Thread: Burned and Blackened Blood (G23 & loneiysong)

During the ages unknown, the mountains of Nethis, greatest land on the planet, had been volcanic. Born of violent upheavals from the earth, and burned into a blackness so dark they were called the Night Peaks, these mountains had grown and risen until they towered above all else. Until the time of the Unsettling. A war. What else could trigger such powers? A war between all the races of the world. Orcs, Elves, Fae, Hakr, Were-kind, Human and so many others all fought one another for dominance. And the Dragons. The Dragons were the eldest of Nethis. They had long dwelt in the very fires of the Night Peaks, using the great heat to incubate their eggs and give birth to generations of their mighty race. But the War of Unsettling, a conflict that had begun over a simple land dispute changed all things. Magics unheard of were created in the hearts and minds of those that fought, and flung upon their foes, all of them trying to win the favor and attention of the Dragons. The Dragons, wise in their age had refused to take part, but also knew that their very bodies could give advantage to the fighters. So they drew away, destroying their own nests. The Night Peaks began to crumble, their fires gone, until only one, the greatest of all, remained. It was on this mountain's plains that the final battle of the War of Unsettling took place. The races fought each other for days until the mountain erupted in rage at their abuse. The rage of the planet shook and burned them, threatening them all. And the cry for aid was deafening. Then the Dragons flew forth. Their thunder flew into the fire of the last of their former homes and as one they drew away it's rage and fire. And the races were grateful and made peace. And there they also created a city. The greatest city in Nethis. Tiashin, the City of Peace. It was built into the massive hollow created by the volcano's explosion, and soon filled the whole of the innards of the great mountain, it's central palace built directly into the remaining spine of the mountain's peak. Naturally walled higher than any other city in history it was the first of many to become home to all of the races. And the first to be blessed and visited by the Dragons. This peace and this blessing was marked by the symbol of the city, an infinite looping series of interlocking rings, each a different color to mark the races within. Black, white, green, blue, red, yellow, pink, purple, brown, orange, and on and on and on. It resembled a chain mail more than anything, and had inspired the Color Guard, the city's guardians and watchers, made up of all but one race, to bear multi colored mail and armor in their duties. Dragons had no need of armor, and even their Little Dragons, the Dragon Souled, eschewed such garments, but they had supplied the greatest gem of the city and the Color Guard. High within the Palace of Bone, named such because, despite the blackness of the mountain around it, it was bleached bone white as was the rest of the city, lay the Throne of Gems. It was a massive affair, made up of a single massive Dragon's skeleton, but coated every inch in gemstones of immense size and value. The throne's base was the Dragon's coiled tail, while all four paws were raised up to create the central, the palms of the forepaws tight together to form the actual seat, the fourth and fifth taloned fingers curled down to make arms for the chair, while the thumbs were hooked together to make the seat back and the first second and third fingers stood straight up, talons still gleaming, and the rear paw's legs made the ten steps from the ten made by the coiled tail. The thumbs of these paws curled on either side of the seat the talons pointing down before the throne, and many a monarch had learned to keep his or her legs away from the still sharp edges. The coiled tail hid the spine of the body, while the long neck stretched up into the air to the skull. The whole throne sat more than twenty feet in the air, but the skull, still filled with gleaming teeth, hung above, gazing down at those who came before it's inhabitant, the empty eyes still able to drive those who dared to meet it's eternal gaze mad. The skull was fifteen long from neck to snout and the horns gave it another nine feet. It measured nine feet across at it's thickest point, and two at it's thinnest, the snout. The Dragon's name had be Furad, named after the very mountain in which she now sat, eternal monarch as the rulers of Nethis came and went. Her bones were so old now that the steps on her fingers, the seat of her palms, the arms of her talons, and the coils of her tail had become smoothed by the countless soles that had pressed upon them. And while the stains of time and age did not remain, her bones did seem to tell of the long history she had witnessed. Her throne had been the first creation of the city of Tiashin. It had begun far below on a field of ash, and had been elevated to this place, where her second gifts alone were alone to sit astride her first. Those that bore the various Crowns of Gems and they alone were permitted to mount her stairs. Many unworthy had tried only to learn to their cost that even dead a Dragon is still deadly. Many a would be usurper's blood had run down her mighty tail. This magic had been sealed by the dying Dragon as a blood pact between all the races. Only the truly chosen monarch could mount her Throne, and only the same could bear any of the Crowns of Gems. And since that time the family line of kings and queens had not been broken. There had been more wars. And uprisings. Rebellions. Not all who had ruled from Furad's throne had been just, kind, or wise, but they had been the rightful heirs and she would take no part in such matters. Her sole duty was to protect the rule of the land, and support the rightful ruler until their end, however it might come. The various races had seen the wisdom of this then, and many times again when would be tyrants had tried to lay claim to Furad's Throne as it was commonly known. This more than anything had given the chosen family, honorable nobles, great distinction amongst all the races. And had garnered them loyalty, wealth, power, prestige, and an expectation of behavior that they had, despite some troubles, had risen to exceptionally. Beloved and adored by the peoples of Nethis, the royal family had been protected even during the most troubling times and returned to the throne to much pomp and ceremony. But without the Dragons. Sometime after Furad's gift, but before the next war, the Dragons began to withdraw. They did maintain an citadel within the city, in high caves of the Night's Peak, but fewer and fewer of their kind were seen, and the Dragon Souled grew less and less visible. None knew why. None could explain. But within ten generations of their great act of protection, the Dragons were all but gone from the one city that had so thrived upon and desired their presences. The wars that were fought were often blamed on the Dragons, but though they were occasionally glimpsed flying about, and the Dragon Souled were known to deliver messages of great import to nobles and monarchs, the race seemed to be vanishing. Now more than ten thousand years after Furad's gifting of her bones to the races, Nethis was more prosperous than ever before. All four coasts brought great wealth over great distances to the central city, and for once the peace seemed to be truly holding. For the last three hundred years there had been no sign of rebellion or insurrection. Likely because the current crop of monarchs did not strive to gain more for themselves, but instead to increase in the health and safety of their people, but who can speak to the heart of individuals. Still the peace held and all were happy. Dragons had nearly become stuff of legend, myth, and bard song, and no one living had seen a Dragon Souled. Arguments still roared about when the full Thunder had flown forth last, but none could be sure. The elves were certain it had been nearly a thousand years previous when a mad wizard had managed to steal one of their young and use the child to power his devasting magics. The orcs said but twenty years before the turn of the last century when they had been called to the Council of Scales, though even they could not supply what this Council had been about or where. The Hakr, the elementals of the land held that the Dragons flew forth constantly, but so high none could see them not even the hawks. And on and on. The stories of the Souled were if anything, even more wild and varied. Descriptions ranged from the monstrous to the preposterous. But one thing was known. The Souled, however they might appear, were 'normal' beings born of any of the races, with the eyes of Dragons. Cults and religions had prayed, sacrificed, and even murdered to imbue their young with this great gift. But none had come. The last known Souled had visited the Royal Family but once, locked the only accessible doors to the stronghold of the Dragons within the city, then had vanished without a trace. Stories abounded about him, or her. Or it. But all were certain. That had been the last sign of the eldest race of Nethis. Today was the first day of the 11,123 year of the continued rule of the city of Tiashin. The Royal Family was expected to make a grand entrance, with all of the extended members riding through the Broken Gate, the massive gate made out of the wall of the mountain itself, after descending in great pomp and ceremony from the Palace of Bones. The Royal Family's butler, Hodgkiss, a distant relative whose ancestor had attempted a coup, was currently in the throne room, sitting before Furad's throne, and polishing the Crowns of Gems. There were several dozen of them. They were marvelous items. Each made of a single stone, or massive ingot of a precious metal and crown with yet more stones, they actually grew or shrank according to the wearer, and were known to choose their wearers at times. They also could grow in elegance and design seemingly at will and Hodgkiss could not help but wonder how the races had imbued them with such powerful magics. Even the dwarves and elves could not claim such cleverness in their creations. Currently the Jade Crown was the King's, while his bride and Queen wore the Sapphire Crown. Their children each had their own, and the Prince and Princesses Royal, as well as the Queen Mother did as well. Hodgkiss was polishing the crown for the Queen Mother currently. His own great aunt three times removed she had refused the throne for herself when still a teenager, and since then she and her chosen crown, the Ebony Crown had seemed to grow more beautiful every day. Now the crown itself stood over a foot tall with dozens of designs intricately showing throughout it's surface that no craftsman could ever hope to match. He did not truly need to polish the crowns, but they seemed... brighter after time in the throne room and under the hands of one of the family. Hodgkiss was greatly honored to be selected, his pointed ears twitching happily as he worked. His mother had been an elf noble, which was why he had been the family's butler for more than 500 years already and showed no signs of aging or desire to depart. He only wondered what the Crowns might change to by his 600th year. He chuckled at the thought, humming a song his mother had taught him about Furad herself, while he carefully drew a soft brush along the designs in the Ebony Crown, marveling at how it gleamed brighter and brighter in the predawn light. The throne was fully enclosed but due to Furad's decorations a little light became a shining day, thus many of her larger gems were blocked from light entirely, and all light sources were covered to prevent blinding occupants. Especially on days like today. Hodgkiss continued to hum, his back to Furad, unconcerned about her silent and empty gaze. Unlike many he had always been comfortable here, and he cast his yellow but very normal eyes up to the main doors and smiled. he could hear his cousins waking and wondered would it be the children or the parents who entered the room first. Queen Mother would be last of course. No surprise there. She was a hundred and fifteen this spring, and her hip had only just healed after that riding accident last fall. He chuckled to himself and kept to his work.