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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 1:48:35 GMT -5
"No," Aegon answered tiredly. He had no desire to trade insults, and chose not to be baited into anger. "So be it." he replied, as if it made no difference to him either way. "Though it would be unchivalrous of me to not warn you of the death your stubborn ignorance will bring."
"We have been doing a great deal of trade with Ibben lately." the knight continued, with a seemingly bizarre change of topic. "Do you know what their main export is?"
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Horas
Westeros 
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Jan 16, 2014 1:54:49 GMT -5
"You seem to wish to tell me, Ser Hector," Aegon said.
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 2:50:16 GMT -5
From the clouds above, Rhaegar could not make out a great deal. The walls were bristling with men that looked the size of ants and every inch that could be fitted with a ballista had been. As suspected, each sept in the city had been fortified for use as a Warriors Son stronghold, so that even when the gates fell the city would not be easily won. The Citadel and Starry Sept seemed to be the most fortified besides the Hightower itself, with ballistae crews keeping their eyes fixed to the air. The Hightower itself had been repurposed for one use: knocking dragons from the sky. Each of its six levels bristles with ballista that gave it a clear 360 degree commanding view of the city. Strangely, the beacon which had guided ships into the Harbor for centuries, had been removed. In its place was a large steel dome. From his height, Rhaegar could not make out much else. Rhaegar dipped lower on Vermax, as low as he dared, to what, with his knowledge of battle, he estimated was the furtherest range of the ballistae. Using his dragon's speed and youth and his own excellent dragon handling abilities to avoid being struck by any firing ballistae, he strained his eyes to see if he could make a rough count of the men on the walls. Rhaegar determined that if any ballistae were fired at him he would immediately break off and return to the camp with the news of what he had observed. -Expert: Dragon Handling (+5 to Dragon Handling Rolls while on Vermax.)
-Noteworthy: Land Battle, Had the normal ballistae been all Rhaegar had to concern himself with, he likely would have been correct. He was well out of range of the "typical" ballistae that lined the walls and towers of Oldtown, seemingly filling every spare space available. However, as he drew closer to the domed Hightower, he realized that the dome atop it was not entirely solid. It had large slits down the side and a round hole at the top, giving it the appearance of an apple slicer. From within its depths probed the weapon which the Faith Militant had named the Father's Fist, though the smallfolk of Oldtown affectionately referred to as the Flyswatter. It was a ballista of massive proportions, a weapon fit to cap one of the 9 Wonders Made By Man. It was a marvel of Citadel ingenuity, Ibbeneese efficiency, and Rhoynish design. It fired colossal whaling harpoons, so heavy they took a dozen men to reload the instrument of war and wind the complicated system of pulleys to create the necessary torsion required to send them flying. It was said that with a fair wind and the advantage of the Hightower's height, the weapon's range extended from Battle Island to Oldtown's curtain wall.
The practiced crew, all veterans at the art after having brought down Quicksilver from the air years ago, took careful aim and fired the weapon. The force of the torsion being released sent a shockwave that sent white-capped waves out from Battle Island, the harpoon sailing towards the air towards its likely surprised target. To Rhaegar's credit, or perhaps Vermax's, the beast reacted rapidly. The nimble young dragon dodged what would have likely been a mortal blow to the chest, the harpoon head instead passing clean through its right thigh, the barbed head catching firmly in his scales. As Rhaegar whipped Vermax to flee, he saw to his horror the true worry of the device. Much like a whaler's harpoon, a line had been attached from the shaft of the projectile; a heavy chain of the same sort used to keep the monsters confined to the Dragonpit. The other end was attached somewhere within the domed structure. As when a whale was hunted and slain, the purpose of the initial shot was to limit the dragon's mobility and draw it in slowly for the kill. There was a sound of cranking, similar to that made when an iron portcullis is raised, and foot by struggling foot Vermax was being drawn slowly into range of the scores of ballistae that lined the Hightower's ramparts.
[Vermax takes an average wound. He must now pass a difficult strength test to free himself, receive aid, or escape through some creative manner. Good luck.]
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Post by Foo Foo Cuddly-poops on Jan 16, 2014 2:54:15 GMT -5
Aemon who had been watching the sky over Oldtown looks up at the sound of the heavy ballista being fired, He watches as Vermaz takes the bolt to its thigh and is started to get drawn into the dome. Aemon scrambles up and looking over to a few squires and men-at-arms, "Go gather rocks." He states urgenty, "About fist size, and gather them in a large pile over there." He finishes up as the men he had addressed hurried off to gather them.
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 3:46:33 GMT -5
"You seem to wish to tell me, Ser Hector," Aegon said. "Whale oil." he explained, pulling a small glass capsule out of his pocket that upon inspection contained a few drops of an amber liquid. Hector had no notable reaction to the sound of the Father's Fist being fired. It was clearly something the High Marshal had become accustomed to in the long hours forcing the crews to practice. "The maesters have been using it for years to light their lamps. It has an awful smell, but burns longer and brighter than a candle. Upon experimenting with the substance, it was found that refining it yielded some unique properties."
Hector hurled the vial as far as he could to the side. As it struck the ground, there was a sound like a thunderclap and a bright flash that sent clumps of dirt flying. Aegon's horse reared up in fear with a high whinny, but Hector's own destrier remained stoic, not even flinching. Where the vial had struck, only a crater remained.
"The men have taken to calling it Mother's Tears, shed bitterly as she watched you ungodly abominations butcher thousands of her children." the Dragonbane said coldly, when the dust had cleared.
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Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Jan 16, 2014 4:02:00 GMT -5
To his credit, Aegon did not flinch at the sound of the Father's Fist firing, and his neutral expression tightened only a fraction as he saw Rhaegar's dragon struggle like a fish caught on a fisher's line. But he was forced to hang on as his horse reared, and the creature only calmed reluctantly.
Aegon did not look at Ser Hector, instead watching Vermax far above. "You have been fighting this war since before I was born," Aegon stated. Rage or righteousness would have been understandable, but Aegon's tone was distant. "With all of its burned fields, slain sons, and raped daughters. And now your cause has been pushed back to this little corner of the world. Does it honor the Gods, Ser? Have you found your struggle to be worth it?"
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 4:15:43 GMT -5
"I fought in the blood and muck and dragonflame while you were still a suckling babe. I took the Hightower when your father was in swaddling clothes. I have endured the reign of four abominations born of incest and will welcome the Stranger to take me before I endure a fifth upon the throne, though I swear each of the Seven will have their due before I depart. That is how I honor the Gods and mark my words they will reward our faith here in the land of the living or in the Seven Heavens above." he intoned, a man that took no pleasure in the butchery but knew in his heart that he fought a righteous cause. "This 'little corner of the world' is Westeros! The Faith is Westeros! Each day faithful men draw breath with the Seven in their hearts and hold its walls, free from the rule of monsters, I consider it a victory!"
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 6:32:17 GMT -5
At the firing of the huge harpoon, Elseyris looked up to see Vermax thrashing against it's pull. It was an awful sight, as she realised what it was, but she tried to steel her mind and estimate how long the chain was. She had no intention of letting Nenyan or the others get skewered upon the contraption.
When the loud bang sounded nearer by, her eyes darted to the bright flash near where Aegon and Ser Hector were, thinking the worst, feeling her breath catch, as she instinctively began to move. However, seeing that both were still standing, she stopped herself.
She could not have counted how many times she had silently prayed already today, but she began again, watching the scene with a forced mask of determination over her abject terror.
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Maekar
Site Council 
Sam/BlueLion
Posts: 1,437
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Post by Maekar on Jan 16, 2014 7:12:29 GMT -5
"Bloody fool," Maekar muttered, as he saw the massive chained harpoon impale Rhaegar's dragon. He immediately realized the danger of the weapon, which would tether a dragon in place and draw it into the range of the scores of ballistae that lined the tower and walls. It effectively created a dome of protected airspace over the entire city, and Maekar judged its ceiling to be about 3,300 feet off the ground, 2,500 above the top of the Hightower itself. A dragon could fly that high, with a rider and gear, but much higher and the rider would begin to get delirious as the oxygen thinned.
He moved quickly to the fields off away from the army, where men were practicing with the mock-wildfire barrels, that were currently filled with water instead of the substance itself. They had cunningly rigged up a design where a pair of barrels were connected to the opposite ends of a stout chain, which itself was wrapped around a wheel. The barrels were tied to each other so they would not jostle during flight, and the chain was hung on a cunningly designed harness that held it up into the air about eight feet, so that a low flying dragon could grab it and yank it up into the air. As he watched, Trajan flew by on Zyraxes and the dragon grabbed at the wheel with its rear claws, getting a good grip on the chain and pulling the wheel and barrels into the air.
Maekar whistled loudly for Cyrax and when the dragon approached, he mounted it and attempted his own practice run. Dropping the wildfire with accuracy from such a height would be problematic, but first they had to be sure they could even get it into the air safely.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 7:35:37 GMT -5
Daenya's purple eyes shifted back to Elsie, surprised at the girl's closeness. "I... I suppose I could," She said, managing another smile. "Tell me what you would have me do and I will do my best. I promise." "Under here," she said, tapping her breastplate, "is a necklace that I've worn most of my life. It means a lot to me, it is made from one of Nenyan's teeth from when he was just a hatchling. It has always reminded me of my family. If need be, see that my mother gets it. Also, in my tent, there is a small red carved resin dragon. It was a gift from Lord Darklyn, years ago. My mother and Willem Darklyn are the two people whose hearts I broke by coming here, I would not leave them without something to remember me by." Elseyris glanced downwards briefly, her feelings of awkwardness at being candid showing. Her sad brown eyes met Daenya's once more; "Under the carved dragon is a letter. If I am lost to the enemy, see that it reaches the Prince's hands, and his only." She turned her gaze back towards no-man's land; "That's all, really. It's strange how few things truly matter when death is such a close possibility." Elseyris was fighting sorrowful tears, but was determined not to look weak in front of Maekar, Daenya, and the other soldiers. Daenya listened quietly to her cousin and when she was done she nodded, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. "You will be alright, Elsie, I know. But if it should happen then... then I will do these things for you. In return, should I die..." She paused and looked away, taking a deep breath. "Tell my family that at least one of me loved them." It was then that Rhaegar's dragon was struck, and that an explosion ripped through the air. Daenya shied back, before looking up into the sky. "Oh no... she whispered, voice full of dread. |
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Post by Lord Jacaerys Velaryon on Jan 16, 2014 8:05:31 GMT -5
Rhaegar dipped lower on Vermax, as low as he dared, to what, with his knowledge of battle, he estimated was the furtherest range of the ballistae. Using his dragon's speed and youth and his own excellent dragon handling abilities to avoid being struck by any firing ballistae, he strained his eyes to see if he could make a rough count of the men on the walls. Rhaegar determined that if any ballistae were fired at him he would immediately break off and return to the camp with the news of what he had observed. -Expert: Dragon Handling (+5 to Dragon Handling Rolls while on Vermax.)
-Noteworthy: Land Battle, Had the normal ballistae been all Rhaegar had to concern himself with, he likely would have been correct. He was well out of range of the "typical" ballistae that lined the walls and towers of Oldtown, seemingly filling every spare space available. However, as he drew closer to the domed Hightower, he realized that the dome atop it was not entirely solid. It had large slits down the side and a round hole at the top, giving it the appearance of an apple slicer. From within its depths probed the weapon which the Faith Militant had named the Father's Fist, though the smallfolk of Oldtown affectionately referred to as the Flyswatter. It was a ballista of massive proportions, a weapon fit to cap one of the 9 Wonders Made By Man. It was a marvel of Citadel ingenuity, Ibbeneese efficiency, and Rhoynish design. It fired colossal whaling harpoons, so heavy they took a dozen men to reload the instrument of war and wind the complicated system of pulleys to create the necessary torsion required to send them flying. It was said that with a fair wind and the advantage of the Hightower's height, the weapon's range extended from Battle Island to Oldtown's curtain wall.
The practiced crew, all veterans at the art after having brought down Quicksilver from the air years ago, took careful aim and fired the weapon. The force of the torsion being released sent a shockwave that sent white-capped waves out from Battle Island, the harpoon sailing towards the air towards its likely surprised target. To Rhaegar's credit, or perhaps Vermax's, the beast reacted rapidly. The nimble young dragon dodged what would have likely been a mortal blow to the chest, the harpoon head instead passing clean through its right thigh, the barbed head catching firmly in his scales. As Rhaegar whipped Vermax to flee, he saw to his horror the true worry of the device. Much like a whaler's harpoon, a line had been attached from the shaft of the projectile; a heavy chain of the same sort used to keep the monsters confined to the Dragonpit. The other end was attached somewhere within the domed structure. As when a whale was hunted and slain, the purpose of the initial shot was to limit the dragon's mobility and draw it in slowly for the kill. There was a sound of cranking, similar to that made when an iron portcullis is raised, and foot by struggling foot Vermax was being drawn slowly into range of the scores of ballistae that lined the Hightower's ramparts.
[Vermax takes an average wound. He must now pass a difficult strength test to free himself, receive aid, or escape through some creative manner. Good luck.]
Rhaegar screamed repeatedly at Vermax to pull himself free, urging the young dragon in a direction where he thought the barb could be most easily passed through his leg. He realised that it was probably futile but drew his sword and beat down on the harpoon as hard as he could to dent the barbs that were impeding his dragon's freedom. If Vermax couldn't get off via this method, Rhaegar knew he would have no choice but to use Vermax's own dragonfire to hopefully melt the barbs in order to free himself. He was determined to do anything it took, to free his only friend and get away from Oldtown. [Use whatever abilities I need to use to get Vermax off the harpoon] OOC: I'm at Ben Gurion airport at Tel Aviv waiting to board a plane which has been delayed. Not sure how often I can post in the next 48 hours. Will try to get on at Bangkok. |
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Horas
Westeros
is Horas.
Posts: 1,146
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Post by Horas on Jan 16, 2014 11:39:08 GMT -5
"I fought in the blood and muck and dragonflame while you were still a suckling babe. I took the Hightower when your father was in swaddling clothes. I have endured the reign of four abominations born of incest and will welcome the Stranger to take me before I endure a fifth upon the throne, though I swear each of the Seven will have their due before I depart. That is how I honor the Gods and mark my words they will reward our faith here in the land of the living or in the Seven Heavens above." he intoned, a man that took no pleasure in the butchery but knew in his heart that he fought a righteous cause. "This 'little corner of the world' is Westeros! The Faith is Westeros! Each day faithful men draw breath with the Seven in their hearts and hold its walls, free from the rule of monsters, I consider it a victory!" "The Seven spared my life," Aegon said slowly. "They brought me back to health. They gave me wings." He was still watching Vermax try to free himself from the vicious harpoon. "I have wondered at their purpose for a long time. But I think... I think I am still here to right the wrongs. To put an end to the fire and blood and return peace to Westeros. And I have wondered that if that is the Gods' design for me, why do they push so inexorably towards war? But I see now. We can never have true peace as long as men like you yet breathe. And so we will have Fire and Blood one more time." Aegon wheeled his horse around. "May the Father judge us justly." |
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 17:37:50 GMT -5
"I fought in the blood and muck and dragonflame while you were still a suckling babe. I took the Hightower when your father was in swaddling clothes. I have endured the reign of four abominations born of incest and will welcome the Stranger to take me before I endure a fifth upon the throne, though I swear each of the Seven will have their due before I depart. That is how I honor the Gods and mark my words they will reward our faith here in the land of the living or in the Seven Heavens above." he intoned, a man that took no pleasure in the butchery but knew in his heart that he fought a righteous cause. "This 'little corner of the world' is Westeros! The Faith is Westeros! Each day faithful men draw breath with the Seven in their hearts and hold its walls, free from the rule of monsters, I consider it a victory!" "The Seven spared my life," Aegon said slowly. "They brought me back to health. They gave me wings." He was still watching Vermax try to free himself from the vicious harpoon. "I have wondered at their purpose for a long time. But I think... I think I am still here to right the wrongs. To put an end to the fire and blood and return peace to Westeros. And I have wondered that if that is the Gods' design for me, why do they push so inexorably towards war? But I see now. We can never have true peace as long as men like you yet breathe. And so we will have Fire and Blood one more time." Aegon wheeled his horse around. "May the Father judge us justly." "May the Mother grant you mercy, boy." Ser Hector said, wheeling his horse back towards his own lines. "For I will not." |
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 17:55:25 GMT -5
Had the normal ballistae been all Rhaegar had to concern himself with, he likely would have been correct. He was well out of range of the "typical" ballistae that lined the walls and towers of Oldtown, seemingly filling every spare space available. However, as he drew closer to the domed Hightower, he realized that the dome atop it was not entirely solid. It had large slits down the side and a round hole at the top, giving it the appearance of an apple slicer. From within its depths probed the weapon which the Faith Militant had named the Father's Fist, though the smallfolk of Oldtown affectionately referred to as the Flyswatter. It was a ballista of massive proportions, a weapon fit to cap one of the 9 Wonders Made By Man. It was a marvel of Citadel ingenuity, Ibbeneese efficiency, and Rhoynish design. It fired colossal whaling harpoons, so heavy they took a dozen men to reload the instrument of war and wind the complicated system of pulleys to create the necessary torsion required to send them flying. It was said that with a fair wind and the advantage of the Hightower's height, the weapon's range extended from Battle Island to Oldtown's curtain wall.
The practiced crew, all veterans at the art after having brought down Quicksilver from the air years ago, took careful aim and fired the weapon. The force of the torsion being released sent a shockwave that sent white-capped waves out from Battle Island, the harpoon sailing towards the air towards its likely surprised target. To Rhaegar's credit, or perhaps Vermax's, the beast reacted rapidly. The nimble young dragon dodged what would have likely been a mortal blow to the chest, the harpoon head instead passing clean through its right thigh, the barbed head catching firmly in his scales. As Rhaegar whipped Vermax to flee, he saw to his horror the true worry of the device. Much like a whaler's harpoon, a line had been attached from the shaft of the projectile; a heavy chain of the same sort used to keep the monsters confined to the Dragonpit. The other end was attached somewhere within the domed structure. As when a whale was hunted and slain, the purpose of the initial shot was to limit the dragon's mobility and draw it in slowly for the kill. There was a sound of cranking, similar to that made when an iron portcullis is raised, and foot by struggling foot Vermax was being drawn slowly into range of the scores of ballistae that lined the Hightower's ramparts.
[Vermax takes an average wound. He must now pass a difficult strength test to free himself, receive aid, or escape through some creative manner. Good luck.]
Rhaegar screamed repeatedly at Vermax to pull himself free, urging the young dragon in a direction where he thought the barb could be most easily passed through his leg. He realised that it was probably futile but drew his sword and beat down on the harpoon as hard as he could to dent the barbs that were impeding his dragon's freedom. If Vermax couldn't get off via this method, Rhaegar knew he would have no choice but to use Vermax's own dragonfire to hopefully melt the barbs in order to free himself. He was determined to do anything it took, to free his only friend and get away from Oldtown. [Use whatever abilities I need to use to get Vermax off the harpoon] OOC: I'm at Ben Gurion airport at Tel Aviv waiting to board a plane which has been delayed. Not sure how often I can post in the next 48 hours. Will try to get on at Bangkok. The harpoon's barbs were lodged deep into Vermax's scales, the dragon's struggling only driving them deeper as the beast was slowly reeled in. The bests flames proved no more useful against the tempered steel the projectile was constructed of, Vermax far too young for its flames to generate enough heat to melt it. Rhaegar was close enough now, that he could see the scores of ballistae below fixing on his position, waiting for the monster to be in range.
[1 more round until Vermax is in in range of the ballistae. If Vermax has not freed himself or received aid by that point, it's going to be like shooting fish in a barrel.]
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 18:20:27 GMT -5
Dany's hand flew to her mouth when she saw Vermax get hit by a chained harpoon, which started dragging the beast down towards the dome along with his rider, much to her horror. She looked to her cousins, who were all standing there rather motionlessly, but before she could even take a step in their direction, something blew up in the field where Prince Aegon and Dragonbane were meeting.
She looked to Mith and noticed that the hand she'd been holding on his neck was trembling. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in an attempt to gain her self control. For a moment that seemed to last ages, her mind was blank. Then - Courage is not the absence of fear, but the mastery of it, she thought to herself, repeating in her head what her Braavosi teacher had always told her. Her thoughts became a mumble, which then became quiet words as she felt her way to Mith's saddle. Once in the saddle, she opened her eyes to see Aegon riding towards them while Vermax was helplessly flapping his wings above Oldtown.
Her words were loud and clear now as she kicked her heels to Mith's sides and cracked the whip. With a roar, the dragon took off, flying towards his trapped kin at the highest speed he could. Daenerys could only hope his flame was hot enough to melt the chain. While not the most clever dragon of the lot, Mith was smart enough to know what was expected of him, already emitting smoke from his nostrils as he prepared himself for the obvious command, Dracarys.
As they got closer, however, Dany saw what Maekar and Rhaegar had seen before her - city walls and towers riddled with ballistas. An ugly sight, which would definitely not give her a lot of time. Instead of burning the chain, she shouted another order to Mith, who then flew above the struggling Vermax to grab its rider from his saddle.
[Noteworthy Dragon Handling, +5 Fire]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 18:50:03 GMT -5
Daenya saw Dany dart off, looked back up to the dragon. That chain looked familiar, its design the same as those in the Dragon Pit.
And then she remembered; a time when Vandaras had melted the chain that bound him and had almost flown from the pit. She felt the blood rush to her head, felt herself go into a daze. It would have to be now, otherwise Rhaegar and his dragon would be lost.
"Wait!!" She shouted after Dany, already running towards Vandaras and climbing on the saddle. She took off and flew towards Vermax, with the attempt to have Vandaras melt the chain with dragonfire in one swift pass, to make herself less vulnerable to attack.
[Noteworthy Dragon Handling, Esteemed +5 Fire]
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 19:18:00 GMT -5
As Daenerys tried to have her dragon scoop Rhaegar from his saddle, it occurred to her that the four chains that served as a harness to hold him in were still fixed as well as the large one binding the saddle to the beast. She would have to fly beside him to undo them if she wished to free him.
Vandaras' first attempt to melt the chain were unsuccessful, the dragon's fiery breath only making the steel glow red. Another pass and perhaps it would break. Fortunately, none fired at Daenya as she passed into ballista range. All the crew seemed fixed intently upon the dragon slowly being pulled towards them.
As the dragon passed the last foot into range of the weapons at the top of the tower, marked cunningly by a link in the chain painted white, the tower's commander gave the signal to fire. All at once, the Seven Hells were unleashed upon the dragon struggling like a fish on a hook. Not just one volley flew from the sky, but multiple, the Citadel having modified them to fire again and again without the need to reload. This was accomplished through a complex assortment of gears which powered a chain drive that placed explosive bolt after explosive bolt into the firing slot.
The first volley was largely inaccurate at its maximum range, only one striking Vermax in the belly. The bolts were topped with blunt steel cannisters, filled with Mother's Tears, which allowed them to explode on impact in a volatile combustion. Vermax screeched in pain and terror as a large gaping wound was left in its stomach, black scales raining off him like ash during a forest fire. The concussion of the blast upon the small dragon also knocked Rhaegar unconscious.
[Vermax takes another Average Wound.]
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 19:23:02 GMT -5
Daenya cursed as she saw the chain remain intact, though her curses died in her throat when she saw the hell that was unleashed on Vermax. She screamed when she saw the beast struck. Blood gushed and the dragon screamed in pain, and Daenya knew that she would be next.
"I am so sorry!!" She shouted as loud as she could, before having Vandaras veer off back to the position on ground. Even as she flew to safety she cursed herself for a coward.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 19:44:30 GMT -5
The explosion was exactly what Dany had just seen on the field, except on a much larger scale, and it left her speechless - not that she'd had anything to say anyway. Still, she cracked the whip one more time and in one swift motion, Mith brought himself down to Vermax's level so Dany could have one last attempt at freeing her unconscious cousin from his saddle. She was ready to double back at the sight of these terrible fiery bolts, though.
[Noteworthy Dragon Handling, Fresh +5 Fire]
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 19:58:48 GMT -5
Nimble and agile in the air, Mithrax sidled up gracefully next to Virmax, who was thrashing violently with its rider unconscious and a gaping wound in its stomach. Dany managed to undo the harness chains holding Rhaegar and in place, and pull the unconscious man from his flailing mount. Explosions filled the air around them as the ballistae continued to fire, though most concentrated on the harpooned dragon.
With Rhaegar firmly slumped over Mithrax, Dany whipped the beast high into the air and back towards the royal encampment. Behind her, Varmax met its grisly demise, struggling weakly against the chain as bolt after bolt exploded against him. Its wings were tattered and torn as it began to tire in the air, until one was blown clean off, leaving a steaming stump. As the beast tried to stay aloft, it came into range of the ballistae on the lower levels. In a shower of gore, chunk after chunk was taken out of the once majestic beast, until just a mangled torso came crashing against the side of the Hightower. It was at this point that the crew released the line, Vermax's remains sliding off the ramparts to crash down into the rocks of Battle Island and waters of the Whispering Sound below.
It seemed Ser Hector had another dragon skull to add to his banner; the Warrior had his due now.
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Maekar
Site Council
Sam/BlueLion
Posts: 1,437
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Post by Maekar on Jan 16, 2014 20:01:20 GMT -5
"Bloody fool," Maekar muttered, as he saw the massive chained harpoon impale Rhaegar's dragon. He immediately realized the danger of the weapon, which would tether a dragon in place and draw it into the range of the scores of ballistae that lined the tower and walls. It effectively created a dome of protected airspace over the entire city, and Maekar judged its ceiling to be about 3,300 feet off the ground, 2,500 above the top of the Hightower itself. A dragon could fly that high, with a rider and gear, but much higher and the rider would begin to get delirious as the oxygen thinned. He moved quickly to the fields off away from the army, where men were practicing with the mock-wildfire barrels, that were currently filled with water instead of the substance itself. They had cunningly rigged up a design where a pair of barrels were connected to the opposite ends of a stout chain, which itself was wrapped around a wheel. The barrels were tied to each other so they would not jostle during flight, and the chain was hung on a cunningly designed harness that held it up into the air about eight feet, so that a low flying dragon could grab it and yank it up into the air. As he watched, Trajan flew by on Zyraxes and the dragon grabbed at the wheel with its rear claws, getting a good grip on the chain and pulling the wheel and barrels into the air. Maekar whistled loudly for Cyrax and when the dragon approached, he mounted it and attempted his own practice run. Dropping the wildfire with accuracy from such a height would be problematic, but first they had to be sure they could even get it into the air safely. After three practice runs, when he was confident that Cyrax could snag the wheel-chain in flight and carry the pair of filled barrels into the air, he took one barrel of wildfire, of their eight barrels of wildfire, and attached it to the wheel-chain alongside a barrel of pitch. He placed it in position and mounted the dragon, taking to the air and making a tight loop so that he was coming in low, straight toward the barrels as they had practiced. The dragon grabbed the wheel-chain with its back legs as they past, and several beats of his powerful wings took them up into the air. He did not move toward Oldtown at all, instead circling above the royal army, slowly rising higher into the air on thermals. Once he judged himself sufficiently above the range of the ballistae on the walls, he turned Cyrax in a tight loop that would take him briefly over the gatehouse. He would use that window, ideally, to drop the pair of barrels squarely on the gatehouse; it would not ignite on impact, but it would spread pitch and wildfire all over the top of the gatehouse as well as the men and siege engines thereon. [Noteworthy Dragon Handling] |
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jan 16, 2014 20:12:23 GMT -5
Mith flew back to the others and landed with a notable thump, abandoning all his haughty act now that he had seen one of his kind getting ripped apart by flame. Daenerys slid down from her saddle and helped the unconscious Rhaegar to the ground. "Someone should take care of him," she called over her shoulder at the men-at-arms, her voice breaking mid-sentence. She cleared her throat while walking over to everyone else. "I couldn't save him," she announced, her jaw set and eyes cold; no one here really cared about Rhaegar anyway and it was doubtful whether there was someone back in the Red Keep that did. "I couldn't save the dragon."
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Post by Foo Foo Cuddly-poops on Jan 16, 2014 20:18:38 GMT -5
Aemon takes his bag of rocks and following the knight inquisitors lead, mounts his own dragon and whistles for Azuria to take off. Aemon leads Azuria in a slow spiral upwards to the maximum distance that she can fly to try and gain enough altitude to be out of the range of the ballista and the giant steel dome that had moments earlier been the downfall of Vermax. After the steady flight upwards and the city beneath him being a large speck on the ground, Aemon has Azuria turn towards the glint on the ground that marked the steel dome on the top of the Hightower. Once in a position flying over the dome Aemon takes the bag and leaning over Azuria's neck he upturns the bag of rocks to fall down trying to get the rocks to hit the Hightower and the anti-dragon killing machines in hopes of damaging them.
{Expert Dragon Handling]
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Post by The Gambler on Jan 16, 2014 21:45:12 GMT -5
Whether through skill from practice or likely blind luck at that height, the makeshift bomb of wildfire and pitch tumbled through the air to land in the exact spot Maekar had intended. The heavy barrels crushed at least one man to death instantaneously and sent out splintering shrapnel that maimed or wounded at least six more.
The pitch and wildfire mixed together to make a viscous dark green substance of a shade reminiscent of pond scum, which flowed over the battlements and gatehouse, coating a number of the ballistae and their crew. There was a moment of silence, only broken by the moans of the wounded. Between the fires to warm the boiling oil for the murder holes and torches to light flaming arrows, any number of elements could have set off the volatile concoction. Yet, it was a captain of the Oldtown City Watch, pipe falling from his mouth as he watched the barrels fall from the sky in confusion and awe, who was responsible for the inferno that followed. As the pipe clattered on the cobbled stone, a single ember of burning tobacco struck the viscous substance.
There was a deafening roar as the wildfire and pitch seemed to light up all at once, drowning out the screams of the scores slain as the inferno engulfed them. The ballistae upon the gatehouse, despite their advanced design, were rendered to useless slag within moments. The fires burned so hot, even the one of the green marble sphinxes that guarded the gate began to melt.
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Maekar
Site Council
Sam/BlueLion
Posts: 1,437
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Post by Maekar on Jan 16, 2014 21:51:00 GMT -5
Maekar veers away from the city, back toward the army, raising his sword in the air as Cyrax roared in victory. He did not take his chances with the remaining ballistae, though he remained in the air, circling above the royal army with his eyes on Aemon, who was a tiny speck high up in the sky, and eventually came to a landing on the dragon field beside the army.
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all alone and also really bored 
Hopefully going to kickstart the festival too