that plain linen shirt that he's been lazing around in since the trip.

Madrighal is on his sand coloured riding horse with the white mane. The stallion is buit for fast travel over long distances and is excited to have his master on his back. Madighal himself is freshed bathed after his sea trip. Spotting activity at the stables, he turns Whiskey that way, giving Eonn a friendly wave.

Fiero glances up as he closes in on Eonn's territory and looks around for the man. "I heard some of the riders arrived back from Dorne. Any mounts need reshoeing?" He asked with an oddly thick accent that doesn't seem to match his ruddy appearance. The accent, to the learned ear, is clearly Qohorik. The Blacksmith and his boy set down the rack of horseshoes just as a shrill scream goes off somewhere inside the manse. The wordless scream carries fear but no explanation as it ripped the morning air apart and found the ears of those outdoors.

Eonn lifts a hand to Madrighal and starts to point, probably to tell Fiero which horses might need their feet looked at. He pauses mid gesture in response to the scream. It doesn't really seem to alarm him any. His face does not change in the slightest. But he turns to stride towards the manse, moving fast on his long legs.

Jurian hears the scream and rushes in. "Find that screaming!" He shouts at servants. "Bring my sword!" Servants scramble to do as he orders.

Madrighal looks seriously concerned and strings the small hunting bow he had on his backwith it's quiver, but does not dismount, for as fond as he is of his patron Prince it is generally not a good idea to be an armed Dornishman running in a targaryen Manse when people are screaming. Best to sit his horse and wait.

A woman with a long face composed of drawn features comes running out of the manse with blood on her hands. She looks frantic as she glances around and spots Eonn first, "Thief!" The chamber maid screamed but pointed back toward the Manse. It is unclear at first glance whose blood she is covered in but it does not appear to be her own; there are no visible gushing wounds. The fear though is written on her face. "Demon. It isn't nat-" The chamber maid adds but before she can elaborate there is a crash from inside the Manse.

Eonn blinks at the bloody maid, and comes to her side, looking at her hands. "Who's hurt?" he demands.

Jurian gets his sword in hand and goes rushing toward the sound of the crashing. "Ready a h…horse!" he shouts in the meantime. His uneven gait is very obvious in a rush like this.

The maid pats herself down, checking for wounds…"No one. I'm not, I opened the closet and there was a man or a beast he was a man with the black skull of a horned beast upon his head. The blood…" She looks down at her hands distraught and confused. "It came from his mouth."

Madrighal shouts in a voice pitched to carry and with his impressive lungs behind it, "Eonn! He has a horse!" And then he is spirring Whiskey hard around the house after the man.

Eonn does actually look a little surprised at what the maid says, "Go wash," he orders her, sharply, and he turns to run back towards the stable, and his big heavy white mare. She's not saddled. Or bridled. He doesn't do anything about that, just swings up onto the beast's broad back and rides out of the stable and on through the garden towards the house, urging the destrier (or plowhorse?) into a run.

"Bloody—" Jurian mutters, finding himself scrambling for a horse, now. He's certainly going to be bringing up the rear of this chase. But the servants have just about bridled the horse by now. He has to mount it without a saddle. "Thief! Give chase!"

"Bloody—" Jurian mutters, finding himself scrambling for a horse, now. He's certainly going to be bringing up the rear of this chase. But the servants have just about bridled the horse by now. He has to mount it without a saddle. "Thief! Give chase!" <re>

The call for a chase goes up and the sounds of hooves becomes accompaniment before soon cresting into thunder as more sets join the chase. There is something 'deformed' about the rider in the distance, his horned head looks dark and overlarge for his human shoulders. The thief is heading toward the Honey Road. Toward farmlands and sparse forest clusters.

Eonn steers his enormous mare straight through the manse. She's so big and slow that Madrighal's sandsteed might have made it round the row of Starry Street Manses through the alley even as Eonn is ducking to go out the front door.

Whiskey isn't a sandsteed, but he's a good fast horse and the diminutive Dorninishman is feather light, pressed low on the horse's back, but going around instead of through the manse lost a bit of time.

Once Jurian finally /gets/ on his horse, he isn't a terrible rider. He holds the reins securely, keeping a firm grip on the horse with his thighs while his gaze is fixed ahead.

"Yah." Fiero and his son take a pair of the Manse's work horses as well and they remain near the rear of the chase. Fiero's considerable bulk causes his horse to lag behind the rest but it is his son who cuts between the carts and people in the Oldtown streets who refuses to lose sight of the thief. The young ginger lad named Guivre keeps pace with Eonn and the rest- having run right through the manse.

The big white war-horse is slow to get her stride, and she's probably old, but she charges after with a will, Eonn leaning over her neck.

The thief keeps a clever pace several moments ahead of his pursuers. He -seems- to throw off his head, a large black mass clatters to the ground just before the thief crossed the threshold out of the town via Honey Road.

Whiskey leaps the disguarded bone, Madrighal tight on the powerful beasts back, and off they go down the honey Road.

As others get closer they see the discarded skull of a large horned beast in the road.

Jurian keeps his mount from running right over the skull, but he doesn't stop for it. The horse courses forward after the thief.

Eonn leans down and tries to catch the skull with the tip of his sword as he rides past. It's not as if Bottle is fast, either way.

Guivre keeps on and his horse does leap over the skull, it is slightly bigger than that of a bull's but more slender in design. Not- that any of them get a good look at it on the way past.

Fiero lags behind and his old plowhorse does not seem keen on jumping skulls. The others are running through farmland before the Blacksmith can catch up.

Eonn slows, but manages to thread the skull onto his sword through the eyesockets as his big mare lumbers past it. He doesn't seem determined to catch up; the old destrier he rides won't beat the other horses, and he knows it. Also, he's now got quite a prize and he looks at it with interest. His horse is a well-behaved thing, and keeps her course.

Madrighal rises up to shoot when he gets close enough, but is nowhere near the marksman he is a rider. He is also a performer, so when the arrow goes wide he tries to bluff, "Halt, or I'll aim for you next time!" He has a thick Dornish accent. his voice is high, but extremely well trained.

Jurian urges his mount onward. He's concentrating too hard on riding to add his voice to Madrighal's, it seems.

If what Eonn captured is a forgery is seems to be a damned good one. The Dragon Skull is from a good sized but hardly massive specimen. He should be able to examine it and still ride comfortably enough…

The Thief is a good rider, his getaway was his grace and fortune. His young horse leaps sideways seconds before the arrow to dodge a patch of corn in a small field. The rider is able to see Madrighal can see the man as he looks back, a dusty complexion and a long goatee. He doesn't say a word but he looks forward again meaning to escape.

Whiskey puts on a burst of speed to draw even with the fleeing scoundral. Madrighal rises again, and matching speeds ims for the man's shoulder, hoping to wound seriously enough to end the chase, but not kill.

The Thief takes an arrow in his left shoulder and is knocked clean from his horse with the impact. The shaft bypasses any major damage but ends up poking from both sides of the man's body. He rolls across the ground and a sharp snap sounds as the shaft of the arrow breaks. He is laid out momentarily from the impact.

Fiero watches Eonn with the skull, he lagged behind too for the same reasons once it looked like the younger riders had the chase. He doesn't call out but he was watching the skull with a weary eye.

Eonn's big mare thunders after. Her rider looks away from the skull to see the thief fall, and slows the big horse.

Madrighal moves Whiskey to block the road North and knocks another arrow, aiming it threateningly. he can only hope the others turn up to take the man into custody as he personally hasn't much in the way of options for that.

The thief's horse (also stolen) has begun to wander off but the man's parcel is on his person. He wears a bag across his torso where he laid in the field. His eyes are closed but it is clear he is a man with dark features. A very bushy brow, a long tapered goatee and slick black hair that fell just past his ears… There was something 'sinister' or perhaps just foreign about his features. He groaned but did not wake.

Eonn simply rides up. He looks to Madrighal. "Shall I take him, or do you want to? I can catch the horse." He's smiling.

Madrighal says, "Best you take him, Eonn, and I catch the horse. I want to know what he thought he was doing."

Eonn nods to Madrighal, and slides down off his mare, beskulled sword still in hand. He crouches beside the fallen man and looks him over. Including that bag. He's curious, and evidently in a state of rather good cheer now. His mare, saddleless and bridleless, doesn't try to go anywhere. Tame creature.

Fiero rides up just a bit behind the rest, his son was already riding after the runaway horse to wrangle it in. The Blacksmith sneers lightly at the sight he rides up on, "I don't like his look." His Qohorik accents perhaps more apparent in light of said look.

Inside the bag of several scrolls written in a tongue only one man present, and awake, could read. There are also several plants and one final scroll in Common. This scroll is the royal decree which appointed Fiero in Oldtown.

Eonn raises his eyebrows at the scrolls, and stares at them, silent.

Madrighal covers Eonn, lest the theif get lively of a sudden. "Anything interesting, eonn of the Rills?" Once it's clear things are under control, he has Whiskey trot off after the other horse. Once caught, he will lead it back.

Eonn doesn't answer the question, but continues to look at the papers, including those he cannot read. He says, absently, "I wonder why he'd want such a thing." He looks at the thief's face again.

Fiero is still on his mount and his boy is distracted by the horse even as Madrighal gets the beast under control. The elder Fireforge watches with a keen interest from his place astride the sloppily saddled work horse, "What's that?"

"Your appointment," says Eonn lazily, "I think." He stands, taking the bag entirely from the unconscious man with one hand as he rises, and then handing the pages over to Fiero.

Madrighal takes the time to calm the stranger's horse, crooning softly at it and blowing in nostrils.

There is a certain twisted innocence in his confusion as he took the bag from Eonn. He shuffles through the scrolls and his heavy brow draws down deeper and deeper the more he seemed to read. "A political attack." He ventures but sounds unsure even as he continues to feverishly read the words in Qohorik.

"Oh?" says Eonn. "Perhaps you will explain?" He smiles. It's not a threatening sort of smile, but it is cold.

"I'm afraid I'm as confused as you are, you don't think he found the dragon skull in the manse?" Fiero shuffles the papers back together and tucks them deep into the bag once more. "Perhaps that was his intended target, the bones hold great significance to the slaves of the Black Forge." And yes, 'slaves' was an interesting(inaccurate) and derogatory word choice in this case.

Eonn looks at the skull. "I've never seen it before," he says. "Funny to drop it, if he wanted it so badly."

Madrighal is at the nose pettins and carrot bits stage of friendship as he leads the olkder horse back, "Slaves of the Black forge?"

"Maybe it was slowing him down." Fiero answers curtly before handing the bag back to Eonn pointedly. "You got your man, if you want help interrogating him. Need help. Just send for me." His curt farewell before he turned and called to his boy. "Let's get these horses back, Guy."

Eonn manages to sheathe his sword with the skull still on it, so the black iron bone stays at his belt. He rolls the scrolls back up and reinserts them in the bag, saying, "Do you think this man a slave?" He bends to take up the unconscious thief.

Fiero doesn't deign to give his opinion at this time and if no one is stopping him the Blacksmith rides off with Guivre back to the manse to finish their work. He rather blithely refuses to be questioned, even if he offered to help with the interrogation.

Madrighal contemplates the skull, "It can't have been easy to see in it, and it is awkward to wear or hold on to in a horse chase…. How can I help, eonn of the Rills?" Obviously not with the heavy lifting, to look at him.

"Lead the horse back?" says Eonn, draping the man over the saddle.

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