(Collab between [@AtomicNut] and [@Greenie])

It was a quiet night, despite all the celebrations going in King's landing. Perhaps a too quiet night in Seran's opinion. He reflected upon the silence, a hallmark of his failure during his first day in Westeros. It should not have been like this, he pondered as he shifted his weight against the wall of the outside of the inn. Truly, he was in need of some fresh air, as he had spent an awful lot of time inside the inn.

His emaciated visage was caressed by a gentle breeze, as he resisted the urge to sneeze. His guts still cramped slightly, a testament of the events that had transcended up until now. He massaged his temples and ran a hand through his short, silver hair. His mouth was somewhat parched and dry, but he decided against having a drink right now, as his mind was too busy recalling the ordeal.

It all seemed too easy. Descend through the docks, navigate through the city, find an inn, eat a hearty meal, have some rest and then partake in the competitions. Except that the aforementioned hearty meal forbade Seran from any rest, as a rather fortuitous case of tainted food had caused him poisoning and thus barred him from doing any physical activity during the entire day.

Well, at least he wasn't dead. Just a little battered in his pride.

"You're an idiot, brother." A gentle voice chimed to his left. There she was, his eternal companion. Blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh. Lysara. She was standing tall, her silken silver hair cascading free through her shoulders, her delicate face uncovered. Seran narrowed his gaze. 

"And you shouldn't show your face around here. You know how much attention your Valyrian charm brings here. There is a time and place for everything." Seran mumbled.

"So, in your opinion, should I cover myself in the fashion of a septa?" The younger sibling chimed once again, leaning towards her brother. "You're the one bringing attention, to be fair. Sir Getting-Poisoned-in-his-First-Meal."Lysara chuckled ever so slightly, a devilish grin on her face.

"I only did it so I could rest the entire morning against your bountiful bosom." was Seran's jape, poorly thought it seemed, as a sharp blow to the ribs was the answer from her sister, her smiling features turning into a frown. Her eyes gazed off to the skies above the Red Keep, and the roars of dragons.

For some reason... she felt happy hearing that kind of sound. It was reassuring, to say the least, that the creatures of legend were real. And hopefully tame enough not to roast them by mistake. Well, they could roast Seran. He seemed a waste of breath every time now and then. Her blue eyes narrowed so slightly, gaze resting in a familiar figure.

"Say, isn't that Taria?"  Lysara said, eyeing the woman who seemed in a daze. "What is she doing?" She asked, looking at her own brother. Truthfully, they had only met for several hours, but both siblings had not many more acquaintances. They had exchanged names, and probably a couple of stories of wandering and adventure. Seran grunted so slightly, and approached the Iron woman.

"Good Night." He called forth.

Taria stopped in her tracks when she heard the greeting sent her way. She turned, eyes narrowing to see who it was. Said eyes then blinked in surprise, recognizing the fellow from the inn. She had seen him the previous day, both he and his sister. Their looks had been more than unique, almost Targaryen, so it had been easy to remember their names. She was a little surprised that Seran wasn't at the Keep, however. She had thought she would have been the only one to leave. Unless he had never gone there in the first place.

Either way, that wasn't of her concern. Though she had stopped her brisk walk, she still looked agitated, as if there was something weighing on her mind. "Oh... Seran, isn't it?" She paused, looking up towards the keep once more, eyes following the dragons. "Something is happening there. My apologies, but I need to..." Her voice trailed. She didn't know what she [i]needed[/i] to do. Would she even be allowed back in the Red Keep?

Her hands curled into loose fists, fingers rubbing against her palms in uncertainty. "Where are you..." She looked past him and saw Lysara was there as well. "... both of you headed? I'm not sure it would be safe for your sister." 

Seran eyed the woman quizzically, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly. That statement was pretty vague, and most certainly ominous. "Well, I agree in that regard, ma'am." Seran decided to play safe and add a certain deferential treatment. With all the pillow dances of the nobles, one never knew truly who was a noble and who was smallfolk. If they dressed somberly, lines were bound to be blurred. "I thought of getting some gentle sea breeze, given how I was defeated by a terrible foe ever before I set foot at the tournament." He paused.

"Tainted food, that is." Lysara's voice was heard at his back, her visage displaying an amusing smile showing pearly white teeth."It is hard to display any sort of skill when you are bound to the latrine all day."

Seran's Valyrian eyes closed, and he scoffed. "That was unnecessary." He coughed as he eyed the shadows of the beasts above. "Answering your question, lady Taria... I think I was going to tell my sister dearest to find a safer place." He paused.

"I would do the same too, but I have a bad feeling about it." He said. "So I am going to check on the Keep." Seran added, as he looked at his surroundings. His sword and equipment were still in his room. Bad timing.

"You want to make up for such an embarrassing defeat by default." Lysara scoffed as she braced herself, and using her delicate hand, pulled down her hood, obscuring her beauty. "But so be it, brother. There is a place and time for everything." She added, heading again inside. She had to clutch her treasure and not let it go, no matter what.

"I suggest you do as my sister, my lady. If dragons are involved, this is probably a battlefield." Seran added. [i]Plus you would probably get in the way. I need safety in numbers for my sister and the dragon egg[/i].

The Greyjoy bastard couldn't help but smirk at the comment about tainted food, despite the ruckus that was taking place at the keep. However, it disappeared just as quickly after Lysara left and her brother suggested that Taria found someplace safe as well. While she could appreciate the sentiment and knew there was sense in what he was saying, she had already made her mind about what she was going to do.

"My apologies, but I have to go there." She contemplated on what to say for just a little longer before continuing. "My father is there, I need to make sure he is fine." Of course he was fine, he was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch! But Seran didn't know that, and Taria wasn't providing details.

Seran sighed, as he ran a hand through his short hair. His blue eyes locked onto hers. "You are aware that I cannot guarantee your safety, aren't you? I am no guardsman." He said before turning his back on the inn...

...only for pieces of armor and a sword fall on top of him, knocking him off his feet momentarily. There she was, Lysara, fully dressed and with a bundle tied to her chest, almost like a sash. The egg. 

"Don't get killed there, brother." said Lysara in mock concern as she performed a quick turn and once again went for a safer place.

"If I do..." He mumbled, getting up after being knocked by his own gear. "...you can always seduce a sword-wearing fop and bear him kids." Seran sighed, as he started to fasten his armor. Quickly, methodically. Unlike knights and tournaments, a mercenary couldn't afford help and had to set his own armor fast, due to the ever-changing conditions of the battlefield. Checking his blade and shield, he then banged his blade against his armor, as if some sort of confirmation.

"Well, sorry about that, my lady. Shall we go now?" Seran added with a stoic disposition.

Taria crossed her arms over her chest, for the moment simply watching the brother and sister. She had many cousins, so it wasn't the first time she had seen such a display of sibling 'affection'. Being a lone child, it had been something she had been jealous, no, [i]envious[/i] about. 

Not so much anymore, however. She would have probably been more amused if it wasn't for the going on at the keep... or the insinuation that she couldn't guarantee her own safety.

"Hm," was her reply, once Lysara had taken her leave again. "You don't have to worry about my safety." It wasn't like he was a knight, that much she could tell. He had no obligation unless he had self-imposed it on himself. "I [i]have[/i] managed to stay alive by myself." She wasn't offended, well, not really. She had heard the assumption many times before, and it wasn't like she blamed people for it. Travelling Westeros or even King's Landing by oneself could be a risky task.

"Let's get going," she added, deciding not to prolong the subject of her safety. 

"I had to try and dissuade you. No more." He lamented while shrugging."Do you wish to take the lead? You seem to know this city well." The mercenary added, his tone becoming terser and focused.

"Yes, I've been here a few years." She hadn't been to the Keep before today, but who didn't know where the gate was after being here so long? She gave a small nod before starting forward, her brisk walk becoming something of a jog and then a run. As the distance to their destination lessened, the sounds were magnified; dragons roaring, people yelling and screaming. Whatever was happening (an attack, Taria presumed) was coming from the other side, Blackwater Bay, she would bet. 

As the approached the gates, Taria's pace slowed, and she looked to Seran. "I'm here to find my father... are you really just here because of a missed tournament?"

Seran stood silently as he eyed the figures dancing and the widespread panic, screams assaulting his ears. His eyes exerted a direct gaze on Taria. "I guess that buying time for my sister would be a flimsy excuse at this point. I am here to seize opportunities for glory and riches so my sister can live a decent life. She would be wasted in scrubbing pots or in a whorehouse. Essos has become a really dangerous place all of a sudden for that task." He admitted. He decided not to tell the whole truth, but a half-truth instead. Even the most sagacious of individuals would have trouble discerning between the two, or so he thought. "So I thought of a fresh start elsewhere. But one day in Westeros and I am already disliking...the view."  He clenched his teeth, gripping his sword tightly.

"Don't worry," Taria told him, her voice less dry than she would have hoped for. "Westeros is so much more than King's Landing." The truth was that she could sympathize with his thoughts. Having grown up in a brothel, watching her mother do exactly that, scrubbing pots and entertaining men, young Taria had made up her mind that she would never to at least the latter. She could appreciate and respect a person who wished to take care of their family.

For a moment she was tempted to mention the note she had received during dinner. She resisted said temptation, though. It wouldn't do just showing it about like a royal decree.

"Well then," she continued, reaching under her cloak and pulling out her two knives, "you best go in and show your valour." She could fight half decently, but it wasn't what she preferred. She wasn't a mercenary, after all. However, it seemed to her that not having a weapon would be the stupid way forward. Coming back to the keep may have been stupidity on her part, but she didn't have to [i]continue[/i] the trend and get herself killed right away.

Seran's expression tensed, and then visibly slumped, his glance tilted towards Taria. "Knives. Really." He said, sighing. "That would be okay for defense against a scoundrel, but you would probably need something with more reach right now. Like a spear. Everyone can use a spear." Seran added, before adjusting his shield and sword in a defensive stance, crouching and advancing with catlike steps, hugging the walls and checking all directions for unseen assailants. "Well then, playtime is over." He solemnly added as he kept advancing with a brisk pace, but guarding himself and Taria tightly.

"It's what I have," Taria replied, trying not to let out a sigh. "I don't usually walk into a fight. I keep these solely for safety." He had a point, though, as irritated as if made her admit it. Her iron blood had the traveller in her down pat; as for fighting, that was not the case. Could she use a spear? Probably. She knew the basic, that is, the pointy end pointed away from her toward the enemy, and hopefully [i]in[/i] the enemy. [i]Had[/i] she ever used a spear? No, she had never had the need to.

Well, there was nothing she could do about it right now. If whatever was attacking came her way, she'd simply have to make do with the knives. That being said, she kept close to Seran, since he [i]did[/i] have a shield.

Seran did just acknowledge his companion's sentence with a brief nod, choosing to keep his pace and keep sharp. He halted his advance, before snapping his sight upwards."DUCK!" He shouted as he used his shield arm to grab the woman under his shield, just in time some fire debris hit the knight's protection and bounced down on the ground, still burning. "What in the Lady's tits..." His sight then trailed up in the skies, looking at the general mayhem, mouth ajar."...is this Westeros or Valyria?" He mused, half in a daze seeing the spectacle before his eyes.

"Hells to all." He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to overcome the shock, his weapons gripped tightly. He had never expected...this sort of confrontation. He had fought men, not otherworldly creatures. He dreaded of what was about to come. Yet, as he reminisced about his possible failure and the whereabouts of his sister, Seran eyed the battlefield, whispering under his breath as he encroached the ugly, slimy adversaries that prowled, atrocious fish eyes gleaming under the fire that rained from the skies.

"Valar Morghulis." He said to himself, eyeing his companion. "Where to?" He added as he launched his first blow to the creatures. It wasn't a sword swing, but rather a shield hit, that hit its victim with a satisfactory crunch, crushing its eyes.

Where to? That was a good question. Taria had absolutely no clue where her father might be. Now, seeing the sort of beings that were actually attacking, she was dumbfounded and confused. What were they even? Sea creatures? She had lived in Pyke and around water for a long time but never had she seen anyone, no, any[i]thing[/i] that looked like what Seran had just hit.

She could truly and completely see the sense in what he had told her earlier. Knives were not very useful here, if at all. It was too bad she wasn't an archer like Theon was.

"I don't know," she muttered, shaking her head, hands gripping tightly against her blades. She was beginning to feel like a liability; maybe it was best if she did back out? Or at least sneak off somewhere? At least Seran wouldn't have to worry about her safety. That is if he even was. She hadn't paid for a bodyguard, and she didn't expect for someone to put themselves in danger for her.

"If you're looking for glory or notice, you may want to head towards Maegor's Holdfast." She would bet her father was not there, but at least Seran would probably find someone or other.

Seran grunted in answer, the effort of slashing at the creatures starting to take its toll on his breath and speech. They were brutal, otherworldly, and simply too many. Already one of their swings had nicked his arm, red blood trickling from a gash in one of the bracers, where the armor was weak. He took a deep breath, not bothering to look back. He expelled the air back, a roaring warcry as he restarted his onslaught once again. No finesse. No quarter. His opponents weren't even human, so why even bother to look knightly while doing so. He slashed. He gouged. He punched and kicked. His blood intermingled with the bits and gore of the creatures, as he kept pushing to carve a path by force.

It was an awfully familiar feeling.