The Smoking Sea
The three-masted schooner rocked violently as the Cannibal swooped overhead, its wings creating a gale that rattled the sails. Rhaegar stumbled, barely maintaining his balance.
"What's wrong, Cannibal?" Rhaegar muttered, watching the dragon's agitated circling. Cannibal had been unusually tense since they entered the Smoking Sea, and its behavior grew more erratic after the stone mans attack.
The dragon roared again, its wings flapping angrily as it vented its frustration. Rhaegar's face grew grim. "Dock the ship!" he ordered, eyeing the distant shore. The Smoking Sea was a place of constant danger, and the chance for rest was welco.
"Yes, my lord," ca the weary response from the sailors and rcenaries. The volcanic eruption and stone n assault had left them physically and ntally exhausted.
Rhaegar studied the map Robert handed him. They had deviated slightly from their course during the escape, but the markings showed that they were closer to their destination.
After half a day of sailing, they finally reached land. The sailor anchored the ship near a reef, and several canoes were lowered into the sea.
Cannibal snorted, its breath hot and fishy. Rhaegar approached with open arms, soothing the dragon with a gentle touch. "It's okay, partner," he murmured, rubbing Cannibal's scales.
The dragon slowly cald down, his body relaxing in the warm sunlight. "The Smoking Sea bothers you, doesn't it?" Rhaegar asked quietly.
Cannibal growled lowly, its eyes flashing with disgust. "I understand. Just hold on for two more days," Rhaegar said, recalling similar behavior when he had first tad the dragon near the toxic swamp.
Satisfied that Cannibal was settling down, Rhaegar turned his attention to the beach. rcenaries were pushing back a group of sailors infected with greyscale. Recognizing them as patients from the smuggling ship, Rhaegar ordered, "Drive them away. This land is already a gift to them."
The rcenaries complied, herding the greyscale patients to a hillside behind the beach. Rhaegar instructed, "Rest here for the night. We depart tomorrow."
"Yes, my lord," the n replied, grateful for the rest.
...
At noon the next day, the sun shone brightly in a clear azure sky.
A pitch-black dragon soared above the sea, its hind legs clutching a large fish, which it tossed into its mouth with a snap of its jaws. Behind the dragon, a three-masted sailing ship slowly entered a narrow tributary.
On deck, Rhaegar gripped the boom and closed his eyes, letting the sea breeze wash over him.
After a while, Robert's excited voice broke the silence. "My lord, the ruins of the Stone Bridge are in sight!"
Rhaegar opened his eyes and looked ahead. The tributary narrowed, green ridges lining the north and south banks. In the distance, a mass of boulder-strewn ruins ca into view.
The ruins were vast, stretching across the sea for more than ten miles. Occasionally, remnants of piers jutted out of the water, though the bridge itself had long since collapsed. The decaying structures on both sides of the river hinted at a once-great past.
Seeing the iconic ruins, Rhaegar's spirits lifted. "Increase our speed. We're almost there."
Robert, equally excited, shouted orders to the helmsman and crew. The ship picked up speed, gliding along the coast of the stone bridge ruins.
As they sailed, a mist began to cover the sea, obscuring their view. Despite the clear sky, Rhaegar sniffed the air and frowned. The mist carried a strong sulfuric odor, mingled with a faint stench. Reflected in the firelight, fine particles could be seen swirling in the mist.
"Toxic minerals left over from the volcanic eruption," Rhaegar muttered, taking a deep breath. His lungs felt heavy and tight.
He sensed that the mist might be a reason for the dragon's restlessness. The miasma of the Smoking Sea contained substances that disturbed the dragon.
"Prince, we are approaching an unusual jumble of rocks. It may be our destination," Robert said, pulling out a map and swallowing his excitent.
Reaching their destination ant they were close to returning to the ship. Robert could almost taste the large sum of gold that awaited him, enough to ensure a life of comfort and leisure.
"Dock the ship and leave so n to guard it," Rhaegar ordered, his eyes fixed on the distant pile of rocks that could only be described as "magnificent."
The chaotic pile resembled a mountain of stones, with dark roots of walls peeking out from the rubble and rotting wood.
The ship docked along the shore, and Rhaegar led fifty rcenaries ashore to make their way toward the pile of rocks.
They soon found the entrance to the ruins, marked by earlier smugglers. It was a dark cave hidden in the center of the ruins, with only one corner visible. The ground around the mouth of the cave was covered with dirty footprints.
Rhaegar frowned slightly and selected a few of his best rcenaries. "You n, go down and scout the area."
"Yes, my lord," the rcenaries replied without hesitation, lighting torches and descending into the cave.
These were experienced n who valued gold more than their lives, and with Rhaegar and his dragon watching from the outside, they dared not refuse.
"Roar..."
Cannibal landed on the ground, its massive feet crushing the pile of rocks beneath him as it sniffed the air cautiously.
Rhaegar swept the cave entrance with his boots, scanning for any signs of recent activity. Monts later, a few torchlights flickered at the cave mouth, and a rcenary erged, his forehead glistening with sweat. "My lord, there's a deep passage in the cave, and so strange things inside."
Rhaegar's mind raced. "Leave a group to guard the entrance. The rest follow ."
The rcenaries who had scouted the cave had reported oddities, but nothing overtly dangerous. It suggested sothing unusual, but not imdiately life-threatening.
With a firm leap, Rhaegar entered the dark cavern, the rcenaries leading the way. As they ventured deeper, the tunnel gradually widened, and unlike typical underground caves, it was dry, not cold or damp.
Half an hour later, they encountered the first signs of strangeness.
Crack—
A rcenary stepped on a bone, looking down to find a human skeleton clad in ancient armor. There were many such skeletons, scattered across the floor.
"My lord," a rcenary said, handing Rhaegar a piece of breastplate he had retrieved.
Rhaegar held up a torch, illuminating the breastplate. Carved on the left chest was the insignia of a roaring lion.
"Lannister?" Rhaegar murmured, recognizing the emblem instantly. Checking the other skeletons confird it: they all bore the Lannister crest.
Robert examined one bone and remarked, "My Lord, these bones crumble at the slightest touch. They must be very old."
Rhaegar's mind drifted to so ancient Lannister legend, but he shook it off. "Let's move on."
"Look, My Lord, it's that thing!" The rcenary scout pointed to a corner of the tunnel, his voice urgent.
Rhaegar turned to see several different remains, covered in the telltale wounds of grayscale. Their joints were twisted, and foul blood had seeped into the ground.
"The bodies of Stone n, and they're fresh!" Rhaegar's interest was piqued as he hurried forward to investigate.
Each of the stone n was skeletal and emaciated, their eyes wide open in death. Dirty blood spurted from their mouths, and their bodies bore fatal wounds to the chest, neck, and skull - clean, round holes that seed too precise for a spear.
"This is not spear work," Rhaegar remarked, his eyes narrowing.
As a skilled spearman, he knew what spear wounds looked like. These wounds were different - smooth, large, as if pierced by sothing unnatural. He'd seen similar wounds before, inflicted by the shadow creatures of the Shadowbinders, who attacked with tentacle-like appendages that pierced their victims.
Alard, Rhaegar ordered, "Keep all the torches burning and light the tunnel as much as possible!
The bodies of the stone n were fresh, their blood barely dry. The tunnel might harbor unknown creatures, perhaps shadow creatures. Fire would be their best defense against whatever lay ahead.
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