[This was not Pentos. Not the serene villa Maegor had purchased, on warm sands with the perfect blue water lapping on the shore. There was no Alys to lounge with on silk sheets, no servants to bark at if he wanted something. This was the wilderness, dark and deep with whispering illusions at every side.
There were questions he should ask. The obvious "how" of getting here, along with the "who" that would need their neck snapped. These were things he should consider and try to answer, but anger had full control, pushing Maegor to his feet and barreling through the woods. He could hear animals scurrying away, along with a distant snarl of a bear. Still too far and likely in response to someone else. He would deal with that if the creature crossed his path.
The blood of the dragon did not waver.
Entirely to his luck (and not at all to his intelligence), he managed to stop as the caravan of bandits and slaves emerged too close for his comfort. Blackfyre was wherever Pentos was, as was Balerion. There was still his strength, but with larger numbers and weapons, the odds were against him.
But every man needs to sleep and Maegor would wait. These were the men who brought him here. Who else could it be? And once he had an opportunity, he would slaughter them all.
Given he was an "act first, stealth last" sort of person, it slipped his notice others might be creeping about, not until they were near his side, also watching the bandits. Given there was no attack from these strangers, he can guess they had the same purpose. So be it. Let them be fodder.]
You're like to get yourself killed.
II. Well, Well, Well
[He never cared much for superstition or the fear it induced. It was honestly no different than the Seven in his eyes. Stories made up to dictate action and feeling, a tool used to control the masses. Not one he'd rely on, actual fear was better than ghost stories.
Still, he was intrigued by the idea of a snake maiden. How far was a snake from a dragon? Wingless and without fire, but still dangerous and alluring. Aye, he wanted to see this woman and hear what sort of power she held over the smallfolk.
There really was no clue to go on, only dried wells, but that in itself was amusing. Black tar springing from the ground, likely risen because of the ignorance of the masses. Fine. He could at least look and see if there was anything there that might be useful or even amusing.
Dipping his hand in the tar, he testing the consistency and stickiness, letting it seep against his skin.]
Maegor Targaryen | Fire and Blood | Testing Out
[This was not Pentos. Not the serene villa Maegor had purchased, on warm sands with the perfect blue water lapping on the shore. There was no Alys to lounge with on silk sheets, no servants to bark at if he wanted something. This was the wilderness, dark and deep with whispering illusions at every side.
There were questions he should ask. The obvious "how" of getting here, along with the "who" that would need their neck snapped. These were things he should consider and try to answer, but anger had full control, pushing Maegor to his feet and barreling through the woods. He could hear animals scurrying away, along with a distant snarl of a bear. Still too far and likely in response to someone else. He would deal with that if the creature crossed his path.
The blood of the dragon did not waver.
Entirely to his luck (and not at all to his intelligence), he managed to stop as the caravan of bandits and slaves emerged too close for his comfort. Blackfyre was wherever Pentos was, as was Balerion. There was still his strength, but with larger numbers and weapons, the odds were against him.
But every man needs to sleep and Maegor would wait. These were the men who brought him here. Who else could it be? And once he had an opportunity, he would slaughter them all.
Given he was an "act first, stealth last" sort of person, it slipped his notice others might be creeping about, not until they were near his side, also watching the bandits. Given there was no attack from these strangers, he can guess they had the same purpose. So be it. Let them be fodder.]
You're like to get yourself killed.
II. Well, Well, Well
[He never cared much for superstition or the fear it induced. It was honestly no different than the Seven in his eyes. Stories made up to dictate action and feeling, a tool used to control the masses. Not one he'd rely on, actual fear was better than ghost stories.
Still, he was intrigued by the idea of a snake maiden. How far was a snake from a dragon? Wingless and without fire, but still dangerous and alluring. Aye, he wanted to see this woman and hear what sort of power she held over the smallfolk.
There really was no clue to go on, only dried wells, but that in itself was amusing. Black tar springing from the ground, likely risen because of the ignorance of the masses. Fine. He could at least look and see if there was anything there that might be useful or even amusing.
Dipping his hand in the tar, he testing the consistency and stickiness, letting it seep against his skin.]
Maybe left by the Serpent.
[His rare attempt at speculation.]