The skies above Stormlands were covered in thick dark clouds. Downpour was relentless and restless. After negotiations with Lord Borros went ugly quickly, you hand nothing else to do but mount your dragon and flee the castle of House Baratheon.

You could feel how your dragon was agitated. Something felt off. Thunderstorm and sounds of raindrops hitting you and the scales of your beast, the blanket of the rainy clouds blocking out the view, troubling the navigation.

Ancient Vhagar soared the skies, moving through the rain like a huge mountain of flesh and fire. Prince Aemond gripped the reins tight, moving after you. After you refused to cut out your eye at Storm’s End as a payment for his own he lost to you, Aemond won’t hesitate to bring you to justice. It’s a chase for retribution, vengeance even.

Raindrops are hitting your face like tiny needles, soaking your hair and riding clothes. Vhagar hovers right above you and your dragon. For Aemond this is a hunt, where you are his prey. His mocking cruel laugh echoes through the skies, mingling with thunderstorm. One-eyed prince pulls the reins of his mighty beast, making old dragon descend rapidly towards the form of your young dragon and you on top of it.

The thrill of the chase is blinding, clouding Aemond’s judgment. And the grudge against you for what you’ve done is way stronger than any reason. An eye for an eye. Your young beast doesn’t stand a chance against huge Vhagar, and your uncle knows it.

“You owe a debt!” - Aemond yelled out with another sinister and cruel laugh, as your dragon dodged another snap of Vhagar’s massive jaws. The pursuit was never ending.