>In the early afternoon sun at Riverrun, Brynden Tully, known as the Blackfish, sat in a sturdy oak chair, the sounds of laughter and delight echoing around him. His brother’s children—Catelyn, Lysa, and Edmure—were captivated as he read aloud a tale of gallant adventure and courtly romance, his voice rising and falling like the gentle flow of the river outside.
>Yet, beneath the cheerful surface, his mind was troubled. Earlier that day, he had received alarming news: a dragon had crashed into one of the towers of The Twins, reducing it to smoldering ruins. He could vividly imagine the tower ablaze, stone and debris tumbling into the river, chaos erupting where there once stood a symbol of strength.
>Was this truly an accident, he wondered, or something more sinister? How could a creature of such magnitude collide so violently with a tower? His musings were abruptly interrupted as a knight approached, urgency etched on his face. Leaning close, he whispered, “My lord, another dragon has struck—this time the other tower.”
>A chill coursed through Blackfish. This was no mere misfortune; it was an orchestrated attack against Westeros itself. Who could be behind such a calamity? The Blackfyres? They had long sought to destabilize the realm. Or perhaps it was the scheming of one of the Free Cities, eager to capitalize on the ensuing chaos. R’hllor extremists were another unsettling possibility—fanatics who thrived on fear and destruction.
>Despite the turmoil raging within, he forced himself to maintain a calm facade for the children. Yet, internally, he grappled with the implications of this terror. It would breed fear throughout Westeros, and soon the realm would demand justice. He vowed silently to protect his family from the storm that loomed on the horizon, even as shadows deepened across the land.

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>sir, a second pterodactyl has just hit the visitors center