Battle of Oldtown

Despite her urge to stove in the skulls of Hector's men, Elseyris realised that she was not doing much damage, and was tempting more arrows towards her. She spurred Nenyan to pull up sharply, and round upon the Dragonbane's location. Ser Hector may have clad himself and his horse in fire-resistant protection, but she was determined to help her cousins get through it all and lay him to waste. Keeping Nenyan above arrow range, she tried to time her command for him to unleash his fire so that it would fall upon Ser Hector and his horse.

Daenya snarled as Dany got in her way, forcing her to veer up. She circled once and saw her uncle and Hector begin their duel.

With another roar she brought Vandaras towards them, attempting to do what she had done before - Burn the path below her while trying to get her dragon's jaw around Ser Hector.

[Intro post to Horses of Westeros]

Daenerys winced at the sharp pain in her foot, but was far more concerned about Mith's wing at that point. She led the dragon off the battlefield, back to the camp, and jumped off the saddle after undoing its chains, having already forgotten about the arrow piercing her ankle. The impact with the ground kicked all the air out of her lungs and if it weren't for the waterdancing training, she would have most likely tumbled to her knees. Gritting her teeth every step of the way, she sent the reluctant Mithrax back to the dragonpen and limped to the stables to find a horse. Inspecting her wound once there, she snapped off the arrowhead and mounted her horse, the tail of the arrow still sticking out of her left foot. Dany unsheathed her dagger, which she would use for parrying, as well as her slim Braavosi sword. With that, she kicked her good heel to the horse's side, who then galloped to their troops on the ground.

Seeing Vandaras snatch up Hector's horse so deftly gave Elseyris a similar idea. If flames were not quite enough, perhaps a dragon's jaws would work. She shouted her command to Nenyan, and he dove towards the ground at speed, snapping his sharp teeth as he bore down on Ser Hector. As they plummeted towards the earth, Elseyris tried to avoid Aemon, and prayed that she had judged the move correctly.

With the battle so close, Rhaena prepared her bow to engaged the enemy as she approached, seeing Daenerys also reproaching the fight she veered over, so the two of them could rejoin the fray together, preferring to fight alongside someone familiar, and thinking of no one better than her childhood friend.

Lord Dustin and his cavalry were met with fierce resistance as they ran into the remaining Warriors Sons knights, veterans who had fought with zealous devotion for decades under Ser Hector’s banner.

Rhaegar Targaryen takes point in guiding the ladders to the walls, Tarly and Morrigen slaying men with ease as the heavy infantry began their ascent. Their task was made much easier, as Glutton roasted four of every five men brave enough to charge the ladder teams. The charred battlements fall with little resistance, as does the gatehouse that had been drenched in wildfire.

Rhaena and Dany joined Raymond River’s company of outriders, who harried the routing Poor Fellows. Rhaena seemed to excel at the task with grace, firing arrow after arrow in the backs of fleeing smallfolk. Unfortunately for Dany, a bravo blade and parrying dagger were ill-suited for mounted combat. As she leaned over to strike at a man below, a Poor Fellow armed with a poleaxe struck her full in the chest with the blunt end. Lady Velaryon felt searing pain as at least two ribs cracked and she was launched from the saddle to land upon her back in the blood-soaked ground amidst the corpses of the dead and dying.

No stranger to fighting against impossible odds, Ser Hector seemed to thrive in his current situation. Displaying preternatural skill and perfect situational awareness, even as fire raged around him, he closed the distance between himself and Aemon while still keeping peripheral tabs on the two dragons advancing rapidly upon him. Once more, he waited for the perfect moment, though this time his timing was impeccable.

As the dragons came at him from either side, the High Marshal’s passive defense suddenly turned aggressive, a shield bash to Aemon’s face sending him stumbling back into Vandaras’ line of flight. The large dragon’s head struck Aemon full in the chest, the colossal inertia shattering ribs and launching him like a rag doll across the field of battle. His halberd slipped form his grip as he flew through the air, cuts and bruises mounting as he tumbled along before laying still and unmoving in the grass.

At the same moment, the Dragonbane dove forward, Nenyan’s maw passing a hair’s breadth over him as he drove Vigilance up into the beast’s underbelly. The Valyrian steel sank effortless into the young dragon’s scales, using the inertia of his flight against him. A ragged gash was dug into the beast down its length, as if Hector was opening the dragon for some scientific dissection. The dragon was dead before it hit the ground, entrails littering the field and smoking amid the corpses, digging a long trench as he drove into the dirt. Elseyris was thrown from the saddle as the chains upon the harness snapped from the force of the crash landing. There was a loud pop as she landed, her right arm dislocating. From her labored breathing, she suspected at least one rib was broken as well. The Crone had her due.

The Dragonbane turned to survey the battlefield, raising his arms in elation as a cheer rose up amongst his men. Seeing another dragon fall, the Warriors Sons began to gain ground, taking three soldiers of the crown for each one of them that fell.

“Come face me abominations, dragons, monsters, and demons! I fear you not!” the High Marshal bellowed, beating his sword against his dragonscale tower shield. “The Seven Hells await you and the Stranger shall be appeased! There is still one man here with the Seven in his heart and he will not be cowed by godless tyrants!”


(Dany takes a Heavy Wound)
(Aemon takes a Heavy Wound)
(Nenyan is slain)
(Elseyris takes a Heavy Wound)

Rhaegar Targaryen had been instrumental in guiding the ladders to the wall and urging his heavy infantrymen up them to take the battlements. He too ascended the nearest ladder, as his men spread out along the battlements and then into the gatehouse. Sword waving in encouragement and barking commands in a hoarse voice, Rhaegar moved towards the gatehouse. Seizing a Targaryen banner from one of his men, he planted the red and black dragon emblem on the gatehouse's highest point to serve as a rallying point for the Royal army and as a signal for the remaining Dragonriders who still soared above the battle far below. As Tarly and Morrigen led their forces and some of his heavy infantrymen along the battlements to further secure their position, Rhaegar made sure that his men had complete control of the gatehouse. From there he turned his gaze into the city itself, trying to identify the enemy's positions within and whether he could safely open the gates to the Royal Forces.

Noteworthy: Land Battle
Noteworthy: Long Blades (Sword)

The horrific sound of rending flesh beneath Elseyris sheared through her mind, and the brief yet agonized screech as Nenyan was ripped open by the Dragonbane's blade was felt deep within her bones. She knew immediately that he was lost, as he crumpled in the air. She screamed in anguish. It was as though the departing of Nenyan's soul was tearing out a part of hers too. His body went limp just moments before he hit the ground, the intense force propelling Elseyris violently from the saddle, crashing to the ground with a sickening crunch, tumbling like a ragdoll for several feet, before finally lying still, broken, in the mud.

There were stars. There was blackness. There was deafening noise. There was deafening silence. After a few moments, her eyes opened again, and the noises of the battle started to come back to her, though everything seemed distorted and distant. Ser Hector's triumphant bellowing was only a muffled buzzing in her ears, as she slowly, painfully, rolled onto her back. Her eyes, though turned upwards to the sky, were glazed and blank, as she struggled to focus. For a moment, she thought about just closing her eyes again, and slipping away into nothingness. Her grief was blazing like a hot poker through her heart, and it was the worst of all her pains.

She tried to sit up, wincing and yelping from the pain of movement, but managed to pull herself up onto her knees. Her eyes fell upon Nenyan's lifeless body, and it was then that her sorrow flooded out, as the terrible sight jolted her from her stunned state. Head still spinning, and all of her trembling in shock, she forced herself shakily to her feet, and stumbled over to him, collapsing back to her knees beside his head, taking hold of his face, which looked for all the world that he had merely fallen asleep. Elseyris' hands, enfeebled by her injuries, stroked the dead dragon's face and neck tenderly. Despite knowing the irretrievable truth, she found herself wishing desperately that he would be alive, that he would open his eyes just once more, for her.

"...Nenyan..." she said weakly, slumping forward to press her forehead to his;
"I'm so sorry...I am so, so sorry. I should never have brought you here. My brave, brave Little Brother. I can't do this... I can't do this without you."

Her words descended into incoherence for a moment, as she began to sob, burying her face in the nook where Nenyan's head met his neck. She had never felt more useless and alone, clinging to Nenyan's neck, both of them wrecked in the dirt and blood, and forever separated. Her thoughts raced, terrified, as she struggled to comprehend it all, bereft and overwhelmed. She knew that she would no longer be able to fight, as she could barely move one arm without searing pain, and could not move the other at all. As she looked up at her surroundings, she saw that much of the enemy was slain, fleeing, or engaged elsewhere. Thankfully, this meant that nobody was bearing down on her, for the moment. As much as she wanted to avenge Nenyan by ripping Ser Hector's head off, she knew that it would be impossible, even without her injuries. She would have to trust that one of the others could defeat him.

Despite being un-noticed, and being, in her grief, reluctant to leave Nenyan's side, Elsey managed to reason with herself that both staying out in the open, and letting herself just cry uselessly over her dragon's corpse, were not the right things to do at that moment, not for a soldier. Pushing herself laboriously back to her feet, she looked around for her flail, which had bounced away during the crash, eventually retrieving it from among the swath of dead bodies. The long steel chain was sticky with blood and mud, and some of the ornate gilded barbs were bent. Her flail had been designed and made specially for her, and now it's disfigurement somewhat mirrored that of it's owner. She coiled it up as best she could with one hand, fumbling it back into it's loop at her hip. Just because she was too wounded to use it was no reason to leave it behind.

Limping, cradling her dislocated arm, and with her face streaked with mud, blood & tears, she tried to find a safe place to stow herself. She hated having to hide, it felt like cowardice, but she knew that there was no other sane choice, and that throwing her own life away by inaction, or feeble attempts at heroics would have made Nenyan's death even more senseless than it already was.

Besides, there was someone she wanted to live to hold again.

Rhaena saw Daenerys get wounded from her peripheral vision, but also heard her shout. Having seen the dragon go down herself and knowing there was only Daenya's dragon in the air, and unless the dragonbane had been killed already, then there was only her sister and her uncle still fighting.

"Don't die!" She shouted back yo Daenerys, then turned her horse in the direction the dragon went down in, as fast as she could.

Daenya was far too focused on attacking Ser Hector to hear her brother and continued her attack.

(OOC: Arranged with Zack in OOC posts here that they are beginning a duel, though we deleted the posts, just so you know Horas.)

(OOC: Just to speed stuff up, if I get an average or heavy wound by the time Aegon gets there I will jump out of the way and let him do some dragon action on Hector.)

Rhaena arrived in time to see Ser Hector standing over her wounded sister, and saw red, she saw flashes of her younger sister, her only younger sibling, the only one she needed to protect, dead and on a funeral pyre and knew she'd die before letting that happen.

Honour be damned, she kept some distance back, jumped off her horse and notched another arrow knowing she's be steadier on the ground, began firing at the High Marshall, not sure if he intended on killing her sister or not, but assuming he would if given the chance. Thinking of what had happened to Daenya, Tyraxes, Daenerys, Maekar and all of her allies who'd been killed or wounded, and hoping her arrows found their marks.