Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 88: Trouble in the East

—Essos—

Near the ruins of Old Valyria...

Scouring the ruins of the once-great civilization of the Valyrian Freehold, Jon Connington traded occasional glances of his surroundings. Valyria was once the mightiest empire in the world before its destruction 400 years ago in a catastrophic volcanic event known as the Doom which utterly wiped out the capital city of Old Valyria and the Valyrian Peninsula's surrounding colonies as well as almost all their dragons in a single day. Every recorded history and knowledge were lost that day. Although the ruins remained albeit with slight crumbling eroding stones, the former Lord of Griffon's Roost knew he mustn't remain lingering about in the territory for much longer. The ruins of Valyria had become overgrown and subsumed by a nearby jungle which was an extent even greater than Harrenhal. Those who ventured into Old Valyria in the pursuit of seeking lost treasure were never seen or heard from ever again... and there were reported sightings of Stone Men dwelling in the area. As such, Jon—a seasoned combat veteran—knew he had to be extremely careful.

"Blasted pile of rubble," he grumbled under his breath.

A large bank of fog began rolling in the more he ventured inward. Brushing branches out of his way, Jon approached his destined location where he was to supposedly meet with an old contact of his. Connington heard rustling noises and brought his hand to his side, grasping the handle of his blade; but a sound emanating from above momentarily breaks his concentration.

"*RRROOOOOOOAAAAAAA!*"

Jon looked up and, to his surprise, noticed Daenerys' missing dragon Drogon flying overhead. Massive and majestic, Drogon's unexpected appearance enraptured Connington.

"There you are. Black and red scales with red-black wings," he mused. "Traveling north by northeast; Daenerys will no doubt be pleased to know you were here..."

"Only you won't be the one reporting back to her."

Turning around to respond to the intruder, Jon was surprised to see none other than the disgraced Ser Jorah Mormont appearing from out beneath the underbrush; no longer did the exiled Northmen lord wear steal and leather armor made for combat, but Jorah's attire consisted of a tattered yellow shirt, blue neck scarf, drawstring pants, six braided leather arm wraps and a grayish-brown waistcoat.

"Jorah Mormont."

"Jon Connington."

Both men sized each other up; they hadn't seen each other in about two years after Connington revealed Jorah to be a spy for the Usurper Robert Baratheon to Daenerys and a traitor the Targaryen cause back in Astapor—a revelation that not only caused the exiled Westerosi to not only lose the Dragon Queen's favor but also to be banished from her service. Since then, Jorah searched endlessly for a way to regain his khaleesi's favor.

"I half expected to find Black Balaq or Duck, but not you. Never thought I'd find you here near the Smoking Sea surrounding the ruins of Valyria."

Jorah stood tall and firm. "And I had not expected to see you here as well, but I haven't forgotten how you shamed me the way you did."

"And for that you blame me for your own doing? If so then you are even more deluded than I thought, Mormont. Fitting that you meet your end here," he scoffed as he unsheathed in sword.

Sensing danger, Jorah unsheathed his blade in preparations for a fight. Both veterans eyed each other, one measuring the other... the griffon of Griffon's Roost and the bear of Bear Island readied themselves for battle. "You'll find I'm not that easy to take down," Mormont retorted.

And within that moment, both Jon and Jorah lunged forth. Trading blow after blow, steel clashed and dashed violently; the griffon and the bear were both equally seasoned veterans in their own right, neither one landing a decisive blow on the other. As Ser Jorah thrusted his blade forward, Connington sidestepped and swung around but Mormont ducked before dropping to his knees to strike at Jon's feet. Connington dodged by jumping over it. Both disgraced Westerosi exiles reverted back to square one with their blades drawn and pointed at each other.