From Dreams Undying
Twenty-Ninth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
After lunch you and Tyene set off in search of Prince Oberyn and the two fey who had fought at his side, for both in their own way presented intriguing opportunities.
From Tyene you learn that Silore had long ago guarded the rich banks of the Lhorulu river and those who dwelt upon them. However, unlike many of her kin, she had not dared to face the might of the Freehold. Seeing so many elder and stronger than her fall to the power of the Dragonlords, the green-clad fey fell into despair and from despair to slumber, dreaming deep throughout all the changes of the world.
"We found her guarding a small village already, and after we established we meant neither her charges nor her any ill will she was more than glad to point us at the bandits we were hunting and even some of her less kindly fey kin," your friend continues. A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. "About the only thing she objected to was Bronn trying to bed her."
"Wondering if your father fared any better?" you ask, amused.
"Knowing him I have every confidence that he did or he will soon," she replies at once. "The real question is whether I will be getting a new sister out of it."
While you would not be willing to wager whether or not Prince Oberyn has succeeded or not in seducing the fey lady, seeing them wandering side by side through the great godswood, their eyes more often to each other than at the paths they tread, certainly shows that he is making every effort at it.
"Enjoying the walk?" Tyene asks slyly. "I have never seen you quite so fascinated by nature before, father."
Before the Red Viper can offer a rejoinder, Silore interjects: "It is peaceful here, like a lake on a calm summer day, but old memories of strife linger in the depths. Have they not had their fill of blood?" She motions sadly in the direction of the Heart Tree.
"Some have, their voices fading into slumber or turned to more constructive ends. Others will follow I am certain," you reply. Were this a less public place you might have hinted at Bloodraven's role, but for now your word alone is all you can give.
Thankfully that seems to be enough for the green-shrouded lady to move on to happier thoughts. "I am glad to see such green-growing places here in the heart of your power, Dragonlord. Your ancestors were less kindly to that which could not be turned fully to their will. They had gardens set in neatly ordered rows and lines so sharp as to pain the eye to look upon."
"My ancestors were foolish in many regards, my lady, their fate bespeaks of it," you answer her, seeing no reason to defend Valyria against one who has suffered from its wars. "I do not seek to raise it from its grave as so many suspect, but instead to build a new thing that will the be root and branch of all of us willing to stand against the foes of all life and reason."
"You give me hope that Oberyn of the line of Ny Sar did not misjudge you..." she begins.
"Ny Sar?" Tyene turns to her father chidingly. "Did you somehow forget to mention that we come from a land where the rabbits can die of exhaustion running between blades of grass in most places?"
Silore laughs, though there is a melancholy edge to it. "I have never been to this Dorne, a young realm risen up as I slumbered, so to me it seems less real than the fallen cities over which the grass grows. Perhaps some day I will see the Water Gardens I have heard so much about, and in turn you shall see the City of a Thousand Fountains, for while water may not sing with joy upon the stone its voice is still worthy of hearing."
"Just as long as no dead ancestors start dispensing advice, I get enough of that from my living kin," Prince Oberyn breaks the melancholy mood, intentionally you suspect.
"There are no unquiet dead in Ny Sar for her people live," Silore replies, a gentle smile on her face as she looks between Tyene and her father.
"One less thing to worry about as we reclaim the lost lands, then," you say. Then having long since learned why she has made the journey to Sorcerer's Deep, for Silore made no secret of it, you add. "Speaking of reclamation, I know you care for the folk of your lands as deeply as you do for any other part of them. Would you rule over them justly in accordance to the law of the land no different than a mortal lord or lady?" You will not stand for the pretensions of different laws between mortal and fey as Dusk Dancer asked for, but by the same token you see no reason to forbid the fey from holding the same powers and responsibilities as men.
Joy sparks in her eyes and she speaks quickly, like the rustle of leaves in a swift spring wind: "A mortal I am not, Dragonlord, so I would rule differently than most, with an eye for the passing of centuries not months, but there are those who could aid me in making up for being slow to act and change—estate managers they are called, or castellans in the Sunset Lands. I would seek to preserve as much as I could the beauty of nature and the rhythms of the land, though none would know want or hunger for it. Would you offer the lands onto me, under your laws, knowing this?"
What do you reply?
[] Agree, Silore gets a barony over the lands she has long watched over as a vassal of Oberyn Sandviper
[] Impose further conditions
-[] Write in
[] Refuse, she does not seem fit for the role
***
It is Dany who joins you when searching for your next guest, for Oberyn had shared with you an interesting detail about Dirriz Bluecloak—she had grown in power from the echo of Amrelath's unveiling his true nature in the Circle, for though she is fey, a being a mischief and trickery, she is also a dragon moved by the instincts of elder blood. Supposedly the little blue mischief-maker came here to grow her hoard with the spoils of victory after a rather successful run of doing so in the Reach, be it by trickery, taking from those she felt disrespected by, or by genuinely helping those who were able to get in her good graces.
So far an interesting tale but one of no momentous weight, were it not for the fact that some of Dirriz's spells are of healing and hex-craft more commonly the work of gods, not arcane power. Something, s
omeone, spoke to her through her dreams and called on her to gather a hoard and through that hoard to be granted ever-greater boons.
Neither you nor Dany can imagine Tiamat making use of so frivolous a servant, or of having them reveal themselves so openly, but even still the faint possibility of Her meddling is enough to impel urgency upon your steps.
You find the Faerie Dragon sunning herself on a bench surrounded by a handful of children. She is pretending to sleep and occasionally snorting a small puff of colorful smoke for the benefit of her audience.
Dany takes a deep breath and calls on her magic to
see the truth of the azure spirit's nature."It's
not Her, but I'm not sure who..." she shakes her head. "I'm just seeming a spiral twisting upon itself, a flickering flame growing ever steadier. It's certainly not the God of Lost Dragons either, and I know of no other who has dominion over the souls of dragonkind."
What do you do?
[] Question Dirriz about her powers
-[] Write in
[] Try to recruit her
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: Dirriz was originally going to be an oracle of Astilabor, but I did not want to introduce another god out of the blue, there are already enough of those for you guys to interact with. So instead the Faerie Dragon is something of a mystery, since she is getting visions from something dragon-themed that is not Tiamat or Bahamut. Also I went back and changed Dirriz to female since that is how @Artemis1992 first made the character.
... I was thinking about the Iron throne ..."