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"Everyone is here. Let's move out."
Arthur stood at the edge of the fishing village, the salty sea breeze whipping against his face.
The exploration team of over a dozen men was assembled. Two dark-skinned guides were checking the ropes and torches in their baskets.
Quentyn Martell had joined them as well. Arthur could tell he was eagerly looking forward to exploring the Dragonmont.
"Isn't Stuart with you?" After Arthur announced their departure, Quentyn looked around the group. "Where is he?"
Gerold shrugged. "He said he had no interest in hunting for treasure inside a fire-breathing volcano. He went off to find some Dragonstone girls."
"If by 'girls' you mean whores," one of the dark-skinned guides grinned, revealing a row of yellow teeth, "then he's wasting his time. The Lord of Dragonstone has banned prostitution on the island."
Once they had inventoried all the necessary supplies for climbing and spelunking—ropes, torches, waterskins, and chisels and sacks specifically for collecting obsidian—Arthur waved his hand.
"Let's go."
The team climbed up the black basalt cliffs along the coastline.
Waves roared below, crashing against the rocks and spraying mist that dampened the cliff face.
Fortunately, the slope wasn't steep, and there were obvious, man-made stone steps along the way. However, in many places, the path had vanished due to lack of maintenance or landslides caused by geological shifts.
Arthur noticed that the closer they got to the Dragonmont, the fainter the salty smell in the air became, gradually replaced by the pungent scent of sulfur. Vegetation on the Dragonmont was sparse; only salt-tolerant shrubs and moss provided a few touches of green.
After about an hour of hiking, the team reached the end of the stone steps—a man-made cave entrance on the northeastern ridge of the Dragonmont.
Standing outside the cave, the guide pointed to the pale grey steam constantly rising from the distant peak.
"The summit of the Dragonmont is extremely dangerous. It is covered in vents that spew that pale grey steam. Once we are inside the mountain, if we encounter any vents spewing hot gas, try to hold your breath and move away quickly."
Arthur followed the guide's finger toward the summit, seeing it shrouded in swirling smoke, appearing indistinct and ghostly.
Then, the guide lit a torch and led the way into the cave.
"Seven save us, let me find a dragon egg..."
As Arthur lit his own torch, he heard Penrose whispering a prayer beside him.
Many others were doing the same, especially Quentyn. His face was tense, and the hand holding his torch trembled slightly.
Arthur couldn't help but smile. People had a natural curiosity and fascination with legendary creatures like dragons.
In truth, Arthur harbored a sliver of hope himself. What if he got lucky and actually found a dragon egg?
Although dragons had vanished for over a century and the Dragonmont had been scoured clean by others long ago, it was like browsing a flea market—what if he stumbled upon a hidden gem?
Besides, the worst-case scenario was coming back with a load of obsidian. It wasn't a total loss.
With this mindset, Arthur stepped into the cave. The interior of the mountain was primarily black basalt, with many obsidian and dark yellow sulfur crystals lining the walls of the tunnels.
The light from their torches danced on the stone walls, reflecting and refracting in a mesmerizing display of colors, though the air here was acrid and stinging.
The team followed the tunnel for some distance until they reached a wide cavern where the smell was much fainter, suggesting a vent to the outside nearby.
The quantity of obsidian here was even greater. Arthur saw a high platform almost covered in large chunks of the black glass, and the walls on either side seemed crystallized.
"My lords, if you wish, you can explore here for a while," the guide explained. "If we go deeper, the temperature will rise, and the tunnels become complex. It is easy to get lost."
The group quickly dispersed. At first, Arthur eagerly held up his torch, sifting through the rubble and occasionally picking up some high-quality obsidian.
But as time passed, Arthur let go of his fantasy. He turned to the two guides who were chiseling obsidian from the walls. "Are there any hot springs here suitable for bathing?"
"There are a few spots, my lord," the dark-skinned guide replied as he tossed a chunk of obsidian into his basket. "But the water is very hot and smells pungent. Even we locals never go there. I doubt you would like it."
Arthur dismissed the idea of a volcanic hot spring bath. He checked his system interface and saw no activity. It seemed Dragonstone was not his lucky place.
Seeing that everyone else was still eagerly searching—Quentyn was even preparing to climb up to the high platform Arthur had noticed earlier—Arthur stuck his torch into a crevice and chatted with the guide.
"What do you collect this obsidian for?"
"Just something to do while we wait," the guide smiled. "Since we're here, we collect some to turn over to the Lord. And sometimes, sailors docked at the port like to buy them as souvenirs. We can sell a few for coin to feed our families."
"Though the stuff is brittle and not worth much. Sometimes the Lord doesn't even want what we bring."
As Arthur chatted with the guide, he saw Quentyn climb down from the high platform on a rope, looking disappointed.
"I've been up there before," the guide said. "It used to be a dragon's lair. There are scattered, weathered human bones up there."
However, this brief setback didn't dampen the group's enthusiasm for finding a dragon egg. At Quentyn's strong insistence, the team ventured deeper into the mountain.
But aside from various rocks, there was nothing. With their lighting supplies running low, Arthur ordered a return.
By the time Arthur walked out of the cave carrying a sack of obsidian, the sky outside had darkened.
"Do we visit other caves tomorrow?" the guide asked.
Arthur was about to refuse—he had confirmed the rich dragonglass deposits in the Dragonmont and didn't want to waste more time.
But Quentyn agreed immediately.
Arthur sighed inwardly, marveling at how the allure of dragons and dragon eggs could bewitch people. He reminded Quentyn to be careful but declined to participate in further expeditions.
For the next two days, Arthur stayed in the library of Dragonstone, browsing through its rare collection of books. However, records and books regarding dragons and dragon eggs were scarce.
The few he found were either incomplete, rotting, or had pages torn out. They held little value.
During this time, Arthur also met the 'Onion Knight' Davos Seaworth and Stannis's only child, Shireen Baratheon.
Shireen had blue eyes, a square jaw, and the large ears inherited from her mother's Florent side. Greyscale had left the left side of her face and most of her neck covered in grey-black dead skin.
Arthur could sense that Stannis was very distant with his daughter; most of her company came from the simple-minded jester, Patchface.