Board Thread:Non-TES Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20170806013615/@comment-5543592-20170807002309

Lyrenn looked out over Valyria. His father called it the most beautiful city that had been, was, and ever would be in the world. Lyrenn thought it was disgusting. Amazing, yes, with it's massive stone towers, connecting bridges and archways, winding streets, molten motel flowing from forge to forge, and smoke rising into the sky from those forges. Undying fires light a million granite-like ways, and the unnaturally bright light of dragonglass candles could be spied through winds, easily visible amongst the smoke. The city was dark and gothic, the only break in it's oppressiveness the was the refracted light dragonglass offered when sunlight or the glow of the fires hit it. The occassional deep, baying call of a dragon roaring could be heard, and wind torn at Lyrenn's hair and clothes whenever one passed over his head, powerfully unfolding it's wings. The lights of the Flames could be seen in every direction, and all around. His family's castle was built into the side of one of them. Sometimes he imagined he could just make out the monstrosity of stone that Glaermaen was.

Lyrenn leaned back against the rounded cap of Glaerys' Spire, his legs dangling over the edge. A three foot incline and his own sense of balance seperated Lyrenn from a hundred foot fall. Lyrenn had already slipped off a few times, not today, but in the past years. Obviously, he'd never hit the ground. Coiled around the Spire's uppermost section was Villentre, Lyrenn's everpresent companion. The dragon's body spiralled around the tower like he was a fixture in the stonework. It's head sat on the side of the cap, not far from Lyrenn. It lay it's chin against the smooth stone surface. Although it appeared to be resting, it's yellow viper's eyes were watching the young man with sharp alertness. Had Lyrenn slipped, the lower half of Villentre's body would've uncoiled to catch him unfailingly.

Lyrenn stared up at the sky above him, and its the clouds passing overhead. That was his one escape from Valyria, and it's overwhelming vastness. The sky. Up there it was empty of all the worries and troubles and conflicts down here, and Lyrenn was free.

He raised the dragon horn he was clutching in one hand to his lips, bringing his second hand up to support the heavy instrument in the process, and blew through it. A long, low, throbbing bellow was released from the horn, and it rung through the air.

In mockery of the horn, Villentre lifted his head, opened his mouth, and emitted his own deep, pulsating trumphet.

Lyrenn snickered, and blew through the horn again, holding the note for longer this time.

Villentre responded a second time, dropping it's bellow even deeper, and held it so long that echoed briefly afterwards, the sound bouncing off of the nearby towers, which almost reached as high as the Spire.

Lyrenn sucked in wind, and blew through the horn a third time, emptying his lungs. The sound thrilled through the air, ringing so deep and true that, in the distance, another dragon briefly called back.

Villentre snorted smoke out it's nose, tossed back it's head, and shot a gout of blistering dragonfire into the air.

"Won't be outdone, huh?" Lyrenn asked the creature, setting the horn aside again.

Villentre lowered it's head to the stone once more, eyes once more locked on it's master.