A Show for the Ages
Thirtieth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
The aptly named warstriders shook the cobbles where their many legs struck the earth. Perhaps if one was to see them at rest they might be compared to great steel spiders, bearing the weapons of the Emperor, but after witnessing them in motion Uraka Breolis could not bring herself to compare them to something so... spindly. Spiders wove webs and slunk through the dark, unseen and unknown until their poison bite told the tale of their presence. These behemoths were meant to be seen as much as any dragon, as much as the vessels flying above on winds of sorcery. These too were fingers of the Dragon's iron hand, valued as much for their threat as their utility.
Good, she thought with quiet satisfaction. Short-sighted fools thought war was good for business, as nearly broke and desperate princes and magisters took loans they would otherwise not touch, but her long experience had taught Uraka that it was peace that was best of all if you were seeking sustainable growth. Without the real wealth of things being made and sold, of the true economy prospering, iron marks in the vault were so much iron fit only for being reforged into swords or plows. Gold and silver were even worse, pretty baubles fit to adorn the vain. The real wealth of an empire was its people and their work, and if these arcane contraptions could help protect it without even firing a shot in anger, all the better.
She glanced up at the levitating mirror box as it reflected the faces of the crowd, the gleam of dragon scales, the glittering display of the nobles low and high, each seeking to outdo the other in splendor.
Distantly, Uraka recalled one of the history lessons of her girlhood, embedded in her mind more for the strict character of her long dead governess rather than because she had any interest in the subject. It spoke of the men of Sarnor, who crushed the Hairy Men under the wheels of their princes' chariots.
To her it was the sharp-edged warstriders and the beast-like darkenbeasts who were the most important, because they were just artifice made by lesser sorcerers and crewed by common men. The chariots of this new age would not be ridden into battle by nobles, but common folk who owed their oath most clearly to the Empire.
***
Daenerys took the parade as a chance to stretch her wings and look for interesting things from the best of perches. Normally, her silvery wyrmling form would draw too much attention for a public event, but not this one. The nobles of the realm and the realm-to-be had gathered in force and some of them even looked interesting doing it.
There was Zherys, of course, riding upon the Blood Wyrm and wrapped in coronas of his own defensive wards to show his power as a sorcerer. For those with the eyes to see, it worked a treat. Given a choice, Dany would rather fight the dragon than its rider.
But there were also others she had not expected; the Sealord upon a steed of shadow, who in addition to the enchantments she had grown familiar with now wore a circlet of adamantine be-spelled to have the look of black iron set with diamonds to show the duality of Braavos, though the true
power of the thing was just as opaque as Zherys' arcane wards. Ironic that they would be so similar from where she stood, the lords of cities so long rivaled. Dany would take it as a good omen. Lord Bolton rode a dead steed, though it was hard to tell what sort under the articulated black plates that, together with its precise almost mechanical tread, gave it a somewhat insect-like appearance.
Doran was surprising as well, for he rode a being that deserved the name Sand Steed, by
more than the fact that it tread the soil of Dorne, its coat an ever-swirling vortex of particles. He must have bought it off the shaitan or the djinn. She had spotted him speaking with the Adjar Matriarch recently... a bit bold to get your showy horse one day before the parade, but that was the Dornish for you.
Speaking of showy and the Dornish, Oberyn Sandviper was showing up every other count in some kind of sky chariot spun of golden clouds drawn by a pair of sky-touched hippogriffs. Dany happened to know from Elia that the pair of hippogriffs were being paid by the hour. The folk on mirror-vision did not know, so it was all fine by the Count of Golden Fields as he smiled and waved to the crowds, especially the good looking members thereof.
Really, Lord Stark could do with learning some of that good cheer. He was being very somber and proper as he rode along on his boring old horse with no magic save for his ancestral sword and the talismans and wards he wore for his own protection, even those hidden from sight. Even cousin Stannis was smiling... kind of. No wait, that was a real smile right there.
Stannis watching took up the rest of Dany's attention all the way to the palace.
OOC: The two parts are not really thematically connected but since they are two perspectives of the same event I did not try too hard. This is basically 'the parade update'. Plus we have a chance to see the Warstriders a bit more. I don't think we have ever had that pic showed in an update or seen what a person who was not a PC or a trained soldier thought of them. 
