Thread: The Weight of the Crown (JellyFish & Greeneyed23)

Fitan, the endless land, is ruled by the majestic city of Ethlberg, the mountain city. Built into the greatest mountain in the land, Ethl, the city spans nearly a hundred square miles. it is the oldest city in the human civilization, and hosts the elves, the dwarves, the orcs, the Amgi magic users, and a dozen other races. They also hold the embassy for the Dragon Souled. The embassy has stood empty for a hundred centuries, and the last Dragon Souled refused to enter the place as she was too busy with the human King, who still ruled from the Throne of Claws. The throne had been forged into the shape of a Dragon's paw with the four middle fingers pointing up to form the back, will the thumb and smallest finger formed the arms of the chair. The palm and wrist formed the seat and base. Taken from an actual dragon when humanity had finally taken their first stand in the Great Dragon War near the dawn of time. Now the current ruler, King Patis, sat on his throne considering things. No one had seen a dragon since before his father's father's father had been born and he had been the first king of Ethlberg to see a Dragon Souled, as his people called them in polite society, in nearly as long. And all she had wanted was a cart of books that his family had been guarding for decades. The problem now was supposedly a new Dragon Souled was back. They were impossible to miss. Little Dragons, as they called themselves, were all, like their scaled family, ancient, powerful, and possessed an otherworldly air that even the elves could not compete with. Each Little Dragon was far beyond superhuman and possessed their own kind of magic. their eyes were the biggest part. they were just wrong. they resembled cat eyes as their pupil's went in a slit from top to bottom but they had three sets of eyelids that could blink independently, just as they could control their eyes independently. They all looked human, or elf, or orcish, or whatever race they had come from, but the eyes, the manner, and especially the clothing marked them. They all wore thick black robes that covered them from the neck down and often wore hoods even though they never cut their hair which tended to hanging long braids down their back. There had not been a new Dragon Souled since the end of the war, or so all the races claimed. The Dragons and their smaller brethren had kept themselves apart, refusing to help or give aid of any sort to any one in the world around them until they had been forced. The ruins of the last time the Dragons, both kind, had ridden forth still burned. Rothsil had been powerful port city, far to the east on Jaer Lake, that had been claimed by a mad cult that had threatened to destroy the whole land. it had been when they had brazenly attacked and killed a hatchling, sacrificing him to their 'god' that the Dragons had broken silence. A thunder of dragons so thick they darkened the skies had swept down upon the city carrying hundreds of Souled. The city had been reduced to all but ash, the stone and the rest of the city having ignited in the dragons rage, which had also induced the magic that had turned the city into an eternal inferno. Patis looked at the eldest of his twelve children, his daughter Agatha while she rocked her son Kurtis. He prayed to the Seven Gods that if the Souled was indeed walking the endless land, that it was a peaceful mission. He trembled at the thought of it. Miles below at the base of the city, several miles, gates, and walls away from the entrance to Ethl Castle, built into the mountain itself, at the newest gate stood a robed figure. it was rather late at night and no one was supposed to be allowed to enter the city at this time but the guards were scared. They were sure it was a Souled, or as they called them, Scaleheads, and they did dare send him away, but they also did not dare take initiative and let him in. While they argued and wondered, the man before the gate simply waited his hands clasped before hidden by his long sleeves, his thick hood hiding his face, though his hair had been pushed through a slit in the back hanging heavily in a massive braid. Despite the thickness of the robes his body bulged with power, and he seemed able to stand absolutely still. this was another queer part of the dragons. Like their smaller cousins a dragon could hold as still as stone while waiting for prey or simply at will. This trait had been passed onto the souled and was a big part of what made them so alien to the other races. A captain of the guard arrived two hours after being sent for and was just starting to bawl out his troops when they pointed at the figure who had not moved in all that time. Gulping he barked an order. Actually he squeaked it out but still the gates swung open and the greeter called out. Welcome to Ethlberg. The figure nodded and slowly walked inside. Ignoring the guards and everyone about he walked on, slowly but steadily, headed straight for the castle. The Embassy was in a secondary peak of the castle and only a Souled could open the door so there was no way to be sure if he was heading there but everyone knew he was headed for the castle. the streets quickly went silent and empty as he marched along silently toward the center of the city.