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Thread: Fire and Philandery

  1. #1
    Pericles of Athens's Avatar Vicarius Provinciae
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    Default Fire and Philandery

    As he left dragon stone he knew he had two places to stop at, his heart raced, Daemon thought him a pauper pretending to be a dragon and Alton intended to prove him wrong or die in the attempt. Alton headed for the nearest hamlet head held high, many brave and noble men had lost their lives attempting this, if he did the same it would at the very least be a death with dignity.

    The settlement wasn’t a large town, not any sort of town for that matter, but large enough for a village. His first stop was a local farm. He approached an elderly man who tended a flock just outside town. “Rufus.” Alton said as he drew closer. The old man huffed and puffed, as he rose from a seated position to greet him. “Alton! What brings you here?” Alton cleared his throat nervously. “I need.. I need a sheep and a donkey, I’ve money to buy them both.” He took out a coin pouch and shook the contents prompting the loud clattering of coin. “You ain’t a rich man, what coin will you live on?” Alton snorted at the farmer. “Where I’m going I won’t need what’s left of my coin.” If he returned with a dragon he’d be taken care of, if not.. well dead men have no use for gold. “You aren’t attempting the mont.. why of all the lie down idiot brain!” The old man sighed. “Take that one.” He pointed at a particularly plump specimen. “Her meat’ll be sweet, and for a donkey take Bessy, she might be old but she’s strong and you’ll get more use outta her than I will.” Alton thanked the man and set about claiming his prizes, sheep hefted over his neck and donkey following him by a lead.

    Next he went into town, and went directly for the local tavern. When he entered he saw a dank and dim place, a grizzled old man standing behind the bar. “I need two barrels of your strongest and cheapest brew, Jon.” Alton said without pomp or ceremony. “Having a party and didn’t invite me?” The man questioned, with a smirk. “Something like that.. though I doubt you’d want to go to this particular party.” He assured him, and the bar keep nodded suspiciously. “Aye I’ve a couple barrels of some strong brew some farmhand brewed, nasty that I can’t even identify, the royals and their men don’t want it and the peasants don’t have the coin to buy it.. how much you got.” Alton threw him a pouch of coin, all he’d left in the world or near enough to it. “I’ll take it.” The bar keep took the coin and counted, nodding. He helped Alton hook the barrels to Bessy. Alton said his goodbyes, and took a shot of some swill for courage before heading off.

    The mont was rough and dangerous, one wrong step and he’d die at the hand of a sharp stone instead of a dragon. The ascent was slow with the animals, but he made the journey one step at a time. All the while up softly singing a few crude soldier’s songs, they have his failing heart some taste of courage for the moment. With each step he heard the swill in the barrels swish back and forth, again and again, ‘the sound I’ll die to’ he thought grimly. For a moment Alton thought of his mystery father, if he truly was a Targaryen who would have been his sire.. Daemon was old enough, and seedy enough perhaps, maybe the old pirate had a similar thought. He forced his musings from his mind as he approached closer, not knowing what dragon he was in pursuit of. Perhaps he would be lucky enough to find mighty Vermithor or perhaps that papuper’s dragon Daemon spoke of, whichever he prayed it wasn’t the Cannibal..
    Last edited by Pericles of Athens; January 21, 2019 at 09:58 AM.


  2. #2

    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    Alton had been traversing the Mont for some time, the bleak autumn sun beginning to fade behind the clouds. Something was making the animals restless, and the scent of burned meat had begun to overpower the typical stench of sulphur. The source was quickly discovered; a burned human carcass, dismembered and charred, lay on the path before him. Evidently this poor soul, now disfigured beyond recognition, had fallen foul of one of the nearby dragons. Surprisingly, the corpse remained relatively intact, which suggested that the man was not the dragon's intended meal but merely a consequence of the hunt.

  3. #3
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    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    Alton pulled his cloak tighter around his body, good thing the snows had not begun to fall yet, such a journey might have been impossible through the snow. All of a sudden he was hit by the smell of death, replacing the rotten scent of sulfur that permeated the mont. The sheep over his shoulders began to squirm at the scent, and Bessy seemed ready to pull her way back toward shore. But Alton gave a tug and put an end to that.

    Then his eyes fell upon it, a humanoid corpse burned beyond recognition, a gruesome sight that reminded him of the street wars between gangs back home. The body was burnt and torn, but not consumed.. whatever dragon did this was after something else. “I doubt this was the cannibal’s work.. there’d be no body left.” He pronouced to no one in particular. ‘Sheepstealer, or another dragon with a taste for livestock’ he thought, though truth be told all dragons seemed to have a particular taste for plump domesticated animals, ‘came for the man’s livelihood and ended up claiming his life.’

    “We’re on the right track.” He muttered to his companions. “Not much further I suspect.” Poor thing in his arms would be food for certain, that’s why he brought it, something seemed cruel about that even if it were just an animal. However, Alton knew he might share the creature’s fate and that brought him some sense of justice. “Stranger be kind to you.” He said to the corpse, as if it could hear his words. He wondered if the man had a family. A wife, children, a mother, a father.. would they mourn him or maybe his was a name destined to be forgotten as soon as he’d passed from this world.

    Alton forged on, following the smell of charred meat where it would lead. The ground was rocky and unpleasant like the entire island, no forests, flowers, or farms graced the mont.. just bleak stone, the scent of sulfur, and the occasional herd of goats or sheep tended by the smallfolk. It almost made him miss fleabottom, the smell of piss and running like rivers through the gutters. All the same as he crept forward he kept his eyes and ears alert, he’d no intention of meeting the same fate this peasant had.
    Last edited by Pericles of Athens; January 21, 2019 at 11:34 PM.


  4. #4

    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    Alton followed the trail for some time, eventually leading to a vast opening in the side of the mountain, no doubt where molten earth had spewed forth from centuries ago when the volcano last erupted. The ground was littered with bones, some smaller than others, belonging to various animals and humanoids, leading right into the darkness of the cavern. Some had yellowed and chipped with age - perhaps this lair had once belonged to the Black Dread in ages past. Whether it was still inhabited or abandoned couldn't possibly be known, so Alton would have to risk venturing within... Or turning back, and once more braving the steep cliffs.

  5. #5
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    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    The path leading here had been narrow, nearly uncomfortably so, and the bastard had nearly fallen once. Though Bessy’s footing had remained sure. He approached the opening, dwarfed by it, what kind of creature could possibly live in such a place. He regretted the thought almost immediately, a shudder working its way down his spine. “Big cave..” He said, rather plainly, licking his lips. His knees shook, and he could feel the sweat building on the palms of his hands. He closed his eyes, holding back what might have been tears or what might have been the urge to vomit, perhaps both. He could go back, he could flee for fear of what might be inside. On a dragon or in one.. that’s what he promised Daemon, the words echoed in his head. For one reason or another he wanted to prove the man wrong, perhaps because he wasking, or maybe because Alton saw him as a stand in for the father that thought himself above him.

    But, he would never get the chance if he died hunting after the Cannibal, he would prove himself the blood of the dragon.. but not like this. He sighed and stepped back from the lip of the cave, attempting to go back the way he cane, even as he kept his eyes peeled for the denizen that might return to this place. He wouldn’t head back toward town though, he’d head toward the other side of the mont before he’d admit defeat, he’d search the entire island. He’d simply wither to death once he ran out of rations if that’s what it took, he couldn’t bare the thought of looking the people back home in the eyes - and knowing the depth of his own failure. Once at a distance he deemed safe enough he looked toward the sky judging the position of the sun, he knew he couldn’t afford to be out once darkness fell.
    Last edited by Pericles of Athens; January 22, 2019 at 02:36 PM.


  6. #6

    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    Fortune smiled on Alton, for the Cannibal did not emerge from the cave or descend upon him from the skies. An eerie silence reigned, and it was approaching late afternoon as he made his way back along the mountain path. Winter was coming, and so by this time the sun was beginning to sink into the west. No doubt this would force him to set up camp for the night in a suitable spot, or else risk tumbling down the cliffs in the dark. Eventually, he found a suitable spot, a shelf in the mountain that would provide shelter from the elements, the fire beneath the earth warm enough to prevent him freezing to death... But it would do nothing to ward off potential predators.

  7. #7
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    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    Alton took out some supplies, tied his beasts to the stone outcrop, and began collecting some wood. Once he’d a usable amount he’d light a fire, both for warmth and to provide a buffer between his person and whatever lives out there. His bag was small and he’d brought little and less inside of it.. “I doubt I have enough for another night.” He mumbled, though he would attempt to stretch the resources he had into two nights. He kept close the animals, both for shared warmth and what he hoped would be safety.

    The sheep baahed, loudly, almost so loud as to hurt his ears. But, Alton simply nodded with a deep sigh. “It’s gonna be a long night..” He reached into his bag and pulled out some hard bread, and meat so dry it would pucker a man’s lips. He didn’t have much of either, so he’d have to be careful how much he took it. He nibbles at the bread first, then the meat, back and forth for some time. All the whole doing what he could to keep the fire alive. He’d a sword on his belt as well, but he rather keep the predators away entirely if it were an option.

    Eventually he simply couldn’t keep his eyes open any long and fell in and out of sleep, while his back was propped up against the wall of the natural shelf. He dreamt of fleabottom, his mother, but most pertinent he dreamt of dragons.


  8. #8

    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    Night came and went without incident, Alton perhaps being too insignificant (or just too fortunate) to attract the attention of the wild dragons that often prowled the Mont in search of easy meals. The next morning, he begins his search again, and fortune smiles on him again by placing a dragon into his hands. From Driftmark flew a dragon of mottled brown, winged shadow briefly blotting out the sun as it soared overhead. The beast paid Alton no mind, descending from above towards the bottom of the far side of the Dragonmont. It disappeared behind the mountain, though it had left the bastard with a clear idea of how to reach it at least.

  9. #9
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    Default Re: Fire and Philandery

    LAlton has a fitful sleep, periodically awaking to a rustling in the brush or the sounds of rocks sliding down the cliff. He could have sworn he heard the sound of a dragon or two in the night, but none seemed to come close, perhaps they found something more worthy of their attention in the dark. His dreams were no less troubling, blood curdling screams and the smell of burning flesh was all he remembered from them when he awoke that morning.

    The campfire was dead when morning came, a few tiny embers gasping for life against the cool autumn air. He pulled his cloak tighter, the animals were already awake munching on a few stray blades of grass and sickly weeds that grew on this part of the mont. Alton found his footing and rose to his full height with a yawn, stretching his arms. He took a few more bites of the bread and ate the last of the dried meat. Before leaving he stamped out what remained of the fire.

    He set out again, hefting the sheep over his shoulders and bidding Bessy to follow closely. He was tired still and sore from sleeping on the hard exposed stone of the mont, but his determination drove him ever onward. The Seven once again blessed his journey late that morning, as a winged shadow blocked out the sun as a dragon flew overhead. ‘That one..’ he thought proudly, as he looked on the beast with awe. ‘That one is my dragon..’ he exhaled through his nose. “I just know it.” The creature flew like the wind and as soon as it came it had vanished toward the other side of the mont, but Alton was no lout in this as he sped after it as quickly as Bessy and her slushing barrels of alcohol would allow.

    He had a good idea of where it had gone, and trusted his instinct and a bit of luck to lead him true. As he went he once again pondered his condition, he wondered if things would truly change if he was able to claim the beast, if he rode atop such a creature would he even find respect, admiration, would they even give him a name? He wondered if this was all some joke at his expense, let the bastard die trying to claim a dragon and if he does send him to die under Vhagar’s flame. But, he steeled his resolve, he would try all the same and if he succeeded none could doubt his blood even if they still doubted his worth.
    Last edited by Pericles of Athens; January 23, 2019 at 09:53 PM.


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