Crossroads of the South
Twenty-Seventh Day of the Sixth Month 293 AC
While Dany seeks her answers in dreams you converse with Yrael of what you have found and what there is yet to do. The archon lord is troubled by talk of sorcerers out of the Shadow, and perhaps even more so by word of the beasts you have found.
"This fiend from the east can be slain, and I trust that he will be by your hand or that of your companions. But if these tainted beasts should surge northwards sustained by the growing tide of magic, I fear these lands will be far more troubled," he explains quietly and though it is not possible to read the radiance within his helm as you might the face of a mortal man his posture grows stiff with weariness, perhaps frustration also at being compelled by circumstance into a part he feels ill-suited for.
"You are not alone, my friend," you offer. "If you have need of more men the Legion can be moved in days. If you require mages then I will send them or come myself."
"And should I have need of dragons in the sky?" the Lord of Mantarys asks.
"Then I will probably also come myself," you answer, playing along. "Dragons can be quite troublesome to manage for one who is not a dragon himself."
"I am aware of that fact," he answers dryly. It takes you a moment to recognized the faintly jesting undertone in the words.
In the end it is decided by both of you that you should make the oath between you known to the world once the matter of Lyceos is dealt with. Further, Naeron agrees that the Mantarys expedition has run its course and it would be too perilous to risk them any further south into the broken lands. You offer the warriors gold and treasure, armor of adamantine, and much to their surprise, dragonsteel for their efforts just the same. Generosity wins one more allies after all.
"What's in those chests of yours?" the bowman asks upon witnessing your generosity, earning himself a glare from one of his more somber companions. Perhaps they fear giving offense knowing that you are their lord's liege, or mayhap they heard too many rumors on the wind.
"A skilled warrior is valuable when fighting with a stick, or no weapon at all, but that does not mean that one should arm and armor them by that same measure. I gift you these things not because of what I have gained, but because of what you may do in the days to come."
Four searching gazes look towards you, some more subtly than others. Judging from their expressions as they take up the weapons, be they merely enchanted or wrought of new-made spell-steel, you had passed whatever weighing they had all set you against.
For all that the first warrior certainly was not wrong in thinking the chests contained prizes of great worth, though not quite in the manner he might have thought. The first holds rare scrolls, from plays to poetry and histories lost to the world, to treatises of architecture and engineering. It is the second, however, that is the most intriguing.
Nestled among silken pillows stitched with spells of timelessness is an egg... not a dragon's egg, but one of a far stranger beast, a firewyrm, such as those that had laid down the dragon roads of old. Alas that you cannot find any notes on how to raise or control the beast for it seems that in the haste of leaving Lyceos they must have been left behind. You had left them in the keeping of Lya and Malarys, though even the two of them together could not read through it all in the span of hours.
Gained Valyrian Documents and Books (Unresearched)
Gained Firewyrm Egg
"She was trying to preserve what lore she could, she
knew," Lya says softly as you approach the stone table in the library where you had laid down the writings for safe-keeping.
"An admirable attempt," Malarys agrees, gaze murky with some unspoken memory as he looks down at a scroll unrolled before him, some fragment of an ode or poem from the look of it. You may not have found much in the way of arcane secrets, but culture is in its own way a prize beyond measure.
You do not have long to ponder the matter, however, for moments later Dany rushes into the room, the guise of an angel still upon her, as clear a mark of one preparing for battle as a knight's harness. "We have to go now! The fiend knows..." she gasps out what she had found in a few short words.
***
The journey is again far from smooth, but you navigate the troubled currents to the end and find yourself again in the spire-filed vale. It is not, however, as you remember it. The grey clouds above are black and tall as the looming mountains, and from them comes rain tainted with vitriol that sears the skin and even slips between your scales and onto the flesh beneath.
"Come on, it's this way!" Dany calls after glancing first at the Wayfinder's dial for direction and then at the horizon. So like an arrow from a bow you fly, following the path laid down in dreams.
You see it first as a light on the horizon through the curtain of grey... you feel the heat upon your scales, the gust beneath your wings, then the earth shakes, the hills twist like the roiling sea.
"Fuck, it's a..." Ser Richard's last word is lost in a savage roar, but it is hardly needed.
A wyrm of boiling stone and living flame tears itself from a wound in the flesh of the land. No, not a dragon, not truly. Something in the shape of one certainly, but this is no more a true dragon than the horror of ice and deathless malice you had encountered in the lands beyond the Wall. Eyeless and tongueless, a thing of rage and more than rage... destruction given form, the Doom on wings of fire come.
For all the horror of is being your gaze is drawn nonetheless to that which lies beneath its wings, to trees burning like torches, to hills that break, and among it all to the strangest sight all but lost among the destruction, a dome of fused dragonstone still enduring the blows shielding whatever lies underneath. It would not last long....
"We have to..." you begin formulating a plan.
"It's a distraction!" Dany shouts over the dreadful din of the storm and dragon. "We have to keep going, or else we will lose the key!" The echo of prophecy is upon her lips, not a spell but something deeper, something older.
What do you do?
[] Fight the dragon, it will only take a few moments
-[] Write in plan
[] Split up
-[] Write in plan
[] Fly on, you've a task, you will not be swayed from your path
-[] Write in plan
OOC: You did not roll too well for loot (14 and 55), but still it's Valyrian loot so pretty good just the same.