The Half-Forgotten Land
Twenty-Sixth Day of the Fifth Month 292 AC
If the people of Dragonstone are insular and unwelcoming of outsiders, then the dour folk of Crackclaw Point can be called that a hundred times over. Amid these treacherous gorges and dark pine forests the dour clansmen have held out against their far mightier neighbors for millennia in some ways like the Mountain Clans of the Vale of Aryn. There is however one fundamental difference: where the clans of the Mountains of the Moon cast off all ties to the wider world and contented themselves with living as brigands on the broken ground and in the ancient ruins of their forefathers, the Pointsmen, grudgingly and with much grumbling, kept the peace with those who offered them no quarrel. They tilled their meager stony land and they plied the sea for fish changing only slowly with the march of time... until the Conquest.
Alone among the fractious Houses of Blackwater Bay they bent the knee to Aegon without a fight, and for their wisdom they were rewarded with enduring royal favor. More of the Kingsguard come from this lonely promontory then from any other place in the Seven Kingdoms, from here kings and princes had picked their squires and sent their sons to be taught the ways of knighthood in turn... yet before you set down upon these lands and began speaking to the smallfolk, truly looking about with the eyes of a common traveler you never realized how different the Faith was in this corner of the realm, a mere stone's throw from King's Landing.
You see leafy branches and small bowls of wine left by crossroad shrines and septons walking about in the dress of fishermen or farmers rather than the robes they bear even in far off Braavos. On the road to Dire Den in a small dusty village of scarce fifty souls you even see a weirwood growing behind a sept... not a Heart tree no, but the Old Gods have not yet left these lands to the stewardship of the New for the memories of the Pointsmen run deep.
You take on the guise of a scholar from King's Landing interested in the tales of the area and Dany as your young apprentice going from place to place and simply paying people to tells stories not just of the "Squishers," and fish men but of the dragons said to have laired here in the Age of Heroes and the exploits of Clarence Crabb and the whispering severed heads of his foes. In these ancient tales, told and retold until the edges have worn off the words in the telling you can hear still the echoes of a time long past... a time that is awakening once more.
Those tales are the hardest to pull loose for fear hangs thick and cloying about them... and for good reason. Step by step you backtrack a thread of such a sighting to a coastal village on the edge of the roaring sea... and there you find what you had been seeking: someone who had seen these squishers with their own eyes. There is only one problem: the poor man was driven mad by his ordeal, his frantic warnings devolving into more and more frenzied behavior every day until, you are told, he had to be chained to a post day and night to keep him from walking into the sea to die.
What do you do?
[] Reveal Dany's magic and have her cure the witness
[] Seek out another lead
[] Write in
OOC: A bit more local flavor since you did not roll an encounter.