The breeze on the western mountains blew cool in the early morning light. Long shadow still stretched as the sun slowly rose and beyond the mountain if one looked back was the kingdom, Ral’shied. It spanned vast and continued to spread, but here, on the western front. A problem had arisen. It was well known broader lands stretched beyond the mountains, kingdoms ready to be conquered by the corrupt hand of the king. But his fingers couldn’t reach, every grasp he made with his armies, his fingers of soldiers were burned off, by a dragon.
The mountains had shaped and formed in a way that right in the center was a bowel valley, rich rivers, cool clear air, and green so much green. The area it’s self pulsed with magic, Some claimed, from the stone buried deep in the mountains that held magic, some claimed it was the will for the gods, who had scooped the valley out with their own hands and in doing so gave it their power. Whatever the reason, he valley continued deep rich and pure magic.
Now the valley was not the only area of magic, in fact many existed, and these magic ‘pools’ cause such growth that many had cities and town thriving. On one such pool the kings great ancestors had established their kingdom. However, these pools are a delicate balance. And when the sick mind of the king took the throne the magic became corrupt, and began to slowly eek through the people.
Desperate for his own immortality and more power the king sought out all wise men, until one, hoping to save himself told the king he could live forever if he devoured the heart of a dragon. Knowing well of the dragon in the west who continually thwarted him the king sent out for the strongest knights and men
“The Man who brings me the heart of the dragon, will Become My true Heir, This kingdom will be his, Riches beyond his dreams, and all desires met with My most powerful Magic!” This the King declared. No such man had risen to the challenge, and so the cool crisp air of the mountain stayed sweet and untainted.
Sitting there in the cool air, was a woman.
Elegant and tall she would easily cut an imposing figure in a crowd, and not just with her looks, her body bore armor strange to the land, It shined not as metal but as if it was crafted with Moonstone, the many colors shining in the light like an opal, and yet it seemed wickedly strong. She bore no chain lin mesh but instead that same opal like substance lay across her Tunic Layered like scales. Her helmet sat beside her on the ground Three proud black horn protruding from it the center horn the longest curved back like a sickle.
She sat looking out over the land of the corrupt king, eyes dark liquid black startling against the white and her pale skin, Pale hair translucent gold was tied at the base of her neck and fluttered in the playful wind. It could easily be assumed she herself had come to try and claim the bounty on the dragon.